Page 46 of The Business of Love Box Set 1: Books 1 - 4

KIMBERLY

H ow many martinis have I had?

I turned the triangle-shaped glass around between my fingers.

Three? Sounds right.

On top of the two glasses of white wine I’d had prior to Tanner’s late arrival.

That was more liquor in one sitting than I’d consumed in a hot minute and I was feeling it.

My cheeks felt puffy, like I’d been at the dentist, and my lips were completely numb.

I was sure my eyes were glazed over, partly because of the booze and partly because my date was an absolute bore-fest.

He’d been talking for the last twenty-five minutes straight without pause. I’d noted the time and hadn’t said a word since.

“My buddy is really fucking funny. Like, you’d think he was pretty funny if you met him.

He makes everyone laugh.” Tanner threw back a big gulp of beer and dragged the back of his hand across his mouth to wipe away the foam.

I suspected the alcohol was hitting him quickly due to all his sun exposure today and his lack of hydration.

“One time—oh my God, this is gold.” He started chuckling before he even began telling the story that I doubted would be funny at all.

“We got real shitfaced at a club in New York and got kicked out for being too rowdy. You know how those upscale places can be. God forbid you ruffle any feathers.”

He continued to ramble on and I heaved a sigh.

Should I order another drink?

It probably wasn’t the best idea. The last thing I needed was to have that one drink too many where Tanner was no longer insufferable. I’d been feeling a little lonely lately and I didn’t want to make a mistake and try to drown that loneliness by taking a nitwit like him back to my hotel room.

I doubted he’d be good in bed anyway. Men like him never were.

And he’d probably still be talking about his buddy, who I assumed was named Chad or some shit, while he was buried not so deep inside me.

I shuddered at the thought. Gross.

My clutch buzzed on the table and I fished my phone out of it.

Tanner didn’t even seem to notice that I was no longer paying him any attention as I peered down at my screen.

It was blurry from all the drinks I’d had.

I picked up my water and downed the entire glass to try to buy myself a bit more sobriety.

The message was from my client, Rick Garrett.

My heart fluttered in my chest. This man was going to be the death of me.

I’d had the hots for him ever since we first met, after he reached out to me for a consultation to see if I would be a good fit for him and his bride-to-be to plan their dream wedding in Waikiki, Honolulu.

I’d tried to keep our contact long distance and avoid having sit-down, in-person meetings with him, but this trip to Hawaii was inevitable, seeing as how we needed to be on site to finalize the last details.

The wedding was just shy of a month and a half away, scheduled for January thirtieth, and I was looking forward to putting Rick and his demanding diva fiancée in my rearview mirror so I could move on and fantasize about eligible men I actually had a shot with.

Because quite frankly, God-like men like Rick had no right to exist. Plain and simple. He’d had way too many genetic and financial victories than any person had a right to. And nothing made an already attractive person sexier than money.

Money bought everything, including access to personal trainers and health professionals that kept him in incredible shape.

Daddy, I thought. Big time daddy.

Tanner slammed his hand on the table and rocked back in his chair with laughter after telling the punchline of his Chad joke. People looked up from their meals and glared at us, and I resisted the urge to hide under the table.

“Tanner,” I said. He didn’t hear me over his own laughter. “ Tanner .”

He blinked away tears of mirth. “What’s up?”

“You’re disturbing other people in the restaurant.”

He looked around and rolled his eyes. “Fuck ‘em. If they wanted peace and quiet, they should have stayed home.”

“Classy.”

I shook my head and looked down at my phone to read the message from Rick as Tanner went off about nosy strangers.

Hey Kimberly,

I just wanted to give you a heads-up that Verity is feeling a little overwhelmed and there might be some details we have to iron out when we meet tomorrow about the venue. Sorry to message you so late with something like this. Hope you’re having a good first night in Waikiki.

I stifled an internal groan.

Of course, Verity wanted to change things about the venue.

The woman was absolutely insufferable. How a man with such dignity, class, and intelligence could fall for a self-absorbed materialistic witch like her, I had no idea.

But it wasn’t my place to understand why my clients were getting married.

That was for them to know. My job was just to give them the wedding they’d always dreamed of.

And Verity had always dreamed of a thirty-million-dollar tropical fairy-tale wedding. Her dress alone did not factor into the thirty-million-dollar budget. It had cost just shy of ten million.

Rick hadn’t even batted an eye. He’d just written the checks.

I couldn’t fathom what it would be like to have that kind of money at my disposal.

I was, however, very much looking forward to the commission check I was going to receive at the end of this.

It would be the biggest revenue-generating wedding of my career, and on top of that, the publicity I was going to get from this would open doors for me I never dreamed I’d be able to walk through.

My clientele was going to shift dramatically.

As long as I pulled this off, of course.

If Verity hated my work, she might ruin my entire career by slamming me publicly.

I sighed and put my phone facedown on the white tablecloth. “And there’s no guarantee that won’t happen.”

“Did you say something?”

I glanced up at Tanner, who was looking at me with red, drunken eyes.

I arched an eyebrow. “I haven’t said anything for the past forty-five minutes.”

Tanner blinked. “What?”

“You’ve been talking plenty for the both of us.

I couldn’t get a word in with you. And you know what, Tanner?

Your stories aren’t funny. They’re stupid.

And boring. Just like you and your friends.

” I stood up. The legs of my chair squeaked on the floor.

“Maybe you should spare women from your company for a little while and just stick to your partying. When you settle down and grow up a little, then you should consider dating. But not until then. Tonight was miserable.”

“Now hold on just a minute.”

“Goodnight, Tanner.”

I turned on my heel and marched away from the table. I caught a couple of women smirking as I passed them and I knew they were my fellow sisters who’d endured the same sort of evening with frat-boy types like Tanner.

I didn’t feel bad about leaving him with the bill, either, which would likely be a hefty amount. Martinis weren’t cheap in this place.

And the wine I’d ordered was thirty-two dollars a glass.

“Sucker.” I snickered as I pushed out the front doors and emerged on the busy Waikiki street.

I hooked a left and made my way toward the nightlife part of the strip.

The sandy beach stretched on along my left, and hotels and businesses ran along the sidewalk across the street on my right.

Street performers filled the night air with lively music and entertainment and I relished in the fresh air and the freedom from my date.

Jackson was definitely going to get an earful when I talked to him next. Where was he getting these assholes from? Tinder?

He’d have to do a better job—if I gave him another chance that was.

Maybe I’m better off on my own for a bit. Maybe all these less-than-mediocre men were a sign from the universe that I was supposed to be single right now so I could focus on this next chapter of my life and career.

Yes, that’s it. Now is the time to focus on me. Not a man.

Loud music poured out of a nightclub down the block. I crossed the street and gravitated to it like a moth to a flame. Alcohol was still coursing through my system and the music breathed life into my veins.

I needed to dance.

I didn’t need a date, but I didn’t hate the idea of finding a good-looking stranger on the dance floor to dance the alcohol out of my system with. Sometimes, there was nothing better than a good night of dancing.

I flashed my ID at the bouncer at the door and descended a set of stairs into the underground club. It smelled like tequila and sweat and cheap body spray. The air was thick and humid and the lighting was moody. Neon stripes traced the ceiling and shifted colors in tempo to the music.

I pushed through the crowd and made my way to the dance floor.

It too lit up in rhythm to the music, and as soon as my heels hit the neon-pink squares, the ickiness of my date melted off my shoulders.

I swayed my hips to match the beat and lifted my arms over my head.

I closed my eyes, tilted my head back, and reveled in the freedom of the bass and the beat.

I didn’t have to wait long for a bold man to approach and put his hands on my waist. He had dark skin, a wondrous smile, and friendly brown eyes, and he nodded his understanding when I told him I was only there to dance.

“I’ve had a pretty shitty night,” I said to him over the music.

He pulled me up against his body and dropped his hips before spinning me around so my back was flush to his chest. He could move. His hips matched the rhythm of mine.

“Let’s fix that,” he said. Then he spun me away from him.

My laugh tore out of me and he grinned in earnest.

“Mahalo,” I said.