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Harper chewed her lip. “She seems…direct.”
“That’s probably the nicest way to describe her. But she’s a straight shooter. She’s always been good to me. We should see what they want.”
“Okay,” Harper answered, her voice doing that uneasy octave jump.
“Are you nervous, bonbon?” he asked. The color had drained from her face, and she looked half ready to throw Carol in reverse and Indy 500-it out of there.
“No,” she sang out in that adorably ridiculous opera voice. “Let’s get on with it.”
That’s all they could do.
He gestured for Mitzi to step back and opened the car door.
The twitch of a grin pulled at the corners of his manager’s mouth, but before she could utter a single syllable, she flinched and touched her jaw.
“Are you okay, Mitz?”
She rubbed her jaw, then dropped her hand to her side and looked past him, presumably to get a glimpse of his wife. “It’s nothing.” Her smirk returned. “You’ve been busy.”
He kept his features neutral. “You could say that.”
“Exchanging vows in Vegas is an interesting way to blow off a little steam,” she lobbed back.
“To each his own,” he answered cautiously. He’d expected the woman to be angry. He’d known Mitzi for a long time, and this was not her pissed-off face. She still dished out barbs and pointed looks, but she wasn’t anxious like she’d been last time they’d spoken after his concert.
What kind of meeting was this?
Mitzi shared a curious look with Madelyn, which wasn’t that odd. The women knew each other. His manager had connected him with the matchmaker, so the two of them getting together didn’t strike him as out of the ordinary.
What was odd was being summoned to meet the women at a Cupid Bakery in Baxter Park.
What could they want, and why this location? It had to be more than a bonbon meetup.
Madelyn had already told him his married status precluded her from working with him.
Was this the meeting for them to break ties officially?
But why would Harper need to come along for that?
And speaking of Harper, where was she?
He looked from side to side, then glanced over his shoulder. She was still in the car.
What the hell was she doing in there?
“I should check on my…”
“Your wife?” Mitzi supplied, keeping her tone even, but he could tell she enjoyed this. “And you seem to have something coming out of your pocket.”
Damn panties.
“It’s a…private doily,” he muttered, stuffing it away. God help him! He gathered his wits and nodded to Madelyn, who appeared quite amused. Well, at least their situation was good for something. He jogged over to the driver’s side door and opened it, but Harper didn’t move. “Do you need help with your seat belt?”
Had her diet of lollipops and bonbons sent her into a sugar coma?
“No, I’m familiar with how seat belts work,” she answered, gripping the steering wheel for dear life.
He crouched down. “It’s safe to get out now.”
