“Um, okay, that’s just insulting,” Heather said. “I’m nowhere near that blind.”
They all shifted their attention to the birthday girl, who was seated a little ways down the table amid a couple of her friends from college days, discussing her next champagne choice with the server. The waitress looked slightly panicked, probably having realized by now that Alexis knew far more about the menu than she did.
“Do you think she knows that Logan’s in love with her?” Heather asked.
“Honestly? No. I think the man is her one blind spot,” Brooke replied. “And honey . . . trust me when I say you’re going to want to down the rest of your champagne right about now.”
Heather glanced back at Brooke in puzzlement. “Why?”
Brooke’s eyes were locked on the front door. “Because Danica Robinson just walked in here.”
Heather froze. “Seriously?”
“Yup.”
“Has she seen me?”
“Yup.”
“Crap,” Heather muttered, smoothing a hand over her hair even as she reminded herself that it didn’t matter how she looked for Danica Robinson. The woman wanted her for her wedding-planning skills, not her looks.
Still, Heather pasted on a smile all the same as Danica came into view. The other woman looked flawless in a white minidress, her long hair pulled into a high ponytail as she descended on Heather, Brooke, and Leah in a wave of designer perfume and five-inch heels.
“Heather, oh my gosh, hi, you look amazing! What are you doing here?”
Heather stood, feeling like a dork as she did the whole air-kiss thing with her most famous client. A client who’d barely managed to respond to her texts and was now hugging her like they were BFFs.
“Celebrating a friend’s birthday,” Heather said, gesturing at Alexis.
“Oh, Alexis, of course, happy birthday, babe,” Danica said with a dismissive finger waggle at Alexis.
“Guys, of course you’re all familiar with the Wedding Belles,” Danica said, turning toward her group.
A couple of the girls nodded with pasted-on smiles. The guys looked like they could not care less.
Guys, Heather noted, that did not include Danica’s fiancé.
“Anyway, I dragged everyone out tonight for a little break from all things wedding, you know?” Danica said with a wide smile. “But absolutely give me a call tomorrow, I want to hear all about the flowers you mentioned in your voice mail.”
Heather stared at her. Was she for real?
It had been at least a dozen voice mails on the flowers, all of which were left last week before Heather had finally decided to wing it and pick them herself, courtesy of Josh’s tip that Danica hated roses.
Still, what was she supposed to do? She couldn’t very well call out their most famous client for being a deadbeat bride.
But she wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to.
“You guys should see my dress,” Danica gushed to her friends. “It’s gorge.”
Heather blinked. Danica didn’t have a dress. She had yet to so much as show up for a single fitting.
As though she could read Heather’s mind, at that exact moment Danica caught her eye and gave her a little wink as though they were coconspirators.
Heather’s temper snapped, and had it not been for Brooke’s clearing of the throat and the fact that Alexis was giving her a don’t-do-it look, she just might have told Danica Robinson just what she could do with her imaginary dress.
Instead Heather smiled a smile even faker than Danica’s entourage. “Yes, by all means you deserve a break from all the planning,” she said sweetly. “Enjoy your evening, and we can talk tomorrow?”
“Absolutely,” Danica said. “I’ll call you, ’kay? Can’t wait. Ciao, darlings.”
She turned on her heel, lifting a hand to signal her group to follow her before they headed toward a roped-off section in the back of the bar as half a dozen of the bar’s staff scurried after them, armed with champagne buckets.
“Did that just happen?” Heather asked incredulously, gritting her teeth as her hands subconsciously balled into fists.
“Don’t let her get to you, Heather,” Alexis soothed, appearing by her elbow alongside Brooke as they coaxed Heather into sitting back down.