Page 15 of Champagne Fizz

I shrug helplessly. “To put it politely.”

“Did you learn all these negotiation skills from Sue Blade?”

“You’re mocking me, now.”

“No, I’m just—” He crosses his arms and bites back a smile “Okay, maybe I am, just a little.”

“I love Sue Blade.”

“I realize that.”

I throw my hands on my hips. “She’s not an internet hack.”

“That has yet to be proven.”

“Look, just becauseI’mnot a stunning example of entrepreneurial brilliance, doesn’t

mean that Sue Blade isn’t—”

Simon uncrosses his arms and takes my hand in his. The contact of his skin stops me mid-sentence, and rather than launching into my tirade, my whole body decides to visibly shiver at the brush of his hand.

Which he totally notices.

“I’m available for a drink at eight,” Simon says, his thumb softly stroking my palm.

Sweet macaroni! Body, you need to knock it off.

“G-good,” I eek out, trying to ignore my insides that are hoping he might grip my wrist a little tighter and do something naughty. “Great.”

I glance around the room in search of a broken air conditioner I can blame my twenty-five-year-old’s premature hot flashes on.

“Why don’t you fill out the rest of this contract with Ned and Olivia,” Simon says, still holding my wrist, still running his thumb against the underside of my skin.

That’s hot.

And unprofessional.

And one-hundred percent something I don’t want him to stop doing.

“When you’re done,” he continues, “you can bring the contract back to me.”

“Y-you want to meet here?” My eyes flit back to where the dining room is. “Flambé? For a drink?”

This placeknownas the restaurant you take your date to if you want to …

I swallow hard.

“I’m not sure you can handle Flambé!” Simon teases.

“Of course, I can handle Flambé,” I shoot back, yanking my hand away from his touch. “I mean, I’m going to throw a wedding here so …”

“That’s not the same as having a date here.”

“I didn’t say this was a date,” I correct. My neck flames with the thought of the two of us alone in one of those velvet booths, drinking those way-too-sexy flaming drinks as his fingers—

“Right, just a drink.” Simon’s lip hitches.

“I would prefer to meet somewhere—”

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