Page 68 of VOGUEish

Chandler ran a hand down the side of his face. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. When you get married, it should be because you’re madly in love with the guy. No other reason is legit.”

She narrowed her eyes. “It most certainly is not stupid. Earth to Chandler—sometimes the one you love never comes along, and so you choose the next best option so you don’t have to grow old alone.”

Was he doomed to grow old alone? “Do you have, like, a deadline or something on when this would happen?”

“Most likely once you and I are done having a fling.”

He wanted to fling her on her back right now and kiss her senseless. “A fling?”

“I’ve given it a lot of a thought. Like a lot lot. And that’s the best I can offer. I’m saving my heart for a man who loves me too much to pawn me off on his friend.”

“What the hell does that mean? You said I got in the way of your work goals.”

“And you said I’m broken.” She poked him in the chest.

He heaved out a sigh. This was the most screwed up mess he’d ever seen. “I said once upon a time you were.”

“But you implied I’m too fragile for the likes of you.”

This conversation had gotten out of hand. If she wanted love, she deserved love. Ryder could give her love. Love scared the shit out of Chandler. For him to try and figure it out with one of Nonna’s projects would be risky as hell. His godmother would have his head on a platter if he hurt Isabella. Hell, he’d have his own head on a platter if he hurt her. “You deserve better than a fling. I bet Ryder didn’t offer you a fling. I bet he said, it’s love or nothing, because that’s what a woman like you deserves. I bet he’s hoping you’ll come back from this trip and tell him you love him.”

She grabbed her phone, texted someone.

His phone vibrated. He pulled it out and read the screen.

I have no secret love for Isabella. You hurt her and I will kick your ass and turn you into a toad.—Ryder.

He grunted. Why in the hell had she gone and sent Ryder a text?

“What?” Isabella asked.

He read her the first line of the text and watched her expression closely for signs of sorrow upon learning Ryder truly wasn’t in love with her.

“See. I told you so.” She grabbed his phone out of his hand and read the rest of the text. Her eyes widened. “Wouldn’t it be grand if we had the power to turn those we don’t like into toads?”

He wasn’t surprised Ryder hadn’t told Isabella he was an actual fairy godfather. The guy had strict rules he had to follow. Chandler was privy to a few. He knew Ryder’s adopted mom, Clarabelle Peabody, was a real fairy godmother, and she’d turned Ryder and his brothers into fairy godfathers. Clarabelle had been the one who’d talked Nonna into starting the Fairy Godmother Project. According to Clarabelle, there weren’t enough magical fairy godmothers to go around for all the need in the world, so the world needed nonmagical fairy godmothers. The whole thing was very top secret. “It would be, indeed.”

Isabella sat up. “About this just-between-us fling we’re going to have. When shall we start?”

He sat up. “I never promised you that.” He stood and held out his hand.

She made a face. “Then a second one-night stand it will be.”

“We’re here on business.” Could he sound any more like a wuss? He sighed. It couldn’t be helped. At the very least, he wasn’t doing anything with Isabella until after he’d spoken with Ryder and knew what his intentions were toward her. And even then, he might do nothing with Isabella. He was still, after all, the guy who might hurt her. “We’re not here for pleasure.”

She stood and linked her hands in his arm and gave him an irresistible grin. “Says the Bully of Manhattan’s Corporate World.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

“Look at the moon peeking over the top of the palm trees.” Isabella enjoyed the warm breeze on her skin while life whispered happy thoughts in her ears. She, Chandler, and Annie sat in an outside bar area of their hotel. The lead singer of a three-piece band crooned broken-hearted love songs while ocean waves lapped gently in the background.

Tomorrow they’d conduct the business they’d come to do, and then tomorrow night, with a little persuasion on her part, she and Chandler could, for starters, continue what they’d started what seemed like eons ago. It would be the best Valentine’s Day ever.

“It’s beautiful.” Annie sounded wistful. She’d spent the afternoon taking a nap but still looked tired—or maybe she looked like she’d been crying. Again.

Isabella wished she knew what was bothering her.

“Did everyone enjoy their dinner?” Chandler asked.

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