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Rylie’s heart almost exploded from her chest. This was it. With her friend Marley gone, Rylie was the top bridesmaid at Something Borrowed. Although she loved Marley, she had been praying for this chance since she’d watched Tonya Rolland, the governor of California’s daughter, walk down the hallway into Kelly’s office last week. The governor was a favorite for the next presidential election. The Rollands were originally from Alabama, and had moved to California when Tonya was six. Since then, the governor had risen through the political ranks and had become beloved by the people, as was his altruistic daughter.
Blake Marconi, Tonya’s fiancé, had played basketball for UCLA and gotten his degree in political science before being picked up by the NBA. The Los Angeles Lakers had snagged him, and the big Italian was a fan favorite not just for his jump shot, but his extensive charity work. It was how he’d met Tonya; they’d been seated together at an animal rights dinner, and hit it off. It was a storybook romance and Rylie wanted to be a part of it.
Then, the entirety of his words sank in. “Wait, why does she want you there?”
Before she could blink, Dustin snagged one of her muffins and bit into it, chewing slowly. She watched his full lips as he chewed, waiting for him to elaborate with a pounding heart and her mind racing with dread. The agony was killing her, until finally he swallowed.
“I have a feeling the two of us are going to make this wedding very special.”
The two of us? THE TWO OF US?
After years of being patient, her big account was a shared one with Don Juan Le Douchebag?
“Are you kidding me?” Stepping around the desk, Rylie mumbled, “There has to be some kind of mistake.”
Dustin followed behind her, talking in a low, suggestive tone. “Oh, no mistake, baby. Just destiny.”
“Shut up.” Rylie knocked on Kelly’s office door, ignoring Dustin as he came up to stand beside her, bristling when his shoulder brushed hers. She had no idea why he irritated her so much, beyond the fact that he was an obvious womanizer and liked to manipulate women to get his way.
That was probably reason enough.
But she hated to admit, even to herself, that when Dustin had first started working there, she’d naively thought that all his charm and snark was just a cover for the good guy beneath.
Then she’d learned that he had slept with one of Marley’s engaged clients, and realized she was an idiot when it came to men’s characters. While she’d been charmed by him, he’d been helping someone else break a promise.
She could tolerate a lot of things, but a cheater wasn’t one of them.
Which was probably why she’d stayed with her boyfriend, Asher, for so long. Their relationship was far from perfect, but Asher wasn’t the cheating type.
“Come in,” Kelly called.
Dustin beat her to the doorknob. As he twisted it open, she looked up in time to catch his grin.
“After you.”
Rylie passed him with a sniff and sat in one of the chairs opposite Kelly, trying to read her boss’s pleasant expression. Did she even realize what she was doing? Did she not trust Rylie to handle an A-list client?
“You wanted to see me?”
“And me,” Dustin said, taking the seat next to her.
Rylie gritted her teeth even as she caught his amusement out of the corner of her eye. He was really enjoying this, and it made her want to take her four-inch red heels and find an uncomfortable place to put them.
A striking woman with long black hair and green eyes, Kelly was the kind of woman Rylie used to dream about looking like in high school. It had taken years, but Rylie didn’t look at her boss with envy anymore. She liked the way she was.
Kelly smiled and leaned forward, oblivious to the tension between them. “I’m sure you have an idea why I’ve called you both in here.”
“The Rolland/Marconi wedding,” Dustin said.
“Yes. They want to keep a very tight lid on everything, including the location. Close friends and family only and no press. You two are to get everything ready, so when they arrive, all they have to do is get dressed and walk down the aisle.”
Rylie wasn’t the type to rock the boat, but she couldn’t help being irritated. She’d worked hard to get this account; she didn’t need a partner, especially some playboy millionaire who couldn’t keep his penis to himself.
Taking a deep breath, she blurted, “Kelly, I know this is a huge account, but I can handle it on my own.”
The office went dead silent, and Kelly sat back, her brow furrowed. “Dustin, would you please step out and close the door?”
“Sure.”
