“Lauren, I’m about to make your day.” Nyla’s sing-song voice lilted through the room.
Lauren glanced at the bouquet of roses on the round table where she held tastings as Nyla walked back toward her desk. Relieved Nyla didn’t comment on the flowers, she clutched her coffee mug and took a long drink of the brew.
“Ten bucks says my answer is no.” Flipping open her binder that should hold details of twice as many parties, she knew she’d have to say yes to whatever her wedding planner friend suggested.
“The Nelson wedding.” Nyla smiled like the cat that ate the canary. “Jeannie said you did a wonderful job on the engagement luncheon yesterday.”
Lauren narrowed her eyes. “The other caterer quit, didn’t they?”
“Now, Lauren. Sometimes people don’t have the same vision.” Nyla shrugged off her black leather coat as she sat in one of the high-backed chairs opposite Lauren’s desk and tugged down the sleeves of her black turtleneck sweater.
“She hated the petit fours yesterday.” Lauren crossed her arms across her chest. “Ranted nine different ways about my incompetence with royal icing.”
“There aren’t any petit fours on this menu.”
“I hate weddings.” Lauren picked an imaginary piece of lint off her brown slacks and toyed with the brown fringe of her coppery macramé sash tie belt.
“No, you don’t.”
“No, I really do. I don’t want to cater a wedding.”
“I do.” Diego chimed in from the back. Nyla’s pale face lit up as he rounded the partition, wiping his hands on his apron.
Lauren shook her head. “Mrs. Nelson’s caterer fired her, and now Nyla is trying to get us to sign on.”
“Are we free?” He reached around her, flipping through the book. “December, right?”
“The fifteenth.” Nyla nodded with a smile.
“We’ll do it,” Diego said.
“Wait a minute.” Lauren took a deep breath to keep from raising her voice. She loved both Nyla and Diego, but damn if it didn’t feel like they were manipulating her into something. And she’d had enough manipulation from Cameron Price to last her for a good long while.
He’d tricked her into more of a fake relationship than she agreed to, kissed her breathless, and then never called. Not that he said he would. He probably thought sending two-dozen roses this morning would wipe the slate clean. But she couldn’t do a thing about him, so she focused on work.
“We haven’t heard about the location, the menu, the timeline, negotiated a price. You can’t just sign on without the facts.”
“Lauren, you agreed I could have more responsibility.” Diego crossed his hands across his chest and stared down at her.
When she’d talked him into working for her two years ago, he’d had family responsibilities that made the hours he’d have to put in working for a restaurant impossible. But with his younger brother now at the university, his options weren’t so limited. And she needed him to stay on, take on a bigger role to grow the business the way she planned. It was just so darned hard letting go of the control.
“I’m not saying no. Especially if you’re willing to run the job. There is more to it than making a great meal. You need to get the facts first.”
“The Ambassador ballroom, the wedding’s at six, two hundred guests. An appetizer buffet with six traveling waiters. Two courses at dinner. Yummy is making the cake. The hotel is handling the bar service. Give me an estimate, and I’ll make it work.” Nyla folded her hands and plopped them in her lap, looking pleased as punch.
“Did you two plan this?” Lauren looked between the two, who stared blankly at her. Nyla used every opportunity to get close to her crush, though Diego was usually immune.
“Nyla, can we email you an estimate once we’ve worked it up?” Diego said with a smile.
“Oh. Okay. No problem.” Nyla stood, slipping into her jacket and pulling her purse onto her shoulder. “Here’s the thing.”
“I knew there was a thing!” Lauren smacked the top of her desk.
“It’s not a big thing. And Diego is so creative, it won’t even be an issue.”
“Don’t inflate his ego, just spill.” Lauren leaned forward, preparing for the worst. Like an impossibly tight budget or bizarre food allergies.
“The menu needs to be low-carb and vegetarian.”
“With a wedding cake?” Lauren shook her head.
“It’s a low-carb tofu cheesecake covered in sugar-free chocolate ganash and decorated with flowers.” Nyla’s smug smile made Lauren laugh.
“How do you do your job and keep a straight face? And how in the world do they expect us to do a low-carb vegetarian dinner?”
“Vegetarian or vegan?” Diego asked.
“I’ll find out.” Nyla’s mouth twisted and Lauren huffed out a breath. This wedding was a nightmare waiting to happen. Complete with the mother-of-the-bride from Hades.
Diego nodded, making Lauren realize just how unprepared he really was. He wanted to have more of a role, but in order for that to happen, she’d have to show him the ropes.
“Let’s arrange a meeting with the bride and groom.” Lauren looked through her planner for an appropriate date. “We’ll learn their preferences and arrange a tasting from there. Maybe even recreate a special meal.”
Nyla pursed her lips together, but didn’t answer.
“What is it?”
“The groom’s mother is handling the menu,” Nyla answered through gritted teeth.
“I’m out.” Lauren slammed the book closed. Nyla knew better than to ask her to get involved in a train wreck. And a bride who’d checked out of her own wedding always signaled chaos.
“What? Why?” Diego put his hands on his hips, his dark brow furrowing.
“It’s not what you think, Lauren. The groom’s parents are avid low-carb dieters, so the bride thought it’d be easier if they handled the menu.”
Lauren grabbed the edge of her chair to keep from running out of the room. The only thing worse than a bridezilla was a mother of the groom on a power trip. People went crazy when it came to planning a wedding, so Lauren avoided the situation whenever possible.
The jingle of the bell on the front door sounded, and everyone looked up again, this time at the jolly woman carrying the enormous vase of long stemmed red roses. Three dozen, if she had to guess. Lauren recognized the woman from the early morning flower delivery, before the rest of her team had arrived for work.
“These are for Lauren Brody, again,” the woman said with a smile, setting them on the small desk. “Where do you want them?”
Lauren raised a hand, ignoring Nyla’s perfectly arched brow and Diego entirely. The woman set the vase on Lauren’s desk and handed her an envelope.
“You’re very lucky,” the woman said with a wink and a smile.
Lauren smoothed the white envelope beneath her fingers, the room completely silent except for the jingle of the bell as the woman left. She tried to reign in her hopes, knowing if the roses were from whom she wanted them to be from, she’d have to school her reaction.
“Oh, honey. These are gorgeous. What did you do to deserve these?” Nyla fingered a blossom. Lauren barely held in the urge to swat her hand away.
“Did you know him before Saturday night?” Diego stared down at her, making her twist in her seat.
“Know who?” Nyla’s gaze stuttered between Lauren and Diego. “You didn’t tell me you met someone.”
“Are those from him, too?” Ricky asked, leaning over the partition.
Lauren clutched the card in her hand. The first envelope held his business card, nothing more. She wanted to keep whatever this envelope held to herself in case it was some sort of business contract. But then, who sent a contract with roses? She blinked away the thought. A man who arranged fake relationships and then kissed you breathless, that’s who.
“You’re really serious about him, aren’t you?” Diego shook his head, annoyance coating every feature.
“H
old the phone. Who’s sending you roses?” Nyla’s eyes widened so much Lauren thought they might bug out of her head. “Who is he?” Nyla rounded the desk. “Why haven’t I met him?” She stuck out her full bottom lip.
“Because he’s either some big secret she’s been keeping for a while, or aliens have invaded her body.” Diego shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “What’s really going on with you and Price?”
Lauren decided the envelope was the easiest route at this juncture. After all, if he’d changed the plan she didn’t have nearly as much explaining to do.
The computer printed note let her down. She’d so wanted to see his handwriting. A romantic notion, she knew. But she wanted to think he’d done more than had his assistant make a call. It didn’t matter what she wanted.
Meet me for dinner, and a proper proposal.
The exclusive and pricey restaurant he listed made her smile. He wouldn’t find a thing he’d be willing to eat on the menu. Everything required delicate attention. Unless he chose it because he didn’t want to pay her too much notice.
She didn’t know quite what she’d gotten herself into with Cameron and this scheme, or if she’d be able to keep her attraction to him in check if he put the moves on her again. But before she took the safe path and bowed out, she wanted to find out just what he had in mind.
“Oh my God. You are serious about him!” Nyla wrapped her up in a hug that proved nearly impossible to shrug off. Finally, she stepped away, fumbling for her purse and coming up with her phone. “When are you thinking?”
“Thinking?” She wasn’t thinking anything but that a cute guy asked her to have a fun evening that rapidly spiraled out of their control. If she’d been thinking, she would have thought of a better solution than being his fake girlfriend in the first place.
“For your wedding.”
“Uh-uh. No wedding.” Fake girlfriend she could pull off if given proper incentive. But no fake weddings. There she drew the line.
“Don’t do this to me. You can’t elope.” Nyla looked like she might cry. Her eyes actually glistened. She should have been an actress.
Diego shook his head and retreated to the kitchen. Lucky duck. She should run away from Nyla and her crazy wedding planning, too.
“You’re already doing it.” Lauren ran her hand through her hair, pushing the strawberry blonde waves over her shoulder. “Sane people want to have a marriage, not a wedding.”
“I’m not pushing, just being practical. I have connections, so I could move quickly, but you have to give me time to make everything perfect.”
“I don’t need a perfect wedding. Or any wedding at all. I’m dating someone.” Or not. “That doesn’t always lead to the picket fence and minivan.”
“We should do it at your mom’s house. In the garden in the spring. Can you wait until spring?”
Lauren sat up straight and prepared her best bossy voice. “Nyla, there will be no wedding.”
“But it would mean so much to your mom.”
“Don’t guilt me.” Lauren hadn’t thought about preparing her mother for the news. But she had to now. Her mother might rarely leave the house, but she knew everything about the Seattle social grapevine.
“This could be so good for her.” Nyla smiled. Lauren had to stop this train of thought.
“You’re doing exactly what bothers me about weddings. You’re marrying me off, and yet you don’t know to whom. You don’t know what he does, how he treats me, or who he is. You only care that I get a ring on my finger so you can plan the party.”
“I trust your judgment with men. That’s why I’m not pushing to meet him. And for the record, you’re not volunteering any information, either.”
The door stole their attention as the bell announced another visitor. The same happy woman entered with an identical bouquet. She nudged Lauren’s appointment book as she set down the vase and passed her another envelope.
“There’s a phone number at the bottom, honey. You’re supposed to call him.” The woman winked and grinned, making her way out of the shop.
“Call him!” Nyla demanded.
“No.” Lauren would call, but not with an audience. And not until she was good and ready.
“Why not? Are you having cold feet?”
“You have to at least call and thank him for the flowers.” Ricky’s head peeked out from the kitchen.
“Butt out, all of you.” Lauren pushed each vase to opposite sides of her desk and opened her planner, trying to get some work done beneath the blooms. Nyla simply stared at her, no doubt forming her argument with each tap of her black suede boot against the floor.
Sliding the envelope beneath the planner, Lauren tried to focus on ordering enough plates and tables from the rental company for the parties they were catering next week. After filling out the forms, she stood and walked to the fax machine.
On top of the machine sat the Come For Dinner box lunch menu. Lauren fingered the flyer, a wicked plan forming in her mind. Cameron did agree she’d get Anders & Norton business as well. Pulling his business card out of her pocket, Lauren scrawled a cover page saying little more than his name and hers. With a triumphant smile she dialed the number, listening to the electronic beep and groan as the machine did its job.
Looking out the front windows she froze as she spied the white delivery van out front, again. Seconds later in walked the same cheery woman and the same bouquet of red roses. She set the vase smack in the middle of Lauren’s desk, then crossed the small room to hand her an envelope.
“I think he plans on keeping this up all day. Which is fine by me, but most women start to give in after the second delivery.”
Lauren turned the envelope over in her hand. Inside was a note with one word. Please. “Does he have you come every half hour until he calls it off?”
“Not exactly. He calls with a new message each time.”
Oh. So he was putting some effort into this. Well. That changed everything. Lauren crossed to her desk, flipping through her Rolodex for the addresses she needed.
She pulled out a sheet of stationary and quickly scribbled a message of her own. One that included the address of her favorite restaurant. If he wanted to see her, he’d need to make an effort.
“Let’s try something a little different with the next delivery, shall we?”
Chapter Five
Having an affair with Cameron Price would break every dating rule Lauren had ever tried to live by. And yet, as she bustled down the busy sidewalk toward the restaurant, she couldn’t get the idea out of her mind. Cameron fit the mold of what she wanted in a man in every way but one. He’d stated a relationship didn’t interest him.
Maybe she was drawn to emotionally unavailable men. In between building her business, keeping up with her friends, logging time on the treadmill at the gym, keeping up on her latest book club read, reality television craze, celebrity scandal and fad diet, she had little time to search out the perfect man.
The conservative, educated, successful men she’d dated all claimed to want an equal partner, until they realized just how many hours it took to run your own business. They expected her to understand about their busy schedules and demanding clients, but that understanding had never been reciprocated. Since opening Come For Dinner she hadn’t been able to find someone willing to accept the time she had left when her workday ended.
But Cameron didn’t want a full-time relationship. Perhaps that created the urge propelling her naughty thoughts. At most, he wanted a part-time dalliance. And that’s all Lauren had energy for. It could be the perfect solution to the confusing predicament they found themselves in.
It sounded simple in her head, but Lauren had no idea how to approach the topic with Cameron. They were attracted to each other. He’d proven that with the kiss that had her running scared before she did something truly humiliating, like strip him naked and take him on the kitchen floor. Tonight he’d want to get their stories straight about the break-up. How could she convince him to let
the game play out a while longer?
Lauren found herself in front of the restaurant, with no time left to formulate a plan. Probably best not to get her hopes up and to play it by ear anyway. Catching her reflection in the glass, she ran a hand through the loose waves of her hair and straightened the ankle-length knit duster. And then spied Cameron already inside.
As if he could feel the weight of her stare, he turned in his seat. His gaze burned into hers, searing the moment in her memory. The smile on his lips went beyond charismatic. It showed his power, magnetism, ability to make her abandon everything she’d ever known to be right in favor of a chance to indulge her stifled wild side.
He rose from his seat and she quickly made her way inside the warm restaurant, walking directly to his table. The comforting scents of baking bread and fresh garlic protected her from his pheromones as she stood before him, drinking in the appreciative gleam in his eye as his gaze dripped over her body.
When she’d dressed this morning, the low-rise boot cut brown slacks and long sleeved fitted brown sweater had been nothing but practical. A frame for the fun touches of the coppery macramé sash tied low on her hips, the pointy toe, high heel brown leather boots, and the fantastic crochet trimmed bronze duster. Her love of fashion came in handy for the impromptu dinner date.
Cameron must have a similar appreciation for appearances. He looked magnificent in his olive worsted wool trousers and French-blue dress shirt, which brought out the striking blue of his eyes. The handkerchief in his suit coat pocket matched his shirt perfectly, the patterned tie picking up both the green of his suit and the blue of his shirt. The man could pose for a catalog.
Though she always went for conservative types, dress casual ruled the land. Shame more men didn’t realize the appeal of a well-tailored suit. Cameron in such a package made her heart lurch and her pulse throb. With every second in his presence, indulging in an affair became a better and better idea.
Cameron stepped to the side, pulling out her chair from the small table. The expression on his chiseled face was tranquil, almost cold, but she knew heat simmered beneath the planes of muscle and full mouth. As collected as he pretended to be, he must be as tempted as she was to take this from fake to real.
The Billionaire's Holiday Engagement (Invested in Love) Page 5