Go figure.
"He most certainly did," Kera said, smiling. "He took a squeeze, too. I knew he'd cave in and go for it sooner or later. I feel his gaze on me every time I walk by him."
"We're talking about the guy who hasn't taken off his sweater vest since the great heat wave four years ago, right?"
"That's the one."
"He squeezed your ass? Really?" I still couldn't picture it.
"Well, maybe I turned around and asked him to do it," Kera said with a smile.
I chuckled again. "You're incorrigible, you know that?"
"Absolutely." Kera's grin widened. "Mel must be rubbing off on me." She sighed, losing a little of her humor. "If George doesn't ask me out soon, I'll have to ask him out."
"You're that interested?"
"Well, yeah. I like the way he looks at me. More than that, I realized that I like the way I feel when he looks at me."
I knew her, knew what she was really saying. She wanted a man who made her feel worshipped. She deserved it; so did every woman, for that matter. Was something like that possible, though? I didn't think so. I'd never seen it. Even the most passionate of marriages usually ended in divorce. The hotter the spark, the quicker it died, right?
With that cheerful thought, I decided it was time to get down to business. "How's your schedule looking for the third weekend in September?" I asked.
"Open, why?"
"I want you to cater Linda Powell's party. I already have Royce's approval."
"Cool." Thoughtful, she twirled a strand of hair around her finger. "You know, in the last six months, I've had more business than my parents ever did. And they ran this place for twenty years."
"It's because you're the best caterer in town." When she wasn't trying new, exotic recipes, that is.
"No." She shook her head. "It's because you send all your customers my way."
"And they love me for it. You've never disappointed." I reached into my briefcase, withdrew three sheets of paper, saw that one was the application packet for Royce's bride, and hurriedly shoved it back inside. Cheeks heating, I handed the correct papers to Kera. "Here's a list of possible themes, as well as a list of acceptable food items. You'll notice the Powells are very adamant in their desire for plain fare," I added quickly.
Her features fell, giving her expression a cute little pout. "Are you sure? I've got a new recipe-"
"I'm sure!"
She shrugged her shoulders daintily. "There's no accounting for taste," she said, her gaze traveling over the list. "You and Royce are considering going with a jewelry-box theme?"
"Considering, yes. Royce says it's the one thing his mother loves." I paused, hesitant. "Do you like it?"
"No, I don't like it. I love it," she said, making me smile in relief. Her features brightened, illuminating the angelic roundness of her face. "Perhaps I can make hors d'oeuvres that look like necklaces and earrings."
I nodded my approval. "That's the spirit, though we're not one-hundred-percent settled on that theme yet. Give me a couple of days to firm it up."
Kera folded the papers and stuffed them in her apron pocket. "I hate to change the subject back to the one you want to avoid, but I'm dying to ask. Have you filled out an application to become Mrs. Royce Powell yet?"
"No." I glanced away from her. "Of course not."
"Do you plan to?"
"What kind of question is that? Absolutely not."
"Then why do you have one in your bag?"
My cheeks heated so much I might have set off a fire alarm had one been nearby. Damn it, I hadn't wanted anyone to see the application Elvira had given me-but I hadn't had the strength to throw it away. "Royce's assistant gave it to me by mistake, that's all."
Watchful, searching, she made a tsking sound under her tongue. "You kept it when you could have thrown it away. Why did you keep it, Naomi?"
As if I wanted to analyze myself that deeply. I didn't know why I was having trouble parting with the stupid thing, and I didn't want to know. The answer might scare me. Perhaps that meant I was the kind of person who pulled the covers over my head if I heard a strange noise in the middle of the night instead of calling 911, but I didn't care.
My cell phone chose that moment to burst forth with a string of high-pitched rings, saving me from having to answer her. God bless technology.
"Hang on a sec," I said, leaning down and unsnapping the front flap of my case. I withdrew my phone and placed it at my ear. "Events by Naomi."
"Where are you?" an angry male voice ground out. "I tried you at home. Many times. Obviously you weren't there."
Recognition came instantly, as did the tingling surge of excitement. The warm rush of desire. Royce.
"I'm at Cinderella Catering," I told him, commanding my heart rate to slow. "Good news. They've agreed to cater the party."
"What are you doing there? You were supposed to meet me for lunch. Have you forgotten?"
"No." Frowning, I glanced up at Kera, who was watching me with unconcealed interest. "We met yesterday instead. I thought-"
"So don't think. We met yesterday in addition to our lunch today. I expect you to be at my office in ten minutes."
"But I-"
"Ten minutes, Naomi."
"Will you just listen to-" I needn't have bothered trying to explain myself. The other line had already clicked, signaling its abrupt disconnection.
My teeth ground together in annoyance, anticipation and disgust at my reaction to simply hearing his voice. I threw the phone back in my briefcase, wishing it were Royce's head so I could toss it to the ground and stomp on it. Maybe even give it a hard kick between the eyes (while wearing steel-toed boots) for good measure.
I liked to think it took great lengths to shatter my composure. (Hey, there's nothing wrong with lying to oneself.) Yet it seemed as if Royce had only to open his mouth and my patience immediately flew out the window. Damn Triple C.
I directed a disgruntled look to my cousin. "I've got to run. Duty calls."
Her features were lit with interest. "Bachelor of the Year?"
"None other," I said with a grimace.
"So you met with him yesterday, hmm?" She crossed her arms over her chest and stared over at me, eyes narrowed. Her lips twitched, ruining her efforts to appear angry.
"Yes. I met with him." I offered no more.
"I don't recall hearing anything about this."
Giving Kera a quick hug, I said, "Should we have your ears tested, then?"
"You better spill the details tonight. Try to clam up and I'll sic Mel on you."
I gave a mock shudder. "What a cruel, cruel woman you're becoming."
"Hey," she said, eyes twinkling with the same wicked glint Mel's sometimes had, "you didn't happen to bring your green handcuffs, did you? Mel will be disappointed if you don't use them soon."
"No, I didn't bring them." Thank God. "I didn't know I'd be seeing Royce today."
"Keep them in your briefcase. That way, you'll always be prepared."
My brows arched as I pretended confusion. "Think I'll need to perform a citizen's arrest for his bad attitude?"
She snorted. "Hello, you can cuff him to his desk and have your naughty way with him."
I had to completely blank my mind before delicious images invaded. Images of Royce lying on his desk and me crawling over him, running my tongue over every inch and hollow. Damn it!
Gathering my composure, I stepped outside, throwing over my shoulder, "I'll see you tonight." As the door closed, I glanced at my wristwatch. I only had nine minutes and five seconds to get to Royce's building.
Realizing it would be faster to cut through the city streets on foot rather than let a cab maneuver through traffic, I raced down the pavement. My slightly heeled brown shoes thumped against the ground. The sound echoed loudly in my ears. Why was I rushing around like an idiot?