Page 77 of Champagne Fizz

“I’m a florist,” Becca says with a saucy jaunt. “And more men are intoflowersthan you might think.” Becca winks. “Maybe after this wedding, after you’ve enjoyed your spin on the Simon-stamen—” The Simon-what? Okay, the flower puns have gone a little far! “Maybe you and I can make a reservation at Flambé and I’ll tell you more about what to orderoffthe menu.”

I shut my mouth and try to swallow.

Something tells me there’s an entire buffet of Flambé employees that Becca’s happy to introduce me to. Only she doesn’t know I can barely sit in a man’s presence without turning into cream sauce. It’ll be a miracle to make it to third base with Simon, much less through an orgy of hot waiters.

“I’ll keep that under advisement,” I say with a tight lip, and Becca’s dimpled smile twitches, causing her to add several more flowers to my order without approving them with me. Great. I hope everyone expects a Flambé wedding to have phallic flowers standing at attention next to the hors d’oeuvres.

My phone buzzes, and when I look at the text my stomach drops.

Olivia:Why are you and Connor going behind my back?

Oh no!

Oh no no no no!

“I’m sorry, Becca.” I point at my phone. “The bride.”

“Of course.” Becca nods for me to use the back of her shop. The boutique is built like a French conservatory with an iron skeleton of beams, allowing the sunshine to stream through the glass panes. It’s a jungle of hanging plants and blooming colors, making every nook perfect to hide in.

“Thank you.” I hit dial on my phone and walk into the labyrinth-like aisles of tropical foliage. Did Connor talk to Olivia about inviting Ned’s parents to the wedding without me?

“Weddings with Hart,” Connor says picking up. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Olivia just texted me about us plotting,” I say, getting straight to the point.

“Well, aren’t you roses and sunshine on the telephone,” Connor quips, as I reach the end of the aisle and tuck myself behind a cart of nasturtiums.

“What did you say to her?”

“Um …” Connor pauses for a long moment, making my heart jump into my throat with all the possibilities. “Let’s meet at the Lava in twenty,” he finishes, unphased. “And bring Olivia. It’s just easier to do this in person.”

Dowhatin person? Stress out my client even more?

“I’m not with Olivia right now,” I gripe. “The whole point of having a wedding planner is so the bride doesn’t have to go on every errand and can have a life outside of the wedding.”

“Good news, there’s this magical computer device in your hand right now,” Connor banters back, “and it shoots fancy radio waves through the air. I bet you could use that to call her.”

“I need answers right now, Connor! Olivia’s pissed. I need to know what I’m walking into if I call her.”

“It’s about my mom,” he says, still cool as a frozen jalapeno. “And yes, we should involve Olivia in this.”

“At this point,” I grumble, trying not to crumple up the inspiration photo in my hand, “she’s onto us, so I think involving her is the obvious move.”

“Twenty minutes. At the Gin n’ Lava,” he confirms. “We’ll do the rest there. All of us.”

“The rest of what?”

“We call my mom.”

Knots tighten in my stomach.

“When you say all of us,” I clarify, gripping my phone tighter. “Do you mean—?”

“No, not Ned,” Connor counters. “All of us is you, me, and Olivia. Get with the plan. We’ve been over this, Kendall.”

We haven’t.

I asked for his help and now I’m being ambushed with a lack of information.

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