Page 5 of Champagne Fizz

I swallow hard and muffle out a “Mmm-hmm?”

“I’m headed to that meeting too.” Kent’s gorgeous blue eyes twinkle. “So … yeah, that’s gonna be real fun!”

Double fuuuuuzzzzz.

Hopefully, I’ll explode into a yellow cloud of magic and evaporate in this exact moment. That would be ideal. Universe, you can arrange that, right?

“I hope you’re as good at negotiating as you promised,” Kent says, winking at me from behind those horn-rimmed glasses before he steps out of the elevator doors. “Because Olivia loves working here. Heck, half the restaurant is full of her paintings. So, that comment about the couple getting married in a place they love … maybe you should get to know your clients better before you cast judgement. In fact, I bet Sue Blade has an episode all about that. You know, with everything she says about accountability and cleaning up your own messes.”

Did he just Sue Blade speech me?

Oh no, he didn’t!

This yellow-suited ball of sunshine can flip from fun to furious in ten-seconds flat. Especially if he’s going to throw my idol back at me like she’s cheap internet trash. But before I have a chance to unleash the verbal Kraken, Kent turns around and motions toward the restaurant obnoxiously.

“Are you coming?”

I glare at him tight-lipped and do my best to push the raging beast surfacing in my lungs back down into its hidey hole in my gut.

“You go ahead,” I clip out, catching the elevator door to keep it from closing. “I’ll be in in a minute.”

That smile spreads across his face again and my whole body warms at the sight of it. Fuzz-you, body! You are not allowed to be this turned on by a pretty man’s smile.

“I bet you need a minute,” he says arrogantly, before showing me his back. He struts toward the restaurant looking way too good in those tight pants.

Jeeez libido, get it in check! You’re a professional and you have a wedding to plan. You can’t turn to relish every time a hot guy walks away from you. Only, when it comes tomylibido, that’s exactly what she wants to do. She wants to turn everything into a siesta party ofAren’t you beautiful? How about we get naked!

Traitor.

I step out of the elevator and glance at the restaurant. The word Flambé is printed on the side in big elegant letters.

I am so fuzzed.

If Clark Kent tells my clients anything about this, I’m getting fired (which just goes to show that I have no clue what I’m doing and I probably can’t hack it in the wedding business, just like my former boss Veronica West implied).

Who’s the imposter now, Sue Blade?

It turns out it’s me.

It’s absolutely me.

2

SIMON

Iwalk away from Ned and Olivia’s wedding planner with a smirk on my face. She was already a gorgeous shade of pink before I delivered that searing blow that I co-own the restaurant she wants nothing to do with. I can only imagine what newly primed shade of red now colors her skin.

A wild thrill zips through me, and I do my best to resist peeking over my shoulder and gloating. She has to walk into this meeting in a second anyway. I can wait a few minutes before I get the reward of watching her skulk in with her tail between her legs and those gorgeous brown eyes wide and apologizing.

Well … maybe. It’s possible she’ll dig in her heels and insist Olivia and Ned take their wedding elsewhere. I saw the fire in her eyes when I made that crack about Sue Blade. Hell hath no fury like a Sue Blade fan scorned. She was ready to school me on the miracle that isSlay Your Business, followed by her testimony on how it changed her life and isn’t BS propaganda.

This meeting is about to get fun.

I walk in the front door of Flambé, unable to stop thinking about that sexy, yellow ball of fire and brimstone. I mean, everything about her screamsPick a fight, I dare you!Her wild, lion’s mane of curly brown hair is a bramble of spitfire, and that audacious yellow suit is just begging for a comment from the fashion police. Not that she doesn’t wear it well; she’s got the body and the sass to pull it off. I’ll give the woman credit, she’s got guts. Nobody walks around looking like the poster child for marshmallow Peeps (those sickeningly sweet candy chicks covered in neon yellow and pink sprinkles) without having genuine hutzpah!

And she’s got hutzpah in spades.

Which she’s going to need, because there’s no way she’s going to convince Olivia tonothave her reception at Flambé without going toe-to-toe with my co-owner and head-chef, Arie. And Arie is a whole other level of crazy—the hot-headed, dominant, type A kind.

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