Page 125 of Champagne Fizz

“Desmond and Esme are staying at the Atlantis, too,” Arie continues. “And I work there. We’re all already headed in that direction. I’m sure you have plenty of wedding errands to run.”

I do! Fuzz. I remember that I was headed to pick up Olivia’s dress before this fiasco, and I was running late even then. But there’s no way I’m letting Arie take Mrs. Voss back to the Atlantis. Prickly as Mrs. Voss is, I’m not subjecting her to being caged with a dragon.

“It’s not a problem,” I insist.

“No,” Mrs. Voss cuts in, “just being on time is.”

I laugh awkwardly and let that one roll off my shoulder. I lug Mrs. Voss’s bag to my trunk and wonder if Arie and Mrs. Voss are cut from the same cloth. I don’t want to go all Dr. Freud here, but maybe Connor has some unconscious mommy issues he’s working out with his redheaded girlfriend.

“The drive will give Mrs. Voss and I some quality time to go over the schedule for the wedding,” I press, turning to get the rest of the bags and noticing Desmond’s already filling my trunk with the remainder of them. “Thank you,” I say sheepishly, realizing I’ve just turned a movie star into a valet. “You didn’t have to—”

Only Desmond winks and gives me a knowing nod toward Arie like he’s well aware of how ruthless she can be.

“Katarina,” Desmond says, turning to address Mrs. Voss by first name. “It’s been an absolute pleasure.” He gives her a kiss on the cheek and I swear the woman swoons.

“I’m glad there are still gentlemen in this world,” Mrs. Voss says, cutting her eyes to Arie with an undertone that says she isn’t impressed with how Arie’s corrupted her son and made him lose his gentleman-worthy badge of honor. “Too bad Connor didn’t meet you.” Mrs. Voss points at Esme in a clear insult to her twin. “You obviously know how to keep things dignified.”

“Oh, I—” Esme trips over her words, totally thrown off by Mrs. Voss’s power play. “I wouldn’t say—I mean Arie’s a lovely—”

“What my twin is trying to say,” Arie interrupts, her eyes burning darkly, “is that Connor likes eating my pussy too much to give Esme a second glance. Plus, if Connor ate Esme’s pussy, I’m pretty sure Desmond here would knock his teeth out and show you just how much he’s not a gentleman.”

Arie smiles smugly like she has no problem with Mrs. Voss throwing stones, because she’s happy to wage war all weekend long. Dang it! An Arie-Voss showdown is the last thing I need!

“Okay, time to go!” I chirp, daring life and limb by putting myself between Arie and Mrs. Voss as I urge Connor’s mother toward the open door of my car. “Why don’t we take those separate vehicles and keep this as friendly as we can, yes?”

“Friendly?” Arie barks. “Like you stringing Simon along with your—”

“We had a conversation about professionalism earlier today, Ms. Noel!” I snap, getting up in Arie’s face. She doesn’t budge, crossing her arms and looking down at me smugly. I’m shorter than her, especially when Arie’s wearing her 4-inch power-heels, but I’m not backing down.

“Funny what you callprofessional,” Arie says, her eyes narrowing to mean the private time I’ve spent with her business partner. “You think you can call all the shots, but it’s my restaurant Canary Pom-Pom, and I’m going to do what I want.”

My heart ratchets in fear, not sure what she means. My brain starts whirring with possibilities: locking me out, changing the menu, not letting me create the design I’ve spent hours prepping.

“Bye bye, Mrs. Voss,” Arie says with a saccharine-fake tone, wiggling her fingers at Connor’s mom like she’s a child being dropped off at kindergarten. “Thank you for giving birth to a sex-god who I let ream my pussy every night until I’m exhausted.”

“Arie!” Esme scolds.

“What?” Arie snaps back. “Connor is really good in bed. His momma should be proud.”

“This is not the time!” Esme frowns.

Mrs. Voss storms up to my car and gives me a piercing scowl. “Be on time in the future,” she snaps, “and spare me the Freak Show.” She climbs into the passenger seat and slams the door.

Arie’s got a smile on her face that says,That went brilliantly!while both Esme and Desmond look at me with pity.

The week before a wedding is supposed to be crazy, so buckle up, Kendall, you chose this profession. It’s your job to keep Ned and Olivia away from the erupting volcano, and boy is it spewing fire in every direction.

34

SIMON

After updating the staffing schedule, emailing everyone the wedding timeline, and organizing everything, I finally sit down and pull up the franchising perspective I created. It’s a solid plan. We start with a second location in a sexy high-end city like Los Angeles or Vegas, prove the product can be duplicated, then branch out to additional cities.

The catch is Arie. It’s always Arie.

Our whole business model was created based on her image and sass. In fact, our investors forced us to hire Connor as the male equivalent to make sure both our male and female clients were enjoying the crass sex appeal. Recipes and cocktails can be recreated, but can the energy and vibe that Arie brings to the restaurant? Will making a second location simply dilute the brand? One comes to Flambé for a one-of-a-kind experience—including the potty-mouthed sinner that is its head chef.

I just don’t know how much more of ArieIcan take. Especially when it comes to my personal life. She’s supposed to be my best friend, but maybe we’ve grown in different directions. Maybe I’ve allowed her too much slack, and she no longer respects me like a real friend should. She’ll claim she’s loyal till she’s red in the face, but she’s only loyal when it’s her way. There doesn’t seem to be room for someone else’s energy, especially when that energy is sweet and innocent like Kendall’s.

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