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Why did she always doubt him?
“I love that restaurant. It’s so quaint and intimate.” Sheridan turned to face her. “Have you two fallen back into bed yet?”
“What? Sheridan, of course not.” If her friend kept drilling her, she would confess that no, they hadn’t but wow, she really wished they had. And making that sort of confession was a bad thing. Then she would have to face the barrage of questions, and she wasn’t sure if she was up to it. If she’d ever be up to it.
“Come on, you can tell me. You seem pretty relaxed today. Last time I saw you, you were wound up tight.” Sheridan flashed her a knowing smile.
Willow clenched her teeth. Why did everyone think she was such a tense wreck? She’d been busy, yes, but nothing out of the ordinary. “I’m good. Really. Everything’s much better now that I have this place, and I know I can move forward with my plans. So much of my tension has been wrapped up in the unknown fate of my business, you know?”
“Sure.” Sheridan nodded. She didn’t look like she believed Willow whatsoever. “I bet some good sex helped too, right?”
“We didn’t have sex.” Willow hissed the last word. And she wasn’t lying. They didn’t have sex. “Stop, okay?”
“Whoa, defensive.” Sheridan held her hands up in front of her. “Don’t need to take all your aggression out on me.”
Willow parted her lips, ready to dump everything that had happened on her friend so she could shut her up, when her cell rang. Racing for it over on one of the side tables, she answered, not recognizing the phone number. “Hello.”
“Is this Sweet Treats?”
Crap. It was Sunday—she didn’t expect a business call. First thing on her list tomorrow: get a business phone line.
“Yes, this is Sweet Treats. How may I help you?” She put on her best professional voice, earning a big smile from her friend for her efforts.
“My daughter is having a bachelorette party in December in Las Vegas,” the man started. “And I was wondering if you were available.”
Willow ran to her desk and sat behind it, flipping through her schedule book until she came to December. “What date did you have in mind? I’m pretty booked through the month, what with the holidays and all.”
“The twenty-first, but we’ll need you there the entire weekend, if we can get you. It’s going to be a big party.” He paused. “Huge.”
Her mind racing, she saw she had a birthday party already scheduled on the afternoon of the twenty-first and a holiday open house that evening. Not to mention the corporate event on the twentieth and another party on the twenty-second. But she could have her two new employees help handle it. By then, she could also hire more employees to help cover everything. “Um, how big are we talking?” She wanted to make sure it would be worth her while.
“Five hundred people, give or take?”
She swallowed hard. “Wow, you weren’t lying when you said huge.”
He chuckled. “My daughter knows a lot of people. So do I.”
“Well, that sounds amazing. Would you like to come to my office and meet sometime this week so we could discuss the matter further?” She smiled when Sheridan gave her an enthusiastic thumbs-up.
“Absolutely. That sounds perfect,” the man said warmly.
“Your name, sir?” She grabbed a pen. “And what day would you like to meet?”
“Are you open tomorrow morning?”
“Uhh…” She glanced around the room. It may have looked a thousand times better than it did a few days ago, but it was still somewhat of a mess.
“I’m going out of the country on Tuesday and I’ll be gone for two weeks,” he added.
“Tomorrow sounds perfect but if we could make it for the afternoon?” She could scramble and straighten this place up more for her appointment between now and tomorrow morning. She might collapse from exhaustion but she could do it.
Never mind her date with Nick tomorrow night. Maybe he could take her to a movie and she could nap through the whole thing…
“Absolutely. Oh, and my name is Phil Whitmore.”
Oh. Shit.
She knew Phillip Whitmore. Well, more like she knew of him. She’d gone to high school with his daughter, though the girl was two years younger. A spoiled little princess who got whatever she wanted, Amanda Whitmore was a real piece of work.
