Page 66 of Karma's Kiss

After lunch, we have to switch gears though. Queenie and I form an assembly line putting together Michael and Amber’s welcome bags. I’ve seen my fair share of wedding swag while working at Evermore Events, but the items they’ve selected are excellent. It’s clear Michael and Amber really want to spoil their guests. We layer in an assortment of luxury items everyone will love: La Mer night cream, small bottles of Veuve Clicquot, gourmet nuts and popcorn, and organic honey from Gwyneth Paltrow’s bees. (Who knew Gwyneth Paltrow evenhadbees?)

No wonder our credit card is maxed out.Marge should have invoiced Amber and Michael for these items weeks ago when they were originally ordered. While I stew, Marge is really on one about the amount of meat Schlotzsky’s put on her sandwich at lunch.

“I’m telling you, they skimped. They’re doing it with everything these days! I swear this can of Coke is smaller than the one I bought last week.”

“Shrinkflation, they call it.” Queenie nods.

“Does this Coke look small to you, Madison?”

She holds it up beside her head as if that’s a good metric for measurement. It looks like a standard-issue can of Coke, but I’m not about to go against Marge. “Tiny.”

“See?!” She shakes her head. “I’m calling them. Do you guys know the number?”

“ForCoke?”I sound incredulous. I want to shout,We have bigger problems!

Marge nods, already reaching for the phone on her desk. “Someone’s gonna hear what I have to say.”

Between the welcome bags and Marge’s hunt to contact a higher-up at the Coca-Cola Company, the afternoon flies. Marge, to her credit, manages to find the number for the vice president of distribution, but she’s forced to leave a message with his secretary’s secretary. “You just let him know Marge Buchanan called and I’d like to give him a piece of my mind.”

“Got plans for the evening?” Queenie asks when it’s quitting time.

I’m still glued to my desk. I can’t leave until I get these invoices done. I’m about to tell Queenie this but when I look up, I see she’s eyeing my purse and the ovulation tests gently peeking out. I shove them back in and shake my head.

“I’ll be here.”

She purses her lips but otherwise keeps her opinions to herself.

It serves a dual purpose to stay late at the Wildflower Weddings offices. I can chip away at my mountain of tasks and also ensure I’m safe if Sawyer decides to show up on Queenie’s doorstep. After all, he brought the coffee and pastries this morning and he’s called me a few times today. It’s not out of the question that he’d try to see me again tonight, but it’s another day before we bump into each other organically.

I’m walking out of Golden Harvest the next morning, on the phone with Kendra—complaining to her about the current state of my mom’s business—when I see his truck pull up into the parking spot out in front of the coffee shop. My nerves seem close to bursting out of me.

“Kendra…I gotta go.”

I’ve already stopped dead on the sidewalk, but now I hang up and let the phone slide from my ear as Sawyer steps out of his vehicle. Handsome, put together,the man of my dreams. When he spots me, he stills for only a second before he slams his cardoor. His warm gaze slides down me, like he’s checking to see if I’m all right before he walks over.

“So you’re alive,” he notes casually. “Wasn’t sure since you didn’t return any of my calls.”

I cringe. “Yesterday was hectic…”

It’s not even a lie.

He nods and looks off, clearly annoyed with me.

“You doing okay?” I ask lightly.

His expression darkens. Somehow, I’ve offended him with the question.

“We should talk,” he states plainly.

Oh hell. Here we go.

I swallow past the nerves tightening my throat. “I agree. Yeah. Tonight?”

“Can’t. I’m leaving town this afternoon for a buddy’s bachelor party. Won’t be back until late Sunday.”

“That’s okay!” I almost sound too happy about the fact that he’s leaving town and giving me a whole weekend to ruminate on my decision going forward, so I tone it down as I continue, “Why don’t I reach out next week?”

His expression displays his frustration, but he doesn’t say anything. It’s so hard to read him. Is he upset I’m not willing to push more? Wishing he could be done with me altogether?

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