arms as he placed a hand in the small of my back and guided me toward the door.
He was standing too close.
It wasn’t anything overt but I didn’t like having my personal space invaded—unless I invited a guy to do it.
I tried to ditch the hand as we hit the street but he stepped closer.
Great, that’s all I frikkin’ needed, for the paparazzi to plaster an ugly photo of me across the tabloids. I could see the headlines now: SLOVENLY SLUT OUSTS TITILLATING TARA FROM CUTE CAMERON’S CLUTCHES. Tack-a-rama.
I sidestepped and started walking quickly so he had no hope of getting too close. He fell into step beside me and I sped up, doing a weird half-jog/half-walk so he wouldn’t touch me.
Thankfully, Starbucks wasn’t far and I almost vaulted two teenagers in an effort to grab the last table. A table with seats as far from each other as possible.
“What’ll you have?”
“Cappuccino please.”
“Coming right up.” He touched my arm and I gritted my teeth. What was with the touchy-feely stuff?
Perplexed, I watched him place our order at the counter. I wasn’t picking up flirting vibes from him but the standing too close and the hand touching? Weird.
Last thing I needed was to get him offside, what with his wedding being my biggest coup yet. If I pulled off the perfect Lovell wedding, I’d be renowned in Sydney as the hostess-with-the-mostest. But if he kept touching me, I’d deck him, wedding or not.
“Here you go.”
He deposited my cappa on the table and to my horror he pulled his chair opposite to line up alongside mine.
“By the file on your desk, I take it you’re the whiz organizing Tara’s extravaganza.”
Not my wedding but Tara’s extravaganza . By the tone of his voice, he sounded like he’d rather skinny dip in a shark tank than get married.
“It’s your wedding too,” I said, hoping my instincts were wrong. Was Cam getting cold feet? Goodbye commission, goodbye wedding planner of the century.
“You think?” His bitterness confirmed it. I’d need to do some serious damage control.
“Don’t tell me I’m putting in all these extra hours for nothing.” I aimed for levity, hoping he’d divulge what the hell was going on.
“I’ll have to make sure you’re suitably compensated.” He sipped at his coffee, staring at me over the rim of the cup, and I resisted the urge to squirm. “You have great eyes.”
Uh-oh. He’d entered into murky flirty territory.
“Thanks.” I glanced away before he saw my distaste. “So, what’s this advice you need?”
“It’s about the wedding.” He placed his cappuccino on the table. “How far has the agency got with the planning?”
“We’re almost done. All that’s left is flowers and finalizing seating arrangements once the last RSVPs come in.”
“Great.”
By his frown, it wasn’t.
“Is something wrong—?”
“I want out.”
With those three little words, my heart sank.
Bye-bye promotion. Sayonara massive bonus.
Playing it cool, I tipped a sugar into my coffee and stirred. “Of the wedding or the relationship?”
“Both.”
“I see.”
I didn’t. Why had the richest guy in the country waited until now to ditch his fiancée and cancel the wedding?
“That’s what I wanted to talk to the agency about, off the record.” He shook his head. “How difficult is it to stop proceedings at this late stage?”
“You’ll have to talk to our CEO—”
“I’d rather not.” Considering Amanda was his ex, I wasn’t surprised. “Mandy and I don’t get on too well these days.”
I had a sneaking suspicion that would change once she heard her old flame was up for grabs again.
“I can liaise with her, sort out the technicalities.” Though my head ached just thinking about what was involved in cancelling a wedding of this magnitude. “And we’ll need Tara’s agreement to stop proceedings before we can do anything.”
“Not a problem.”
By his pallor, it would be.
He placed his hand on top of mine
He was standing too close.
It wasn’t anything overt but I didn’t like having my personal space invaded—unless I invited a guy to do it.
I tried to ditch the hand as we hit the street but he stepped closer.
Great, that’s all I frikkin’ needed, for the paparazzi to plaster an ugly photo of me across the tabloids. I could see the headlines now: SLOVENLY SLUT OUSTS TITILLATING TARA FROM CUTE CAMERON’S CLUTCHES. Tack-a-rama.
I sidestepped and started walking quickly so he had no hope of getting too close. He fell into step beside me and I sped up, doing a weird half-jog/half-walk so he wouldn’t touch me.
Thankfully, Starbucks wasn’t far and I almost vaulted two teenagers in an effort to grab the last table. A table with seats as far from each other as possible.
“What’ll you have?”
“Cappuccino please.”
“Coming right up.” He touched my arm and I gritted my teeth. What was with the touchy-feely stuff?
Perplexed, I watched him place our order at the counter. I wasn’t picking up flirting vibes from him but the standing too close and the hand touching? Weird.
Last thing I needed was to get him offside, what with his wedding being my biggest coup yet. If I pulled off the perfect Lovell wedding, I’d be renowned in Sydney as the hostess-with-the-mostest. But if he kept touching me, I’d deck him, wedding or not.
“Here you go.”
He deposited my cappa on the table and to my horror he pulled his chair opposite to line up alongside mine.
“By the file on your desk, I take it you’re the whiz organizing Tara’s extravaganza.”
Not my wedding but Tara’s extravaganza . By the tone of his voice, he sounded like he’d rather skinny dip in a shark tank than get married.
“It’s your wedding too,” I said, hoping my instincts were wrong. Was Cam getting cold feet? Goodbye commission, goodbye wedding planner of the century.
“You think?” His bitterness confirmed it. I’d need to do some serious damage control.
“Don’t tell me I’m putting in all these extra hours for nothing.” I aimed for levity, hoping he’d divulge what the hell was going on.
“I’ll have to make sure you’re suitably compensated.” He sipped at his coffee, staring at me over the rim of the cup, and I resisted the urge to squirm. “You have great eyes.”
Uh-oh. He’d entered into murky flirty territory.
“Thanks.” I glanced away before he saw my distaste. “So, what’s this advice you need?”
“It’s about the wedding.” He placed his cappuccino on the table. “How far has the agency got with the planning?”
“We’re almost done. All that’s left is flowers and finalizing seating arrangements once the last RSVPs come in.”
“Great.”
By his frown, it wasn’t.
“Is something wrong—?”
“I want out.”
With those three little words, my heart sank.
Bye-bye promotion. Sayonara massive bonus.
Playing it cool, I tipped a sugar into my coffee and stirred. “Of the wedding or the relationship?”
“Both.”
“I see.”
I didn’t. Why had the richest guy in the country waited until now to ditch his fiancée and cancel the wedding?
“That’s what I wanted to talk to the agency about, off the record.” He shook his head. “How difficult is it to stop proceedings at this late stage?”
“You’ll have to talk to our CEO—”
“I’d rather not.” Considering Amanda was his ex, I wasn’t surprised. “Mandy and I don’t get on too well these days.”
I had a sneaking suspicion that would change once she heard her old flame was up for grabs again.
“I can liaise with her, sort out the technicalities.” Though my head ached just thinking about what was involved in cancelling a wedding of this magnitude. “And we’ll need Tara’s agreement to stop proceedings before we can do anything.”
“Not a problem.”
By his pallor, it would be.
He placed his hand on top of mine
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