Page 10 of Champagne Fizz

“Doesn’t matter,” Arie continues. “If it’s booked, I’ll boot whoever’s on there to the curb.”

“Give me a second—” I say, scrolling through my calendar app.

“I don’t care if the Queen of England is on our calendar,” Arie declares. “Olivia and Ned are family.”

“I told you she was amazing,” Olivia gushes, mouthing the words thank you to Arie for her generosity.

“There isn’t a conflict,” I confirm, holding up my phone to show the empty spot on the calendar. “The 28th is free.”

“See,” Arie gestures. “Meant to be.” Arie gestures through the window to the deck that overlooks the bay. “Ceremony and cocktail hour will be out on the patio. And the reception will be here in the dining room.” She motions to our surroundings. “Done. Planned.”

Arie picks up one of the green champagne glasses, blows out the flames and leans back in her chair to take a huge gulp as if to say this meeting is over.

“Let’s hold on a second,” Kendall interjects, her tone pinching as Arie throws back the entire alcoholic drink at two in the afternoon. “This is obviously a promising option—”

“Not promising,” Arie interrupts, banging the empty champagne glass on the table. “Promised. Done. You want a fifteen-tier cake? Not a problem. You want shrimp, or steak, or vegan-exotic-mushrooms. Done. You tell me what you want Olivia,” Arie points at her hostess. “And it’s happening.”

“Wait,” Kendall’s face is draining of color. “Are you also making the cake?”

“Of course, I am!” Arie shakes her head because Kendall needs to get with the program. “Weddings with Hart, have you ever been to Flambé?”

“You can call me Kendall,” she says in response to Arie’s condescension, but Arie rolls her eyes and ignores it.

“Have you eaten my desserts? My food?” Arie motions to the plate in front of them. “I get that you might be used to booking Holy Cannoli’s Cake Corner, or whatever rubbish you normally work with, but Olivia’s wedding is going to be top notch. Got that? This isn’t the kind of event where you buy a few streamers from Party City and call it an evening.”

“I never said it was,” Kendall hisses through her teeth, rightfully frustrated with Arie.

“Well, isn’t your job to give the bride what she wants?” Arie snaps, and suddenly I can see why Kendall doesn’t want to use Flambé for the wedding.

It’s Arie.

Arie has a reputation for being a hot-headed, controlling bitch who will micro-manage every last detail of what happens in her restaurant. Which leaves Kendall very little room to design or create anything. In fact, it pretty much begs Kendall to become Arie’s minion.

“I am helping to give the bride what she wants,” Kendall asserts, rolling her shoulders back and turning to Olivia. “I thought you wanted a beach wedding: bare feet in the sand, sunset, luminaries, the smell of the ocean.”

“We have all of that except for the sand,” Arie says, without letting Olivia speak. “Though I suppose you could do photos on the beach in front of the resort.”

Kendall looks like she’s about to explode.

“Arie,” I jump in, pushing back my seat and standing up. “Can I speak to you in the kitchen.” My co-partner’s eyes cut to me something fowl. “You too, Conner,” I continue, pointing to him and motioning to the back hall. “In fact, why don’t we let these guys try the hors d’oeuvres and discuss amongst themselves for a minute. And maybe after they’ve had some time to decide what they want, we can come back and see what they’re thinking.”

Arie looks like she’s about to slice me open like a fish and pluck out my ribs.

“I think—” Arie starts, but I cut her off.

“Up, out of your seat,” I say sharply. “Connor?”

I motion to him and he obliges, standing up and putting a hand on Arie’s shoulder to calm her. Arie’s furious. She hates that I’m shutting her down in front of everyone, but this is going to turn into a blood bath if I don’t get Arie out of the room.

Yes, I wanted to embarrass Kendall—a little—for what she said earlier. But I don’t want her to be completely obliterated by Arie when my business partner decides to dig her heels in and turn full dragon.

I look back at Kendall with a soft smile. “Please, try all the appetizers,” I say. “Then, Olivia can walk you through the menu: entrees, sides, whatever you’re interested in. If you need to taste-test anything, have Olivia come in the back and request it. In fact, Olivia can also walk you through the premises—the patio, the dining room, etcetera. That way the bride and groom can decide what they want.”

Kendall smiles like I’m saving her life. “Thank you,” she says genuinely. “That would be lovely.”

Her eyes flick to Arie, who’s thankfully already being escorted to the back room by Connor. Then, to my surprise, Kendall picks up one of the flaming green cocktails and raises it to me. She blows out the flame and tastes it.

“Oh damn,” Kendall nearly spits out her drink, grabbing a napkin and raising it to those plush lips. Only, that’s not a ‘damn’ of disgust.

---