Page 55 of Perfect (mis)Match

“It’s R&D,” he said slowly. “Calling me on a Saturday morning.”

“Does that mean good news or bad news?”

His mouth went tight. “Let’s find out.”

Vincent answered the phone, and I hugged my knees to my chest, watching his face as he spoke to whoever had called. A tense, creased forehead. Listening intently.

Then, his face shifted into the most gleeful smile I’d ever seen.

“Dwayne, are youserious?”

He listened again as his smile got even wider.

“I knew you could do it! Hell yeah!” He punched the air. “Which method? Hot enfleurage? I would’ve sworn heliotrope was too delicate for it.Fuckyeah. You guys are rockstars!”

Vincent started pacing as he listened to the details of the victory.

“Can’t even tell you how excited I am. Thanks for making it happen, D.,” he said, then hung up and stared out at the horizon.

“You did it,” I cheered. “Congrats!”

“Theydid it,” he said as he shifted his focus back to me. “All I did was hire a great team and push them. This is their victory.”

I thought back to theNew York Timesprofile about Vincent. He’d been open about wanting to distill the flower but just as clear about the fact that it was his team doing the work under his guidance. It was good to see proof positive that the man could share a victory.

“Our day is off to a phenomenal start,” Vincent said. “We should celebrate.”

“Oh?” I tipped my head at him. “What were you thinking?”

“Maybe a little shopping…a nice lunch…we could go to a Broadway matinee…”

“Any other ideas?” I asked as I hitched up the t-shirt I was wearing and tied it in a knot so my belly was exposed. I leaned back and stretched my arms dramatically, which caused the shirt to rise higher and show off the bottoms of my breasts.

“Umm…” he stared at me, suddenly dumbfounded as I trailed my finger through the Nutella on my plate then popped it in my mouth.

I held his gaze as I dragged my finger out slowly, then pushed it back in.

Vincent jumped out of his chair so forcefully it fell over, and he grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder. I screamed with laughter as he smacked my ass. He grabbed something as we walked by the kitchen.

“What’s that?” I asked, still laughing.

“Nutella,” he answered in a hoarse voice. “I’m going to lick it off your entire body.”

And honestly, that was the only celebration I needed.

16

VINCENT

Ofcourseeverything was blowing up the day before Paul and Chloe’s wedding.

It was an all-hands-on-deck scenario at the Manhattan Building, Chloe’s beautiful but challenging venue. The à la carte aspect of the exposed brick, boho chic building was tough enough, forcing them to find vendors willing to bring every single spoon and napkin to the top floor, but the fact that the service elevator had gone out was a new layer of challenge.

And Chloe was falling apart.

The entire wedding party assembled at the building to try to help Avengers-style since building management was MIA, and their wedding planner was off with another client for the day. I could see the panic in Chloe’s eyes, the way her hands kept clenching and unclenching as though she was trying to physically keep herself from crumbling to pieces. Obviously, throwing money at the problem was my go-to solution, but elevator repair on such an old building required an expert, and they were hard to comeby these days. Even with all our connections, we had to wait for a service call without any sort of clear timeline.

“Why did I pick this place? It’s my fault, everything’s falling apart…” Chloe’s voice cracked, her eyes wide as she looked around. “Tomorrow is going to be a disaster! We should just…just postpone the whole thing.”

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