Page 89 of Champagne Fizz

“You can hang out with whomever you want.”

“Can I?”

She shrugs like my time with Kendall doesn’t bother her—though it clearly does.

“You don’t like it,” I assert. “And yet you can’t seem to ask me how my day is before saddling me up like a task horse.”

“I thought you liked being the liaison between me and Miss neon-color-blocking-is-an-80s-trend-I-can’t-get-enough-of,” Arie tosses back, pointing to the stack. “Those aren’t unsolicited, she asked for them. And … how’s your grandfather?”

She doesn’t really care about the answer to that last question. She’s just making a point of repeating what I offered her at the beginning of this conversation.

“My grandfather is dead,” I say dryly.

“Oh!” Arie rolls her eyes. “Well thank you for that glorious example of the type of bullshit you’d like to be asked.”

“The point is still valid.”

“Then put me on your schedule for root-beer float keg stands,” she tosses back. “Unless, of course, you’re already scheduled to do that with Kendall who probably doesn’t drink beer.”

“She doesn’t drink beer,” I note. “And I’m allowed to haveother friends, you know.”

“I’m sure friends isn’t exactly what the two of you have been doing,” Arie snips in a nasty tone.

“Well, that’s my business too,” I defend. “No matter what I’m doing with Kendall—friends or not—it doesn’t affect you and me.” Though looking at her frowning face, it clearly does. “Unless you want to keep up this jealousy routine.”

“I’m not jealous!”

“I think you might need to ask Connor what that word means,” I throw back, frustrated now.

“And I think you need to stop being a condescending ass.”

“Why don’t you go cook,” I snap, snatching the stack of papers. “I’m going to go run an errand and go see mynew best friend.”

“Good,” Arie snips hotly. “That’s what I was asking you to do anyway.”

“Your favorite delivery boy.”

“Please make sure that Miss Canary notices Esme’s address at the top of the list. It’s important that Esme and Desmond get a wedding invitation. Otherwise, there won’t be any celebrity photos for our submission toHollywood Bride.”

“Because that’s obviously the most important part of this wedding,” I grumble, heading for the door. Not to mention, she keeps ping-ponging back and forth about a second location.

“It is if you want the feature spot in the magazine and to have a serious shot at expanding,” Arie tosses back like that’s the only thing I’m ever interested in.

“Maybe things like that don’t really matter.”

Arie glares at me like I have three heads.

“When you see Canary Pom-Pom,” Arie says, making a dramatic hand gesture, “please make sure she returns Simon from whatever neon-yellow voo-doo trance she’s got you under.”

“You bet,” I say angrily, swinging open my office door. “Is there anything else you need before I leave, your royal highness?”

“Your first born child. Canary Pom-Pom on a stick,” Arie tosses back.

I ball up my hands, sick of this display. “You know Arie, I always knew there’d come a time when your bullshit stopped being amusing and I’d be done with it. Maybe even done with you. You’d better be careful, because you’re really close to finding my last nerve.” I make a gesture with my fingers to show just how short that fuse really is.

To my surprise Arie’s face falls, wounding with emotion.

Only, she doesn’t get to play that card and pretend to be the innocent victim. She’s acting like an entitled child. I love her as a friend, but not when she thinks she can throw her weight around and I’ll just bend over and take it.

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