have dinner with me on Friday? Please?”
“To discuss Maya’s wedding dress?” she asked warily.
Fuck no. He didn’t give a shit about his sister’s wedding dress.
But he’d set himself up for this bullshit, so he forced himself to nod. “Yeah.”
“All right,” she said slowly. “We can do dinner. But, Mr. Tyler, I really need you to understand . . . I’m not looking for anything . . . romantic. Or sexual. This thing between us—I’m not going to pretend it’s not there, but I’m also not going to act on it. My career with the Belles is too important to me to risk screwing it up over something like this.”
His fist clenched harder, and he pulled his hand back at the rejection. He wasn’t surprised. Hell, he didn’t want anything, either; it was just . . . the straight-up dismissal burned. Not only because he was turned on as hell every time he looked at her, but because he got so much damned energy just from being around her.
And the feeling, apparently, was not mutual.
“It’ll just be a business dinner,” he said, his voice low and quiet. “I have them all the time.”
Which was true. Just not with people who looked like her. Not with people who made him feel the way she made him feel.
“Perfect,” she said primly. “I’ll see you Friday at five thirty, then. Shall we meet at the restaurant?”
“At my office, just in case I’m running late,” he said. “If that’s okay.”
She nodded. “Okay, then. Have a nice night, Mr. Tyler.”
“You too,” he said gruffly as she shut the door behind her.
But he wouldn’t have a nice night.
He’d be too busy trying to get her out of his damn head.
Chapter Twelve
I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU got us an appointment at Blanche,” Maya said admiringly as they stepped out of her town car onto the sidewalk outside one of the city’s most elite bridal shops.
“This is what you get when you hire the Belles,” Brooke said with a smile. “The best.”
“I know, but I have friends—famous friends—who couldn’t even get in,” Maya said, sounding slightly awed.
Brooke wasn’t surprised. Small, tony shops like Blanche very carefully cultivated their air of exclusivity. She knew they’d rather needlessly turn someone away than give them the impression that they were overly available.
But that’s why people hired the Belles. Half of a wedding planner’s job was wooing not just the brides but the vendors.
And lucky for Brooke, Alexis Morgan had gotten her stiletto-clad foot in the door of all the most elite vendors.
Brooke smiled indulgently, proud of herself for clearly impressing her client. They’d had a great day so far, a complete one-eighty from the disastrous venue-scouting day. It turned out that spending time with Maya Tyler without the presence of her hovering fiancé or domineering big brother was actually quite fun.
Brooke had liked the woman before. It was hard not to like someone who seemed so determined to be pleasant at every turn. But after the two of them had started their wedding dress consultation day with a Starbucks run, just the two of them, she was delighted to find signs of a sharp wit hiding beneath that angelic face. There was a tartness to Maya that had Brooke realizing that in addition to being an easy-to-work-with client, Maya was also the type of woman that could become a friend.
“Look at these potted plants,” Maya crowed as the climbed the steps to the discreet brownstone that housed the dress shop. “Everything’s so white. The flowers, the pots. I’m surprised they didn’t spray paint the freaking stems. I mean, how dare they be green.”
Brooke snickered. If she was being perfectly honest, she wasn’t overly excited about this particular appointment. The woman on the phone had been perfectly civil—ingratiating, even—but there was a fine line between exclusive and snobby, and her instincts told her that Blanche would be coming out on the latter side of the scale.
Still, Maya was a hotel heiress who’d probably literally used silver spoons growing up—Brooke couldn’t not at least show her the place.
Brooke rang the bell.
“Hello?” The voice that answered managed to sound upscale and refined even through the intercom crackle.
“Hi, Brooke Baldwin here with Maya Tyler for our two o’clock appointment?”
“Let me check the books.”
Brooke saw Maya roll her eyes and smiled. “By all means. Please check them,” she said sweetly.
“Ah yes, here you are. Someone will be right down to greet you.”
The door opened not two seconds later, and Brooke and Maya exchanged a glance at the ridiculous