All Tied Up (Business of Love Book 2) Page 2

  I drummed my fingers on the white tablecloth and heaved a dramatic sigh.

  How did I keep ending up on lackluster dates like this?

  Jackson, I thought sourly. Why did I keep letting him set me up on dates? He was batting zero out of three, and each man he’d paired me with was even more disappointing than the last. Which didn’t speak highly for this newest Romeo who was already nearly a half hour late.

  I could only imagine what sort of fool I was going to have to endure dinner with this evening. If he showed up at all, of course.

  I peered around the restaurant and couldn’t help but feel like I was being watched. Sitting alone in a nice place like this always made me uncomfortable. So I picked up my small clutch from where it rested at the edge of the table and fished out my phone to call my best friend in the world, Vanessa.

  My girl answered on the third ring. “Hey!” Her voice sounded like sunshine. “How are you?”

  “I’m good. How are you? How are you feeling? Is the baby still kicking the holy hell out of you?”

  “Yes,” Vanessa said bitterly. “But Rhys gave me a back and foot massage earlier so that helps.”

  I groaned. “Why can’t I get myself a man like him?”

  “You will. I promise. You just have to be patient. He’ll come when you’re not looking for him.”

  I frowned. “That’s what people say to desperate women, Vanny. Just to clarify, I’m not desperate. It would just be nice to have someone to come home to. Or rub my feet. I wear heels all the time and my feet are not what they used to be.”

  “So stop wearing heels.”

  “Please.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “For some reason, brides take me less seriously when I show up in flats.”

  “That’s because most of your brides are spoiled rich bitches who don’t understand the words ‘comfort’ or ‘practical.’”

  “You’re not wrong.”

  “Hang on,” Vanessa said. I could hear the frown she was probably wearing. “Aren’t you supposed to be on your date right now?”

  “Oh. Yes. I am on it. But I’m solo. Mr. Charming has yet to arrive and he is officially thirty minutes late.”

  Vanessa sighed. “You have the worst luck, you know that?”

  “Believe me, I do.” I slumped back in my chair and nudged the bottom of my wine glass with my forefinger. “Anyway, I’ll be back in Nashville in one week. Let me know when you’re free to get together so we can finalize a couple things for your baby shower. I have some fun ideas I want to show you.”

  Vanessa was quiet for a second. “Are you sure you’re still okay with planning this, Kim?”

  “Of course, I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Well, you have a lot on your plate right now. This big-money client you have is pretty demanding—at least his fiancée is—and I don’t want to get in the way of the biggest job you’ve ever had. I mean, this wedding is going to be all over the media.”

  “Pfft. There is no client in the world who is important enough to make me not want to plan my best friend’s baby shower. Are you kidding? I’ve been looking forward to this since you told me you were pregnant, Vanny. Besides, I pretty much have the whole shower planned. I just need you to look over some last-minute details.”

  “Well, if you’re sure.”

  “Vanny, I am. I promise. You can’t take this away from me. Planning is what I do best and my best friend deserves the best.”

  Vanessa let out a little giggle. “Okay good. Because I don’t know what I’d have done if you needed to back out.”

  I laughed. “Oh my gosh. I miss you.”

  “I miss you too.”

  “When I get home, let’s drink lots of caffeine-free tea and eat those wafer cookies you like so much lately. I’ll bring my nail-polish collection over and paint your toes too. Since you can’t reach them.” I snickered.

  Vanessa proceeded to tell me off, but I was distracted by a tall blond surfer-looking guy making his way between tables in the restaurant to the patio where I sat.

  “Uh, sorry, Vanny, I have to go. Mr. Charming just arrived.”

  “Is he handsome?” she asked.

  “Yes. But I might change my mind once he opens his mouth.”

  “Good luck.”

  I hung up the call and slid my phone back into my clutch as he approached. He was quite tall, probably six feet and a couple inches. He was nicely dressed in a light blue polo shirt and khaki pants and loafers. Very preppy but it suited him. He held one hand behind his back as he approached. His eyes were as blue as the ocean and he smiled when he drew up to my table.

  “You must be Kim?”

  I nodded. “And you must be Tanner?”

  He grinned. His teeth were exceptionally white, and I had to admit, he had a charming smile. “That’s me. I’m really sorry for being late. I know this isn’t the right foot to start a date on. And if you’d rather I leave and call it a night, I would understand.”

  I put the toe of my heel on the seat of the chair across from me and pushed it out. “Sit.”

  “So you’re beautiful and gracious,” Tanner said. “Noted.”

  “And you’re tardy and cheesy,” I mused. “Noted.”

  He laughed. It was a contagious sound that rolled across the patio. Then he pulled a bouquet of flowers from behind his back and held it to me. They had white petals and a yellow center, with little shoots of green jutting out of them that were dusted in pollen.

  I pulled back. “Tanner, I’m sorry. I’m actually allergic to flowers.”

  Tanner frowned. The flowers hovered between us, the stems pinched in his fist. “Aren’t you a wedding planner?”

  I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. The amount of men who were dumbfounded when I told them I was a wedding planner and allergic to flowers was staggering. As if it was impossible for the two things to go hand in hand.

  But I knew a dog trainer who was allergic to dogs.

  Crazier things had happened.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I appreciate the gesture and the thought but—” I broke off, turned away, and sneezed into my elbow. My eyes were already starting to itch. It wasn’t easy being allergic to flowers. They were everywhere, especially in Hawaii. And the summer months in Nashville were no treat, either. I always had allergy medication on hand, which I presently fished out of my clutch and washed down with a sip of iced water. “Sorry,” I muttered again.

  Tanner’s hand fell to his side and the flowers pointed down toward the patio. “That makes no sense.”

  “Believe me, if I was given the choice, I wouldn’t have chosen to be allergic to flowers.” It was hard to keep the irritated edge out of my voice. “I’m sorry but you’ll have to get them away from me or—or—”

  Another round of sneezing broke over me. It was difficult to maintain the illusion of being a sophisticated and charming woman when your nose was plugged and bright red and you couldn’t pronounce words with D sounds in them because you were so congested.

  Tanner looked at the flowers. “That’s too bad. These weren’t cheap.”

  Great. Another asshole who thinks his gift is more important than me being able to breathe through my nose.

  Tanner heaved a sigh, then turned around, where he spotted a middle-aged couple holding hands across their dinner table. He approached them and offered the flowers to the woman, who accepted with a gracious but confused smile. I heard him tell them his date was allergic and he didn’t want them to go to waste.

  After he took a seat and tucked into the table, a glass of whiskey on the rocks arrived, courtesy of the happy couple who appreciated his gesture.

  “That was kind of you,” I said, trying to see the good in his action so I could let go of my irritation.

  He shrugged and sipped his whiskey. “At least someone can enjoy them.”

  It felt like an underhanded comment. I resigned myself to my fate.

  Jackson had officially struck zero out of four.


  “Again,” Tanner said, “I apologize for being late this evening. I’ve never done that before and I’m kind of embarrassed.”

  “It happens.”

  “If I had a good reason, I might agree with you.”

  I arched an eyebrow and smiled at him. At least he was being honest in a disarming sort of way. “Do you want me to ask you why you were late?”

  He chuckled. “Well, I don’t have a good story for you. I fell asleep on a pool chair at my hotel this afternoon. You should see the sunburn on my chest. I look like a tomato. My buddies never woke me up. We’d been drinking the night before, you see. We got real liquored up and kind of stupid and I needed to sleep it off. But the sunburn is pretty bad. Just wearing this shirt is uncomfortable.” He leaned on the table and I noticed that there were bits of red skin poking out from the sleeves of his polo shirt. He waggled his eyebrows at me. “Maybe later you’ll get to see just how red it is.”

  Ew.

  I flagged down a waiter and ordered a martini. I was going to need something stronger than white wine to get through an evening with this lobster.

  Chapter 3

  Rick

  The Plumeria was a staggering and luxurious hotel right on the beach about a mile outside of Waikiki. Its stucco walls were a muted blush shade and the design was traditional Hawaiian meets country beach house. Big sprawling spaces opened up onto lush verandas with colorful gardens and reflective fountains. The open-concept flow was enhanced by floor-to-ceiling white-trimmed windows and bay doors that led from one room to another, and it was through these style of doors that we passed in the lobby to check in for our stay.

  Chessie tugged at the end of my jacket as we passed through the main atrium. “Daddy. Daddy, look!”

  I knew what she was looking at.

  In the middle of the atrium was a glass pillar full of water. It was as high as the ceiling which fanned out from the pillar at least twenty feet above our heads. Inside the pillar was a coral structure in shades of pink, purple, and green, and dozens of fish flitted around inside.

  “Pretty cool, huh?” I took Chessie’s hand and gave it a squeeze. Her fingernails were neon blue, and much to her delight, the salon was able to paint little silver dolphins on her thumbnails. She wanted them on every finger but the nail tech explained that her fingernails were too small.

  Chessie couldn’t take her eyes off the aquarium as we strode past it toward the check-in counters.

  Verity’s heels clipped against the glossy tile floors that were the color of sand. “The pictures made this place look more impressive.”

  I glanced at my fiancée. “You don’t think this is impressive?”

  Verity chewed the inside of her cheek and peered around. She didn’t answer my question. Instead, she heaved a sigh and crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t they have a preferred guest line?”

  There was one couple checking in ahead of us. The man had his arm wrapped around the woman’s waist and both of them were wearing Hawaiian leis around their necks. The woman working the check-in counter was going over a property map with them.

  “I think they’re almost finished,” I said. “Patience, sweetheart.”

  Chessie beamed up at us. “The best things are worth waiting for. Right, Daddy?”

  “Right, kiddo.” I put a hand on Chessie’s shoulder and flashed a smile at my fiancée.

  Verity didn’t seem to appreciate our sentiments. Admittedly, patience had never been her strong suit. Verity was a woman of action, and when she wanted something, she wanted it then and there. I knew she was stressed about the wedding and she wasn’t a good flyer—travel made her anxious—and I was sure she just wanted to get to the room and relax for a minute.

  When the couple left the check-in counter, we moved up. We were presented with leis. Verity declined hers but Chessie and I accepted, and I proceeded to supply my full name for the room.

  “Ah yes,” the young woman smiled at us from behind the counter. “We’ve been waiting for you, Mr. Garrett. Your room, the luxury lanai penthouse suite, is ready for you. Please leave your luggage here with me and I’ll have it sent up for you. Would you like anything else sent up to the room?”

  “A drink,” Verity said.

  “Absolutely. We have a refreshing mojito with Plumeria-exclusive rum if you would like—”

  “Just a vodka soda with lemon,” Verity said. “You know we’re coming back for our wedding, right? Are there any free upgrades available to us?”

  “Verity,” I muttered.

  She looked sharply at me. “What? I’m just asking. You spent good money here, and if there are perks, we are entitled to them.”

  I rolled my shoulders uncomfortably and offered the clerk an apologetic smile.

  She didn’t seem bothered by the request. She flashed my fiancée a brilliant smile and clasped her hands together on the counter. “I can see what I can attend to for you. You are in the highest-class suite in the hotel and therefore have access to amenities most other guests don’t have. I will make sure you are sent up a bottle of our most expensive champagne as well as some fresh fruit to kick things off while I make other arrangements to ensure your stay is exceptional at The Plumeria.”

  “We appreciate that,” I said.

  The clerk typed something into her computer, most likely a note that we were entitled customers making special demands when we already had the best room in the whole hotel. I grimaced internally.

  The clerk looked down at Chessie. “Since we’re having a drink sent up, would you like anything?”

  I turned to Chessie. “Do you want a drink, kiddo?”

  Chessie blinked up at me. “Um. I don’t know.”

  I smiled at the check-in clerk. “How about a virgin Pina Colada for her and one of those mojitos for me?”

  “Sounds good, sir.” The clerk provided us with our room keys and a resort map and then sent us on our way to the elevators, where we rode up to the top floor to seek out our penthouse.

  By the time we reached our door, which we accessed via an outdoor balcony overlooking the ocean and gardens below, the sun was setting on the horizon and painting the sky pink and purple. Verity slid her key card through the slot in the door and pushed the door open. She complained that it was heavy, so I held it open for her. Chessie squeezed between me and the door and exploded into the room.

  “Whoa,” Chessie cried as she raced into the suite. “This place is huge!”

  She wasn’t wrong. The suite was a glamorous yet sleek accommodation all at once. The living space was open with modern furniture in muted colors. Nothing competed for attention in the space and the flow felt organic and luxurious. The living room opened up onto a huge private patio complete with an outdoor seating area around a glass fire pit, hot tub, and plunge pool.

  Chessie pressed herself up against the glass sliding doors. “This. Is. So. Cool!”

  I chuckled and pointed through an open doorway off the living room. “Check out that room, kiddo. It’s all yours.”

  “Mine?”

  “Yep.”

  Chessie pushed off the glass, leaving handprints in her wake, and raced through the living room and into her bedroom complete with her own bathroom. I heard her delighted squeals as she discovered the gift I’d had delivered for her before we arrived: a new doll complete with her own house and car. I knew it was a little much, especially considering how many toys Chessie had back home, but Verity and I would be spending a lot of time out of the room tending to finalizing wedding details and I didn’t want Chessie to be bored. Her nanny, Jennifer, would be flying in tomorrow to watch her and take her to the pools while Verity and I handled the grown-up stuff.

  Perhaps the gifts were my way of dealing with the guilt of taking my daughter to Hawaii and not being able to spend much time with her.

  Our luggage and drinks arrived shortly after we got into our room. Chessie came out to grab her drink and promptly returned to her new doll, and I brought the other drinks outside onto the pa
tio where Verity stood with her back to me.

  She’d already taken her shoes off. They sat on the white patio about a foot away, one heel tipped over and the other standing straight up. Verity ran her left foot up her right calf and leaned forward on the railing. I saw her ribcage expand as she drew a deep breath and then exhaled.

  “Hey,” I said.

  She didn’t look over her shoulder. “Hey.”

  I approached the railing. “Here.”

  I handed her drink to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders as we gazed out at the ocean and the grounds below. Verity sipped her drink and licked her lips as she grimaced. “That’s really strong.”

  “Should’ve gotten the mojito.”

  “I don’t need the calories.”

  “I think they have the same amount of calories, baby.”

  Verity scowled into her drink and set it down. “I’m sorry, Rick. I’m just… I don’t know. This isn’t what I expected. I had a different picture in my head based on the pictures Kim showed us.”

  I frowned. From where I was standing, the hotel was a spot-on match to the pictures Kim had showed us. “Do you not like it?”

  “It feels too simple.”

  “Simple?”

  How was any of it simple? The room alone had cost a fortune, and the wedding? Well, that was a hefty price I’d struggled to comprehend. But it didn’t matter. I’d pay it ten times over if it made my bride happy. She was the one who’d been dreaming about this day her entire life, not me. I’d done this once before and it ended in flames. I would do whatever it took to make my woman happy. She deserved nothing less than that.

  Verity turned to me and pressed her hands to my chest. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but I want this to be perfect, you know? We only get one wedding night and I want it to match what I picture in my head when I close my eyes. I have my perfect man. Can you blame a girl for wanting the perfect day to go along with it?”

  “Never,” I said softly. Then I cupped her cheek in one hand and pressed a soft kiss to her full lips. She tasted like vodka and lemons. “We won’t settle, baby. Everything will be just as you want it to be when you walk down the aisle. I promise.”