Page 156 of Champagne Fizz

“The reception has been really wonderful,” I continue, smoothing out the front of my black dress and eyeing the gold fork Arie’s gripping like she might go ninja on me. “The food, the drinks, the presentation. The little fondant of Ned and Olivia in handcuffs on top of the cake was a great detail. Everything has been incredible. More than incredible! It’s been unlike anything I’ve seen before.”

Arie smirks and crosses her arms over her chest, knocking off her sister’s hand. “You expected less?” she states, her lips curling into a frown.

“I expected—” But I don’t take that bait. We both know what I expected from Arie this evening, and I’m still not convinced she won’t go raging into the dining room throwing forks and breathing fire. “I’ve never eaten at Flambé before.”

“Obviously.”

Esme nudges her sister and whispers, “Be nice.”

The comment earns Esme a death glare as if she wasn’t Arie’s blood and Arie would be happy to decapitate her sister for that suggestion. I swallow hard. Arie finds fire for everyone. Only, Esme takes it in stride, rolling her eyes like she’s immune to her twin’s withering glower. Maybe that’s a side effect of growing up together.

“I was just trying to say,” I press on, “that you made this a very special night for Olivia and Ned.”

“Obviously,” Arie repeats, and I realize this whole gesture is foolish. Arie doesn’t care if I’m impressed with what she’s created. She doesn’t care that I’m trying to hand her a metaphorical olive branch and play peacemaker. She was never looking for my approval, and she could care less for my praise. This was alwaysherrestaurant,herculinary kingdom, withherminions and mayhem. Heck, she’s probably only been half-way palatable because Simon’s threatened to leave.

“Obviously,” I echo in a nasty tone, unable to mask my aggravation.

“Arie,” Esme warns. It’s like we’re children on the playground and I’ve thrown mud, and now Esme has to play good cop to keep her twin from turning into an angry bee swarm.

“Don’tArieme,” she snips. “You came in here with your lecture about Simon, too. And clearly he’s chosen his alliances.” Arie pierces me with an icy scowl, and something inside me snaps.

“Actually, yes,” I say loudly, walking straight up to her and not backing down. “He has chosen his alliances. Simon and I aretogether.”

Arie finches, showing just how much she hates that idea.

“Yup, we are,” I confirm, my temperature spiking. “As much as you’d love to be rid of me after tonight’s wedding, that’s not happening! Simon and I—”

“Whatever,” Arie interrupts with a snort. “He’ll get sick of you.”

Now it’s my turn to flinch, and Arie smirks at how perfectly that arrow hit.

“No,” I assert, not letting her shut me down. “He’s sick ofyou.”

Arie snags a plate, and for a second I think she’s going to chuck it at me, but then she starts flicking sloppy crumbs into the sink angrily. “I’ve been around a lot longer than you have, sweetheart.”

“And yet he still wants to leave,” I remind her. “Do you think leaving Flambé was an empty threat? Because it’s not.” Arie’s grip tightens on the fork, and the horrid sound of metal scraping against metal echoes through the room. “And that has nothing to do with his relationship with me. Simon wants to leave because of his relationship withyou!”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Arie scoffs, rolling her eyes.

“Arie,” Esme jumps in, her voice pleading for Arie to listen. “Simon’s pissed at you.”

“And he’ll get over it,” Arie snaps back, wielding the fork on her sister, “like he always does.”

“I don’t know,” Esme disagrees, snagging the fork and plate and unarming her sister. “He seems pretty serious about opening a second location in California. He was telling me all about the possibility of an LA location and moving to the mainland to run it.”

“Moving to Los Angeles?” I blurt out, surprised. Is Simon considering moving to California? Even though he just asked me to be his girlfriend?

Arie takes one look at me and sneers happily.

“Look at that,” Arie mocks. “Simon doesn’t tell you everything he’s up to.” She latches onto the idea and swoops in like a hawk. “You’re moving to LA with him, right? That was all part of yourtogethernessplan, wasn’t it?”

Esme gives me a look of pity, her eyes apologizing for saying more than she should’ve.

My gut twists like I’ve been punched. It hurts to think Simon and I were just intimate and he’s thinking about leaving.

“Oh man,” Arie gloats, batting her eyelashes at me. “He didn’t tell you any of this, did he?”

He didn’t.

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