Page 102 of The Wrong Groom

“Oh!” Heat rises to my face at once. I take his hand, doing my best to maintain eye contact. My fingers feel stiff. I’m suddenly certain I’m doing everything wrong. “That’s… that’s great.”

“It’s impressive, what the two of you are doing with that platform,” Connor continues. “Have there been any unexpected challenges?”

I swallow. “Well… I d-didn’t think it would be so m-much work to refurbish the space.” I cringe, disappointed in myself for stuttering. My gaze flicks to Gabriel, and he offers me a reassuring smile.

“What did you have to do?” Connor asks politely.

“Some of the structural supports had to b-be replaced. And the whole place was f-full of cobwebs.”

“You wouldn’t know it from her latest videos,” Gabriel says, and my heart swells at the pride in his voice. “It looks like it was built to be a fashion studio.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” says Connor. “My daughters have shown me some of your content. It’s quite an impressive space.”

“Thank you,” I say, grateful for the praise. I lean against Gabriel slightly, and feel his hand at my hip, solid and supportive.

“Well, I should go make sure everything is set up for the auction.” Connor straightens, giving us a nod. “It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Thorne.”

“Nice to meet you, as well.”

As Connor moves away, Gabriel glances down at me. I look up to meet his gaze, unable to hide my anxiety.

“Was that alright?” I whisper, my voice quiet enough that it’s almost lost to the crowd.

“What are you talking about?” he replies, amusement shining in his eyes.

“I…” I trail off. I don’t want to point out my own failures, but I’m certain I don’t need to. He heard me stutter, loud and clear.

“Don’t worry.” He leans down to plant a kiss on my temple, and a warm sensation unfurls in my chest. “You were amazing, as always.”

The knot of tension in my chest loosens slightly at Gabriel’s words, but a flicker of doubt lingers. “I just feel like I’m not… polished enough for all of this,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “People like Connor probably expect⁠—”

“Alexis.” Gabriel’s tone is gentle but firm, cutting off my spiraling thoughts. “You’re exactly who you need to be. There’s no one I would rather have representing FlashUp.”

I blush, staring down at the bubbles in my champagne flute. Gabriel takes my free hand and gives it a squeeze.

“Try to enjoy yourself,” he murmurs. “You’re amazing, sunshine.”

I nod, managing a small smile. “Thank you. I’ll try.”

A server passes by with a tray of hors d’oeuvres, and Gabriel plucks a canapé off it, holding it out to me. “Here. A little fuel for the evening.”

“Thanks.” I take it from him, my fingers brushing against his, and pop it into my mouth. It’s smoked salmon on a thin slice of toasted bread, salty and tangy, with a sprig of dill to add variety to its flavor. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until this moment. Before the server can vanish from sight, I hurry forward to grab another canapé.

Behind me, Gabriel chuckles. For a moment, I’m mortified. I turn toward him slowly, expecting a recrimination, but he smiles.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” he says. “Eat. Drink. It’s a party.”

“I don’t know if canapés are going to cut it,” I admit, glancing down at the piece of salmon folded across the crostini. “I didn’t eat lunch today.”

He sighs fondly. “Why the hell not?”

“I was at the warehouse,” I admit. “I just lost track of time.”

“You know, when I said you should take on a passion project, I didn’t mean you should forget to eat.” He glances at his wristwatch. “Dinner’s in half an hour. But if you’re too hungry, I can get⁠—”

“No, no,” I say quickly. “I’m good. Half an hour is fine.”

“Are you sure?”