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“I have no doubt that you will agree with me that the opening of this hotel marks a new chapter in the life of this growing city where progress is met with progress. Pasadena is alive, a land of prosperity, but we cannot rest on our laurels. Instead, we must look to the future, which is why, in May, we break ground on the San Gabriel Mountain Lodge, a first-class retreat of luxury and relaxation for weary travelers who wish to take in the restorative mountain air.

“This afternoon, I invite you to explore this new jewel of a hotel, and experience for yourself the luxury of the Colorado Grand. And I look forward to welcoming all of you tonight at our opening ball planned so carefully by my darling wife, Adele,” said Guy, gesturing toward her in the crowd.

Adele blinked, a little taken aback to hear her name.

Mrs. Barnes leaned in and whispered, “It is good to see a little credit given to the woman working tirelessly behind the scenes,” just as Adele recovered her composure enough to give a little laugh and a wave to accept the applause around her.

“I asked him not to mention me,” she whispered to her friend. “The last thing I wish is to find myself in some newspaper column.”

“Ah, yes. What did you tell me once? ‘A lady should only appear in the papers three times: upon her birth, upon her marriage, and upon her death?’ ” Mrs. Barnes teased.

“It’s an entirely sensible approach to attention,” she said.

“And not at all in keeping with how we do things here, I will remind you,” said Mrs. Barnes, who just the previous week had posed for a photograph to accompany an article about an exhibition of plein air painters she had sponsored.

When Guy finished his speech, the crowd broke into applause. Adele looked around her and noted the smiles and nods.

To her left, she felt Margot lean in to whisper, “It looks as though Guy has a new admirer.”

Margot nodded past Adele’s shoulder. When Adele turned, her gaze fell on Miss Barnes, who stood rapt, staring at Guy with wide, awed eyes.

“Perhaps it isn’t such a bad thing to have married a Pasadenan after all,” Adele murmured.

Guy shouldered his way through the crowd, shaking hands and clapping backs until he reached them. “Mrs. Barnes, how good of you to come out.”

“Congratulations, Mr. Whitley,” she said.

“Do you have any regrets about not investing in my little venture?” asked Guy.

“You know how I feel about mixing business and friendship,” said Mrs. Barnes. “This is my daughter, Elizabeth.”

“I enjoyed your speech very much, sir,” said Miss Barnes with a fierce blush.

“Well, I think that shows you have a great deal of good sense, Miss Barnes. Perhaps you will one day help me convince your mother to go in with me,” said Guy with a laugh.

“Guy,” said Adele, pulling her husband’s attention away to prevent the girl from stumbling into a youthful embarrassment over Adele’s handsome husband, “everyone is saying the hotel is a triumph.”

“Indeed,” said James.

“Well, you can’t judge for yourselves without going inside and seeing it,” said Guy. “Come on. I’ll give you the nickel tour.”

Adele took her husband’s arm and fell into step next to him as he led their little party to the wide double doors at the front of the hotel.

“What did you think of the speech?” asked Guy in a low voice.

“I thought you sounded very distinguished,” she said, knowing that was what he would want to hear.

“You don’t think that ‘this growing city where progress is met with progress’ sounded strange?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Not at all. The refrain emphasized your point.”

“That bastard Post was trying to throw me off my stride.”

She didn’t actually think Mr. Post had been doing anything of the sort, so instead of agreeing she said, “I thought you handled the interruption beautifully, my dear.”

“Did you?” he asked, uncertainty in his eyes.

“I did,” she said firmly. “And remember to ask yourself, what has Mr. Post done in the past decade that is anything like the Colorado Grand Hotel? Nothing.”