Page 19 of Champagne Fizz

“I’ve read a romance novel before,” Arie snips, trying to point out that such a word is not beyond her breadth of knowledge.

“I thought your twin sister, Esme, was the romance novel addict,” I chide.

“I can be romantic,” Arie defends, “just not in the traditional roses and love poems sense.”

“Ah …” I nod. “Just the wanton desire sense?” Arie shrugs. “And to answer your original question, I’m a professional.” I zip the cash wallet after distributing the bills into the drawer. “I don’t need to fuzz the wedding planner.”

“Uh, except, I know you.” Arie shakes her head like I’m an oblivious buffoon.

“Meaning?”

“You have a type.”

“Yellow suits and minced oaths are my type?” I quip.

“Minced what?”

“Oath,” Conner jumps in, coming to my defense, only it earns him a scornful glare from his girlfriend. “Nothing.” Connor ducks his head. “I said absolutely nothing.”

“She’s not my type,” I explain to Arie, pushing the drawer shut.

“No? Sweet. Innocent. Fiery.” Arie ticks off her fingers like she’s got me pegged.

“When was the last time I even dated someone?” I throw back at her. “Uh, forever.”

“Hence my previous commentary on your poor usage of the word plenty,” Arie jabs.

“Fine,” I admit. “Plenty means never. Thus, I don’t think you need to worry about it.”

“Oh, no no.” Arie swivels her head like she’s about to open a can of dragon sass. “That’s exactly why I need to worry about it. You need to get laid!”

I shake my head at my best friend. “Nope, I’m the one who tellsyouto get laid. In fact, I’m pretty sure if you don’t get laid every twenty-four hours you’ll explode into a red pile of Arie-Jello.”

“That makes no sense,” Arie says flatly. “I have Connor. And I’m insulted that you think I even go twenty-four hours without needing his cock inside me again.”

“Damn right!” Connor growls in a tone that says the two of them are going to need some privacy in a second.

I shake my head at both of them. “Please wait until I can return to my office and lock the door, thanks.” I head toward the back hall.

“You’ve gone way too long without getting laid, Simon!” Arie calls after me.

“I’m fine!”

“Yes, you’re a fine piece of ass who’s going to waste away because he’s got a stick up his butt,” Arie corrects.

I turn back and catch Connor’s eye. “Does it piss you off when she calls me a fine piece of ass like that?”

He gives me a hard frown, before flipping it to a wicked grin. “I’ll punish her later for it.”

“Oh, geez,” I grumble. “I walked right into that.”

Arie makes a kissy face at her boyfriend before focusing her attention back on me. “My point is—”

“Oh, you have a point?” I interrupt, heading back to my office.

“You know the saying,” Arie sing-songs. “Keep your friends close but your enemies”—her eyebrows waggle suggestively—“closer.”

Arie isn’t shy about the inuendo.

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