Page 44 of The Business of Love Box Set 1: Books 1 - 4

KIMBERLY

T he waves lapped gently at the sand beneath the patio where I sat.

The sun was dipping low over the ocean, painting the Hawaiian sky pink, orange, and purple, and Christmas lights were strung overhead in elegant loops across the white-beamed ceiling.

More lights were wrapped around the balcony railing and I was sure I’d never seen anything quite as beautiful as Christmas lights winking against the backdrop of a Hawaiian sunset.

Of course, it all would have felt a little more magical if my date had been on time and I hadn’t been sitting around like a fool for twenty-five minutes waiting for him to show up.

The servers were getting suspicious that I’d been stood up, so I’d already had to order two drinks so I didn’t feel guilty for hogging a table.

This place was desirable and reservation only.

If my date didn’t show up soon, I’d probably be asked to either order my meal or leave, and I didn’t need that kind of pressure or humiliation in my life.

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.