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And she’s right. I would murder someone if they interrupted me during a business deal.
“I signed it.”
She opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out for a full minute. “I don’t know what to say.”
I lean in, and immediately regret it. She smells like warm cake. “Now, if you want sex from me, you’ll have to beg me for it.”
Her cheeks flush. “There will be no begging.”
I raise a brow. “You have my word, I won’t touch you.” I step back, straightening my suit coat. As I walk away, I peek back over my shoulder and against my better judgement, stoke the flames a little more. “Unless you ask me to.”
Chapter 9
Clementine
I don’t ever plan on asking Gabriel to touch me. I watch him walk through the corridor, toward the exit, as if he owns the place. As if he owns me.
When I can no longer see him, I open the envelope and there’s a note inside.
Engagement party Friday. Show up early at 3pm.
The rest of the note is the details of the party, and my eyelid twitches. I fold it up, and head back to the kitchen so Erin and I can get out of here.
Thirty minutes later, on the car ride back to the store, high on residual happiness from the event we just left, Erin chatters about all things wedding. And then proceeds to make my stomach drop. “You’ll have to start planning yours soon,” she says. “What kind of dress do you want?”
My heart beats in time with the blinker as I wait to make the left into the Let Them Eat Cake parking lot. I guess this is it. This is really happening. And not the way I imagined it would.
When you’ve been creating wedding cakes as long as I have, you start to think of certain elements you want at yourownwedding.
I remember being twelve-years-old and Savannah and I would dress up in our mother’s gowns and pretend we were getting married.
And I was always marrying Prince Charming. But, Gabriel isn’t the prince. He’s the villain in this fairy tale.
“I don’t care.” I blow a random strand of hair out of my eyes as I park. “Is it weird? It’s weird, right?”
“Are you kidding me?” Her eyes are huge when I look over. “Take advantage. He’s only the hottest man on the planet.”
“It doesn’t matter that he’s hot. It’s not arealmarriage.”
“Are you saying vows to each other? Are you both saying, ‘I do?’ Then, it’s a wedding.”
“You’re right. But, it won’t be like that.”
“Maybe not in theory. But…” she pauses, and gives me a mischievous grin, “why make it easy on him?”
“What do you mean?”
She twists a little in the passenger seat to face me. “I foresee a huge event. One he should be involved in every step of the way.” Her brow raises for emphasis. “Flowers, cakes, menus, every stressful detail that I’m sure he doesn’t want to be bothered with.”
I laugh a little. “I’m sure he’d rather hand that off.”
“Exactly.” She smiles.
“I like that idea.” I blow out a breath. “I better go. Can you give Dena the invoice?” I pull it out of my purse and she takes it from me. “Also, want to come to my engagement party on Friday?” I ask her.
“Sure, Troy will be at his dad’s house for the weekend.” She unfastens her seatbelt. “I still can’t believe you’re getting married.”
I roll my eyes a little. “Don’t remind me.”
