Page 16 of Champagne Kisses
“Please lead the way,Mr. Park.” It might be petty, but if being formal annoys this jerk, I willnevercall him "Adam". The line of his mouth gets even tighter. Without a word, he picks up the other boxes like they weigh nothing and takes off at a brisk pace, leaving me to awkwardly run-walk behind him to keep up.
I follow him up the stairs, through double doors, and into what seems like a maze of hallways. Everyone we pass is busy, placing flower arrangements, reviewing place settings, lighting candles. From the looks of it, there are at least three other events happening here tonight. It feels like a carefully choreographed ballet and reminds me why I love doing what I do, regardless of the few difficult clients.
We finally reach the Beach House Grill. The color palette is white, pink, and gold with pops of coral. The flowers and chandeliers complete the look that screams “old money”.At least theflutes will fit in here. I, on the other hand, should head back to my car as soon as possible.
“This place is so beautiful," I whisper, awe clear in my voice. I do a 360 to take it all in, the box still in my hand. "So where should we put these boxes?”
Adam opens his mouth to answer but suddenly a blonde, willowy woman stomps over and steps in between us. She stands a bit too close and levels me with an icy glare.
“Finally! I'm assuming you're here with the champagne flutes?" I nod, too overwhelmed at the hostility coming off this woman in hot waves. "Thank goodness! I was two minutes from talking to the venue manager about a potential Plan B if you didn't show.” Her intense gaze doesn't waver as she gestures towards a table to her right.
“Just put them there and Adam and I will worry about setting them up.” With a flip of her hair and a quick pivot towards the restaurant staff, I consider myself dismissed. This is why Iprefer to ship. Safe in my apartment, I can pretend wannabe bridezillas like this don't exist.
I unload the boxes as fast as I can and turn back to Adam who seems to still be watching me. What is this guy’s problem? Time to put on a fake smile and get the hell out of dodge.
“Thank you for being so accommodating,Mr. Park, and my apologies again for the delay. Delays aren’t the norm, and I hope you consider ‘It’s Personal’ for your future personalization needs.” While my words say "Ms. Professional", my eyes are saying "Fuck you and your fancy party". I head back to my car without waiting for an answer, though I can feel him watching my back. I won’t hold my breath for a five-star review.
Chapter seven
Adam
Four hours later and the party’s finally winding down. The champagne flutes were a hit, as were the mussels marinara and tiramisu courtesy of Bryan's dad. After dinner, both sets of parents kept the speeches short to get right to the open bar and DJ, and the guests of honor made googly eyes at each other the whole night. Even I have to admit it was a good party, though I'm not sure it was worth $25,000.
I pull off my already loose tie and shove it in the pocket of the suit jacket hanging on the back of my chair. I hate wearing a suit, even if it is linen. Jessi loved Emily's suggestion for the guests to dress in the same colors as the party, so I'd had to buy this stupid suit from Banana Republic at the last minute.
Speaking of Emily, I see her making her way towards me and try to down the last of my bourbon before she can corner me. To say she’s been coming on strong this evening would bean understatement. She almost seems a little…off. I pound the empty glass down on bar and rise to leave just seconds too late.
“Adam! Don’t tell me you’re heading out so soon?” She tries to pull off a sexy pout, but the effect is ruined by her slight slurring from too much champagne. She drapes her hand on my shoulder and toys with the hair on the back of my neck. I look around nervously, because she isn't usually so public with her advances.
“Uh, yeah,” I say, grabbing my jacket and putting it on to force her to move her hand. “It’s been a long day. I’m totally beat.” From how much she's swaying, Emily should probably head back to her hotel room too. I haven't seen her this plastered since…well never.
"Are you gonna be OK, Emily? I think you've had too much to drink." She rolls her eyes before suddenly pounding a fist on the bar. A few people nearby hurry back to the dance floor to avoid the scene unfolding and I start to worry whether I'll ever get back to my room. The bartender sends me a look of sympathy before making himself busy on the other side of the bar.
"I can'tbelievethat woman from earlier!"
"What woman?" I whisper, willing her to lower her voice as well.
"The woman with the champagne flutes. From 'It's Personal'?" I knew she was talking about Maya before I even asked. For some reason, Emily has been extra wound up since they ran into one another. Sure, she'd cut it close, but Maya hadn't actuallybeenlate. Maybe Emily needed a vacation if she wasthaton edge about something so minor.
She's eyeing me now, like everything I'm thinking is written all over my face. Hell, maybe it is. It's been a long night.
"You think I'm overreacting, don't you?" I shrug one shoulder.
"Experience has taught me never to say that to a woman." Emily practically sneers at me.
"Always so smooth. Don't think I didn't see you checking her out, Mr. Smooth." I step back, removing her hand from where it's been resting on my forearm. She sways a bit more.
"Is that your type? Instead of elegant, polished, and successful,"like me, she silently finishes, "you want some fat craft lady who can barely meet her own deadlines?"
“Emily, I don't know what's gotten into you, but it's not a good look. The flutes were a hit and the party was a success. I'm heading to bed, and you might want to call it a night too. Sleep off whatever it is that's going on with you."
Emily's eyes go glassy with hurt and embarrassment before she quickly feigns indifference and heads back onto the dance floor with a flip of her hair. I head towards the elevator, now painfully aware that a more direct conversation with Emily is in order.
I sink down into the plush sofa in front of the fireplace. The suite is beyond luxurious, with a 60" flatscreen, a window seat overlooking the water, and 1000 thread count sheets on the king size bed. Away from the noise of the party, I finally have the quiet and headspace to think about the woman who caught my attention earlier: Maya.
Who knew someone that cute was on the other end of the computer this whole time? She showed up with a killer smile, a plump little ass, and big brown eyes like a deer, or a Disney princess. Her hair was in one of those messy buns girls love, but I could tell hers was long, maybe all the way down her back. Despite the gray cardigan that did nothing for her hourglass figure, I could see she was also hiding a great pair of tits. Mmmmm. A model would fall over with breasts like that.
I start getting a hard-on just thinking about her and lazily rub myself through my pants. She was voluptuous, but it was her eyes that hit me square in the chest, even across the parking lot. I knew it was her when she pulled up, looking like a lost lamb.I'll be your big, bad, wolf any day, baby!
