Page 109 of The Duke Who Saved Christmas
Sylvie reached over and pinched her cheek. “Your cheeks have been puffy since the day you were born, my little hamster.”
“I’m going to kill you.”
“Go ahead. Then you’ll have to finish planning your own wedding. After today, you’ll be doing me a favour by giving me eternal rest.”
“I think I’m getting a headache.” Julian rubbed his forehead. “Sylvie, would you like a drink?”
“I would love one. Thank you. You are my favourite person at this table.” She beamed at him as he got up.
“Suck up,” I muttered.
She knocked her foot against mine under the table. “Don’t be jealous just because I’m nice to him.”
Hazel looked between us. “I don’t know if you two should sleep together or never see each other again.”
“I know which one I’d vote for.” I smirked at Sylvie.
“So do I,” she retorted. “And I bet it’s a different vote.”
“Maybe you should compromise and do both,” Hazel muttered, checking her phone.
And to think she’d just told menotto hit it and quit it.
“Maybe you should get an early night, so your face doesn’t get puffy from lack of sleep. The bonus will be you not saying stupid things,” Sylvie ground out.
Hazel waved her hand in response. “You’re only here another two weeks or so. What could go wrong?”
“Sounds like the start of a bad romcom movie,” Sylvie replied. “So, the answer, naturally, is everything.”
“I have to agree with her on that one,” I said.
“Of course, you do. You want to get inside her knickers.” Hazel checked her phone again. “Oh. Shannon is calling again. I’ll be right back.”
Sylvie blinked at her sister’s back before slowly turning to me. “Shannon? The hairdresser?”
“I guess so. She said was on the phone to her hairdresser when you came in.”
“Hmm. I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear any of that. I can’t deal with another crisis right now. I may lose what little sanity I have left if anything else happens.”
“It’s not that bad, is it? You’ve handled everything so far.”
“Yes, but if Shannon has a problem, I’m going to end up playing hairdresser, too. I won’t be able to find another. Doyou know how busy they get right before Christmas?” Sylvie groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I’m never taking another Christmas wedding again.”
“It’s only this stressful because it’s your sister,” I reasoned, gently rubbing her upper back.
“You’re right. If she ever gets married again, I’m not planning it for her.”
“I’m offended you think she’ll have a second wedding,” Julian said, putting a glass of gin in front of Sylvie.
She instantly looked up. “If that’s non-alcoholic, I’m suing you for unfair working conditions.”
“No, you aren’t,” he replied blithely. “And I’m not that stupid.”
“You’re right, I’m not, but the threat makes me feel better.” She pulled the straw towards her mouth and sipped. “If Hazel only has one wedding, it’s because you’re actually a saint sent from God to save my withered soul.”
“Bloody hell,” I muttered. “What happened between you two today?”
Sylvie’s dark gaze hit mine. “Do. Not. Go. There. Unless you want to die.”
