Holiday Bridal Wave - Gwyn McNamee Page 0,27

today. His reaction to her. My reaction to his reaction. I saw the spark there. In his eyes. He likes her. Really likes her. I don’t know why it upsets me so much. It’s not like we’re ever going to be together.

But I still felt a little green.

“You’re jealous.”

“What?” I drop my mouth open. “I am not.”

She points a finger at me with a grin. “Yes, you are. You’re jealous because you like him.”

“I do not like him.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, okay. Keep lying to yourself.”

“I’m not.”

Her hand darts out, and she grabs a breadstick, tears off a bite, and chews. “You are. Anyone would be. Archimedes Warren is the most eligible bachelor in New York City. Hell, he’s one of the most eligible bachelors in the world, frankly. You’d be crazy not to like him, especially with as much time as you two spend together and have been during this whole planning thing. And now, he’s bringing you gifts and making sweet gestures. Admit it, Blaire, you like the guy.”

I lean back in my chair and circle my finger around the rim of my glasses as I contemplate her accusation.

Do I?

Of course, I do. How could I not?

Archie can be sweet and generous—and also demanding and annoying—but deep down, he’s a good guy, and we both know that.

But I’m also not naïve enough to think anything can ever happen between us.

“Even if I weren’t his employee, I’m still not Warren-bride material. And it doesn’t matter, anyway. I have a feeling he hit it off with Jessica today.”

“What makes you say that?”

I shrug. “The way he reacted when he saw her. There was a little spark and giggles.”

“Archimedes Warren giggled?”

I groan. “Yeah, sort of.”

“What about when he got back from lunch?”

I cringe and bite my lip. “I, uh, left early today.”

Her eyes widen. “So you wouldn’t have to see him! Oh, girl. You have it bad!”

“Maybe you’re right. But it doesn’t matter.”

“There’s time.”

“Time for what?”

She waves her breadstick at me. “Time for him to come to his senses and realize he should be marrying you.”

I bark out a laugh so loud, all the tables around us turn and glare at me. I hold up a hand in apology. “That’s never going to happen, Brandy.”

Only in my dreams.

She shrugs and leans back in her chair. “I don’t know, Blaire. You’re not just planning the guy’s wedding…you’re planning your wedding. Does he know you’re using your wedding book to get this thing organized?”

I sigh and sip my drink. “No. That would be weird. He doesn’t need to know that. He just needs things to be taken care of with as little involvement as possible. With this deal hanging over him, he doesn’t want to have to make decisions about anything…except the cake.”

Her eyebrow wings up. “The cake?”

I chuckle. “Yes, he told me, in no uncertain terms, that I should pick everything and get it booked without worrying about his input, except for the cake. Apparently, the man is very particular about his desserts and wants to taste-test them all.”

Brandy rolls her eyes. “Typical man—only cares about the food.”

I laugh and finish off my martini. “He cares about a lot of things, Brandy, just not the details of the wedding.”

“But you care. Enough that you put all the elements of your dream wedding into that binder when you were a little girl. You don’t think it’s weird to be using it to plan your boss’ wedding?”

“No,” I shake my head, “he needs the help. And it’s not like I have any marriage prospects on the horizon.”

Archimedes

I take a sip of my bourbon and flip on the television to kill some time before I need to leave. The soft cushions of the couch cocoon me, and if I’m not careful, I may end up passing out.

This week has been so damn exhausting, and it’s not even over yet. There hasn’t been any time to sleep with all that needs to happen to complete the acquisition…and to plan my wedding. Thank God Blaire is handling basically all the ceremony and reception stuff. There isn’t enough time in the day, and even with her help, it’s going to be a mad scramble to make sure everything is taken care of.

Of course, Mother and Grandmother offered their assistance, but they’re already forcing me into a loveless marriage. The last thing I want is their hands in the wedding, too. I’m confident Blaire will arrange a beautiful ceremony my future wife will be happy with. She’s never