Page 51 of The Plus One Professional
“Tonight went well, I think.” Her voice was much higher than usual, indicating she was nervous.
Maybe she was nervous to be alone with me, after I’d just kissed her.
“It did,” I agreed as the door shut behind me.
As soon as the click sounded, she turned around to face me. “So, is that…um, the kissing, is that part of the service?”
“Sometimes, I do kiss clients if the situation calls for it. But that’s not why I kissed you tonight.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “It’s not?”
“No.”
“Why did you kiss me?”
“I kissed you for two reasons.”
“Two?” she repeated.
I nodded. “I kissed you because Simon was coming over, and I wanted him to know that we were together.”
“Oh.” Her expression was unreadable. I wasn’t sure if she was upset or happy that I’d done what I’d done, partly because of her ex. “And what was the other reason?”
“The other reason is that I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first time I saw you.”
“You have?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
She clearly had no idea of her appeal. It was endearing and yet frustrating. I wanted her to know just how incredible she was. “You were being screamed at by a bride who was having a meltdown. I think her bouquet had the wrong flowers, or no, I think they were the wrong color.”
“Georgina, right. The roses were supposed to be blush, and they were pink.”
“Aren’t blush and pink the same color?” Not that I was someone who should be commenting on the variations of colors.
“No. Blush is just a hint, and pink is a slap in the face.”
“Right, well, anyway, she lost it on you. You kept your calm, apologized for the mistake, even though I’m sure it was not your fault, and when she walked away, the caterer came up and tried to commiserate over what a bridezilla she was, and you defended her. You said that the order was wrong, and this was her day, so everything should be perfect.”
“That made you want to kiss me?”
“Yes.”
Her brow furrowed. “That wedding was…over a year ago. I can’t believe you remember that.”
You have no idea.“I remember everything.”
She chuckled as if I was kidding. I wasn’t.
“Do you know how many weddings we’ve been at together?”
“Six?”
I could tell she was guessing.
“Ten.”
