Page 124 of Happily Never After

“How did you get the recipe?” He took another bite and closed his eyes.

“George. He wasn’t super eager to give it to me, but I can be pretty persuasive.”

He reached across the table and pulled her out of her seat and into his lap. “I love you. Thank you.”

She snaked her arms around his neck and kissed him. Was it Luke or the hint of chili powder that warmed her from the inside?

The phone vibrated again. She didn’t need to look at the screen to guess who it was. Could Bradbemore of a cockblock?

She pulled back and glanced at the binder propped next to the coffeemaker. The first of Brad’s six proposal binders. She hadn’t had the heart to throw it away. Some of her best ideas were in that binder. But following Brad down his increasinglyelaborate rabbit hole had almost cost Claire her relationship. It wasn’t worth it.

Creaking upstairs drew both their eyes upward. A jetlagged Mindy and Sawyer hadn’t gotten out of bed yet, but at least their bicoastal lovemaking hadn’t caused them to plummet through the ceiling. It was going to be a long couple of weeks.

“I love you too. And that’s why I’m not going to let this”—she gestured vaguely at the phone, searching for the right words—“overbearing, finnicky dingus come between us.”

Even though he had apologized for them, Luke’s words were still cemented in her heart. Even when she was home, she wasn’t really there. That needed to change. There would be other ways to create her California empire and save the rescue for good. She didn’t need Brad.

“Celebrating your documentary is more important,” she added firmly. She frowned at the binder. Planning this screening would be so much easier if ESA hadn’t burned down her warehouse. Her lights, tablecloths, and faux floral arrangements had all been burned to a crisp.

He nudged her. “I know how hard you worked on this. Even I’m impressed at the scope of things. You could try setting some boundaries. You know, for once.”

She shot him a dirty look.

“Strict business hours except for the day preceding a proposal,” he suggested. “Saying no to bringing an ice cream cone 2,800 miles. A limit to the number of times you can change your mind.”

Silence.

He nudged her. “What about Karen? Doesn’t she deserve the proposal of her dreams? A Claire Hartley original?”

Shit. In her commitment to eschew Brad until the end of time, she had forgotten all about Karen. Kind, level-headed Karen.

“Why are you pushing me to do this?”

Luke gently tugged on one of her curls. “Because I know you’ll regret it if you don’t. I don’t want to be the reason why you don’t follow your dreams.”

Her phone vibrated again. They both looked at it. Brad’s picture lit up the screen. Something deep inside pulled at her.

“Fine,” she said, snatching the phone. “But if you dump me over my work ethic, I’m keeping both dogs.”

She left the kitchen and wandered into the hallway. Her shoulders squared, she answered the phone. “Yes?”

“Thank god. Claire, you gotta help me.” Brad’s voice was urgent.

“With what?” She had never spoken to a client with this tone of voice. She might as well have been speaking to an uninvited snake in her garden.

“The proposal. My receptionist can’t handle it. She quit today.”

Quit planning the proposal or quit her whole-ass job? Apparently Claire wasn’t the only one who had had enough of Brad.

“Hmm. That’s unfortunate,” she said. “That’s why we always recommend hiring a professional, especially with an event of this scale.”

Brad sighed. “What will it take for you to come back?”

Claire glanced at her watch. “A meeting. Two hours from now. Your office.”

“I have a golf?—”

“Two hours from now, or no dice. There are new rules. If you can’t abide by them, I’m not going to take you on as a client.” Her voice shook at the end, but she waited, silent. Her heart galloped.

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