Page 108 of The Duke Who Saved Christmas
“Does that explain the Cleopatra thing?” Hazel asked.
“Not really. But if you see her bossing me around like a slave, it’ll explain that.”
Julian laughed. “Well, now I know what I want as a wedding gift. To see Sylvie bossing you around.”
Hazel shook her head and stuffed her hand in her bag. “It’s my hairdresser. I have to get this.” She pulled her coat on as she headed outside, ramming the phone between her head and her shoulder.
“Why does Sylvie get to boss you around?” Julian asked the second his almost-wife was out of sight.
“A badly placed bet, like I said. In my defense, I’d won all the rounds of Connect-4 prior to that one, so my confidence wasn’t because I was a bit drunk or anything.”
He stared at me. “Wait. Are you telling me you two got stuck in the snow, hightailed it to your place, got a bit drunk, and played Connect-4?”
“I didn’t think Monopoly was wise with Sylvie’s temper. Nor Jenga, given the sharp edges of those blocks.”
“You, a single man, and Sylvie, a single woman—who you quite obviously have a crush on—got drunk together and nothing happened?”
“Julian, you sound like a sixteen-year-old virgin.”
“I’m starting to think you’re a thirty-year-old one.”
“Who’s a thirty-year-old virgin?” Sylvie asked, unwinding her scarf from her neck as she walked up behind Julian.
He looked over his shoulder. “Thomas is.”
“Doesn’t surprise me in the least,” she said blithely, dropping onto the empty chair next to me. “Is that Hazel’s drink?”
“Yeah, why?”
She reached over, grabbed the glass, and downed the half-empty glass in one go. “Thanks.”
“The meeting went well, then,” I said dryly.
She hit me with a dark look. “I’m one email away from cancelling her contract. I don’t care how much she’s paying me.She’s changed the venue three times already. I’ve spent the last hour in a four-way Zoom call with her father and her future-mother-in-law trying to reason with her not to change it again.”
“Why would you change your wedding venue that many times?”
“She’s got so many screws loose that her head is about to roll off her neck,” she snapped. “The only thing keeping it attached is spite, I’m sure of it.”
“Should you be bitching about your clients like that?”
“Would you like me to bitch about you, too, slave?” She shot me a look before waving her hand. “It’s fine as long as I don’t mention her name.”
Was that how it worked?
Sure. Whatever made her feel better.
“I see the foreplay has started,” Hazel said, sitting back down. “Where’s my drink?”
Sylvie eyed her for a moment before speaking. “I finished it. Sorry.”
“In one,” Julian added brightly.
“Oh. There was no alcohol in that.” Hazel looked at Sylvie.
“Why would you get a gin and lemonade with no alcohol in it? What’s wrong with you?”
Hazel touched her fingers to her face. “I’m getting married in a week. I’m not drinking until then. I don’t want my face to be puffy.”
