I slumped at my desk after my father left then forced myself to sit up straight. Greg had sent me several documents to look through on the property deal.
At least now you can drop out of the wedding and have more time to be in the office.
I suddenly missed Ivy. Except she didn’t seem all that ready to invite me into her bed, let alone her life. Though I had been considering dropping out as man of honor, I’d lose my connection with Ivy. And the thought of not seeing her again left me feeling oddly hollow.
27
Ivy
When Evan didn’t show up that night, I wasn’t sure if I was glad or upset.
It’s for the best.As nice as it had been to make out with him, that was as far as I could allow myself to go.
My mother’s words haunted me. A teen mom, she was always afraid I would, as she put it, make a life-altering bad decision. She never failed to remind me that she had sacrificed for me. Her emotions were all over the place as well. One minute, she would flop on my bed like we were besties and ask me about boys I liked; the next she would be screaming at me that I was a lying slut when all I really did was sit at home and flip through bridal magazines and daydream about meeting my Prince Charming.
You do know someone tall dark and handsome…
Evan is no prince, but he is charming.
I needed to cut Evan out cold turkey. The only problem? Planning Imogen’s wedding, I was around him constantly.
* * *
“I seriously need an office,”I said with a sigh as I walked into the lobby of Mika’s condo building.
Meeting at people’s houses was ridiculous and unprofessional. Weddings in the City played it off as being more convenient for clients, and I was sure most clients did prefer that we meet them at their homes or offices. However, I still wanted office space to legitimize us. The clock tower penthouse would be perfect—all those windows, the unique space. Plus, it was in a hotel building that had a conference center in it, so it wasn’t like inviting someone to a residential apartment complex.
Dreams, meet empty bank account. I’m sure you two will get along well.
“You still haven’t figured out how you’re going to pay not one but two mortgages,” I chided myself. “Focus on surviving this wedding and getting paid!”
But my not-Prince Charming, with his height, his shoulders, and the washboard abs under that perfectly tailored suit, was going to make that difficult.
Evan inclined his head when he saw me enter the elevator lobby. “Ready for the never-ending wedding-planning saga from hell?” he asked with that sexy, crooked smile.
“Weddings are lovely, and I’m sorry that you’re such a marriage Grinch,” I said, trying to ignore the part of me that was jumping up and down, begging Evan to kiss her. “I personally try to extend a certain amount of grace to the bride, as I know it can be a stressful time.”
Evan snorted as he swiped his keycard to call the elevator. “Do you ever lose your cool?” he asked me, eyes slightly narrowed. “Or are you always Ms. Professional Planner?”
“I have at least a wedding a weekend,” I said, positioning myself on the opposite side of the elevator from Evan. “I have to make sure everything is perfect for the brides.”
He leaned against the wall and regarded me. “So you never want to pick up a handful of wedding cake and throw it at one of them?”
“Is this some sort of ham-fisted attempt to bring the conversation around to covering your dick in chocolate?” I asked, eyebrow raised.
“Me?” Evan asked in mock indignation. “Never!”
The elevator dinged, and I stepped off to ring the doorbell. Evan stood behind me. His breath was hot on the back of my neck. “I bet I could make you lose your cool, make you let go of that professional demeanor. I just have to put my tongue in your—Hi, Mika!” he said loudly when his sister opened the door.
“You’re in luck,” Mika whispered to us as she ushered us inside. “Imogen just had a shot glass of a probiotic drink, so her blood sugar’s up, and she’s fairly well-tempered.”
After greeting everyone, I handed out copies of the proposed ceremony program. Imogen read through it. If she hadn’t just had her Botox redone, she’d probably be scowling.
“You at least got this program correct,” Imogen said begrudgingly.
“I’m glad to hear it.”
I was trying to concentrate on the job, but Evan was making bedroom eyes at me from across the table. I kicked him in the shin.
