Josh ignored him, setting his phone aside.
He picked it up again two minutes later. Just to text her that he’d be up late if she wanted to come over later.
This time his friend’s silent laughter was too much to ignore. Josh reached into the pizza box and threw an olive at him, but Trevor only brushed it off.
“It’s cool, dude, it’s cool. But, hey, I’m just curious . . . do you think she’s going to plan your wedding for free, or will you have to pay the fee of her fancy wedding-planning company?”
This time it was a handful of olives that hit Trevor’s smirking face.
“We’re just having fun,” Josh repeated.
Then he forced himself not to check his phone the rest of the time Trevor was there.
But he wanted to.
And damn if that didn’t freak him out, just a little.
Chapter Twenty-Two
SHIT. SHIT.” HEATHER RAPIDLY pressed the delete button on her laptop, deleting the entire insipid paragraph she’d written on the benefits of serving eggs Benedict at a bridal brunch. She tried for a deep, cleansing breath as she refocused and began pecking at the keys again. A little after nine o’clock on Monday morning, and Heather was a bundle of nerves.
On the one hand, she had finally gotten what she wanted:
Danica Robinson was on her calendar for an in-person meeting.
On the other hand . . .
Danica Robinson was on her calendar for an in-person meeting.
As in, the first one since their initial consultation, because their strange run-in at the bar absolutely didn’t count.
Which meant that Heather had exactly thirty minutes—it was all Danica would commit to—to run through an entire wedding plan, from rehearsal dinner to bridal brunch.
And she still needed to deliver the not-so-minor bomb that the Plaza was still very much not on the books. She had several other very viable options cued up to try to defuse this bombshell, but she had a very strong sense that Danica wouldn’t give a crap.
Heather had left her office door open, as they were all likely to do except when on the phone, and she was completely unsurprised when her boss appeared in her doorway. She’d certainly been making enough noise.
“You good?” Alexis asked, getting straight to the point.
“Yeah,” Heather said, her eyes remaining fixated on her iPad. “Or no. I don’t know. This whole thing is just not what I dreamed of with my first celebrity wedding, you know? I wasn’t expecting to be Danica’s BFF or anything, but somehow I thought it would be more . . . fun. Hard work, sure. But fun.”
“If it makes you feel any better, you’re not overreacting,” Alexis said, coming into Heather’s small office and sitting in the small side chair beside Heather’s desk. “I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you, and I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”
“Well, hopefully my little come-to-Jesus talk won’t lose us a client,” Heather said with a sigh.
Alexis shrugged. “Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if it did.”
Heather looked up, her mouth dropping open. “I’m sorry. Have you seen Alexis Morgan anywhere? There seems to be a very chill, whatever type of woman lurking inside Alexis’s type A body.”
“Everybody has limits, and Danica is very close to breaching mine,” Alexis said. “I expect my planners to work hard, even put up with some pretty outrageous behavior, but something’s not right here. Danica doesn’t get to be hands-off and demand the Plaza. It’s one or the other. Either all in or all out.”
“Great,” Heather said with a toothy smile. “Let me know how it goes when you tell her that in”—she glanced at her watch—“twenty minutes.”
Alexis gave a slight smile. “You’ve got this. Just keep your voice calm and tell her you want to continue working with her, but you need to better understand what she’s looking for if she wants to get her money’s worth.”
“She’s a gazillionaire,” Heather said. “What if money doesn’t work with her?”
“Then appeal to her ego. The whole ‘help me help you look good,’ and all that. Maybe imply that the dress you’ve picked out that she hasn’t bothered to see might make her look hippy.”