It’s bizarre how true that feels.
“What are you doing here?” I ask as I let go of her.
I gesture for her to sit and I join them at the table, sitting in the chair that Clay has magicked up out of thin air.
She points to the couple opposite us that I’d forgotten all about from the moment I laid eyes on her. “This is my friend Tillie and her husband-to-be, Reece.”
I extend my hand to both of them. I was right. I did smell a wedding after all.
“This is Jackson Matthews,” Katie says, and I can hear the humour in her voice. “And it would seem that he failed to tell me that he owns this place.”
“In my defence, I wasn’t given much of a chance,” I tell her with a smirk.
I can feel the woman named Tillie eyeing me suspiciously.
“So, when did you two get it on?” she asks, her finger pointing back and forth between the two of us.
I eye the woman in front of me curiously.
“Are we ignoring that question?” I ask Katie with a sideways glance.
“We most certainly are,” she replies with a giggle.
Tillie pouts.
“It’s okay, baby, you know you’ll force her to tell you later,” Reece, her husband-to-be reassures her, with a grin on his face.
That seems to perk Tillie up again.
“Anyway… let’s get back to it, shall we?” Katie clears her throat. “These two here are getting married in twelve weeks, because you know, weddings require no planning whatsoever,” Katie tells me, sarcasm thick in her voice.
“And where exactly do I fit into all of this?” I ask. “Catering?”
“We want to rent this place out,” Tillie answers before Katie can.
‘Renting this place out’ isn’t exactly what we do here, but I’m already getting the distinct impression that Tillie won’t give two shits about what we normally do.
“We normally offer an offsite catering and bar service…”
“Nope.” She shakes her head. “I want the reception here.”
“In twelve weeks’ time?” I deadpan.
I hear Katie giggle softly.
Tillie smiles sweetly at me and nods eagerly.
“That’s, ah… that’s a new one,” I say as I rub at the back of my neck awkwardly.
The revenue we collect on a Saturday night – because I assume it’ll be a Saturday — is pretty high. Higher than I’d feel comfortable charging, even for a wedding.
“I told you it wasn’t going to happen,” Katie tells her friend.
“It’s not that it couldn’t work… it’s just the cost involved would be high. Really high.” I wince. “And it would be a tight timeline – you wouldn’t have access until the early hours of the morning, the day of.”
Tillie looks at Reece, who in turn looks at me. “I don’t know how to say this without sounding like an ass… but money isn’t an issue here. If you can make it happen, then we’re in.”
“The entire place… in twelve weeks…?” I ask again in disbelief, just in case I’ve misunderstood in some way.
Tillie looks at me with pleading eyes.
I look over at Katie and she’s looking at me with curiosity in her dark brown eyes, and that’s all it takes to get me to cave. No matter how much of a pain in the ass it’s bound to be, I’ll do it if it means I’ll get to see her again.
“Well, alright then.” I shrug. “Why the hell not?”
I hear Tillie clapping her hands together excitedly, but I can’t take my eyes off Katie. She’s gorgeous, and she’s intriguing.
“I can’t believe you got your way again.” Katie rolls her eyes at Tillie and Reece as they high five each other.
I may have only met these two a few minutes ago, but it doesn’t surprise me. They seem like one hell of a power couple.
“I’ll get you my card,” I tell Tillie as I look around for Clay so I can send him to get one for me.
“You take mine instead,” Katie says, and by the time I look down, there’s a shiny gold card sitting in front of me.
“You’re a wedding planner?”
“She’s not just a wedding planner,” Tillie tells me, “She’s the best wedding planner in town.”
“I’m the craziest wedding planner in town for agreeing to take on the two of you as clients.” Katie laughs.
Tillie smiles sweetly at her. “Oh, that’s cute. You say it like you had a choice.”
I chuckle at their banter. They remind me of me and Bryn.
Clay appears next to me and leans down to speak quietly in my ear. “You’re needed in the bar.”
I nod and turn back to the table. “I’m sorry, duty calls.”
“Send me an email and we’ll sort out some details,” Katie tells me.
I shake my head at her as I get to my feet. “I’ve got a better idea, I’ll take you to dinner and we’ll organise it then.”
She smirks at me. “I don’t think that’s a better idea at all.”
“It’s a fantastic idea. I’ll call you… now that I actually have your number.” I wink at her.
“Let’s just keep this professional, alright, dreamboat?”
“You can call it a business meeting, Katie. I’ll even arrange it in an email if that suits you better… whatever will help you sleep at night.”
She narrows her eyes at me, but I can see a smile pulling at the corners of her lips.
“It was great to meet you both. I’ll see you soon.” I nod at both Tillie and Reece before following Clay out of the dining room.
“Alright, chica, spill,” I hear Tillie demand as I walk away, and I laugh to myself.
Katie’s going to need a fair bit of luck to get through that one.
CHAPTER SIX
Katie
To: Katie North ([email protected])
From: Jackson Matthews ([email protected])
Hey Katie,
I booked us in for dinner at 8pm tomorrow night, next door to my place. Don’t even bother trying to tell me you can’t make it because you’ll only be lying to yourself.
Jackson
To: Jackson Matthews ([email protected])
From: Katie North ([email protected])
Hey dreamboat,
You’re annoyingly persistent, did anyone ever tell you that?
Katie x
To: Katie North ([email protected])
From: Jackson Matthews ([email protected])
Some say I’m as persistent as I am handsome. Am I picking you up or meeting you there?
Jackson
P.S. Do you give everyone a kiss at the end of an email, or is it just me that gets the special treatment?
To: Jackson Matthews ([email protected])
From: Katie North ([email protected])
And modest too…
I like that you just assume I’m saying yes.
Katie (note the no kisses)
To: Katie North ([email protected])
From: Jackson Matthews ([email protected])
You wound me. It’s a business dinner, dimples, you can claim it as an expense and everything.
Jackson xx (note that I’m willing to give kisses, anytime, anywhere)
To: Jackson Matthews ([email protected])
From: Katie North ([email protected])
Don’t you ‘dimples’ me, dreamboat. What do I have to do to get you to leave me alone?
To: Katie North ([email protected])
From: Jackson Matthews ([email protected])
Coming to dinner would be a good start…
To: Jackson Matthews ([email protected])
From: Katie North ([email protected])
Fine. One dinner. And if you try to get into my pants, it’ll be your last meal. And I won’t be claiming it as an expense, because you’ll be paying.
To: Katie North (katie@chasingperf
ectionplanners.com)
From: Jackson Matthews ([email protected])
You women… ALWAYS thinking about sex. Did you know it’s possible for a man and woman to be friends after they’ve slept together?
To: Jackson Matthews ([email protected])
From: Katie North ([email protected])
Now who’s lying to themselves?
To: Katie North ([email protected])
From: Jackson Matthews ([email protected])
We can be friends, dimples. You’ll see.
I’ll see you tomorrow at 8. Since you’re such an independent woman, I’ll meet you there.
Jackson xoxo (even threw some hugs in there because I’m generous like that)
I suck in a deep breath through my nose and blow it out through my mouth.
I can’t deny that I’m a little bit excited by the idea of seeing Jackson again. I don’t want to be, but I am. He’s endearing and charming, and far too good looking.
It’s quite a predicament.
I have a date that’s not actually a date with a man I had a one-morning stand with, and whom I still find incredibly attractive. What could go wrong with that?
***
I step out of the cab at eight on the dot and glance up at the building in front of me.
I smooth down the front of my dress and look around for any sign of Jackson.
I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I’m never nervous for dates, and certainly not for business meetings, which is what this is meant to be, after all.
It could be the fact that Jackson has seen me naked that’s got me on edge, but I don’t want to think too much about that right now.
“Dimples!” I hear his voice and I turn to see him walking out of the busy restaurant that’s right next to his own.
Everything down here on the waterfront is exquisite. Expensive too. Most of the finest dining establishments are down here. Jackson’s place is undoubtedly included in that category.
I didn’t tell him — I didn’t want to risk stroking his ego too much — but I was seriously impressed with the standard last night.
I’d never eaten in ‘The Boat Shed’ before, and I’d only been in for a drink one other time — the night I wound up in his bed — and I didn’t even know he was the owner back then.
The whole place was perfection. I’m not entirely sure how a man can run a business that runs the way his does, yet have a bedroom in the state his was in.
“Dreamboat.” I grin at him as he jogs over to me.
He looks good. He wears his suit like an extension of himself. He’s groomed to perfection and carries an aura of confidence that somehow manages not to cross over into arrogance.
“I was worried you wouldn’t come,” he murmurs as he leans in to hug me, his lips briefly brushing my cheek.
The contact, as quick as it was, still gives me tingles.
“Well, I heard the food is really good here, so I figured I could endure an evening in your company for the sake of the cause,” I offer with a grin and a shrug.
He chuckles and dips his head before holding his hand out to me. “We better get in there then.”
He leads me through the door without a second glance from the big guy out front who is turning people away in droves, past the woman at the front who offers Jackson a flirty smile and earns herself a scowl from me, into the busy dining room and over to a table that’s right next to the glass with the perfect view of the water.
I stare out the window for a moment; it’s absolutely breathtaking.
“Not a bad spot, is it?” Jackson asks as he pulls out my chair for me.
“It’ll do I guess.” I smirk.
It’s the best table in the whole place. I have no idea how he got it on such short notice.
“The owner owed me a favour,” he answers my unasked question as he pours us both a glass of red wine from the bottle that’s on the table.
“Oh yeah?” I ask as I take a sip from the glass he’s offered me.
I almost moan in appreciation. It’s an unbelievable drop.
“Gabriel, the owner, forgot his wedding anniversary last month. I got him a table at the last minute and she was none the wiser to his little slip of the mind.”
“And you called in your return favour for me?” I tsk at him. “Silly… you should have saved it for a hot date.”
His eyes find mine and he stares hard. “You’re the only hot date I’ve had in a long time.”
I swallow deeply, trying to push down the lump in my throat. “Were the others all ugly then?”
He chuckles and the intensity in his eyes dims a fraction.
“There hasn’t been any others. Dating hasn’t really been on my radar.”
I sip my wine again. I don’t know what to say. I’ve only been on one date myself lately, but it wouldn’t have mattered if he’d just admitted to going on one hundred, it’s the intensity I can feel radiating from him that’s got me on edge.
“Why’d you run out on me, Katie?”
It’s not what I expected him to say at all. In fact, I was hoping I might have got away with not talking about it at all.
I clear my throat nervously. “I thought you’d prefer it that way… you had a lot going on. I didn’t want you to have to ask me to leave, so I just made it easier…”
It sounds lame when I say it aloud, but I really meant no harm by walking out that morning. I didn’t do it to hurt or punish him in any way. I just didn’t want him to feel any pressure.
He had enough going on without having to say an awkward goodbye to some girl whose name he barely knew.
“What if I wanted your number?” he presses.
“You weren’t ready for my number. You told me yourself you were still in love with your ex.” I shrug. “Speaking of, how’s that going for you these days?”
“I’d be lying if I said I was over her completely,” he answers honestly.
I give him a look that says ‘my point exactly’.
He grins at me and just like that, he’s back to being the Jackson I recognise. “You know what? I’ve come to the conclusion that we should be friends.”
I sip on my wine again and swirl the glass around as I watch him and his cheeky grin.
“You don’t want to be friends… you want to be friends with benefits.”
He chuckles and leans back in his seat. “Well, now that you mention it, a few benefits never hurt anybody.”
“Not happening.”
“What about if I ask you again in the morning?” He grins suggestively. “I know how much you like things in the morning.”
I roll my eyes. “Friends, dreamboat, that’s it.”
I’m not even entirely convinced that I wouldn’t sleep with him again given half a chance, but my voice sounds far surer of my point than I really am.
He holds up his hands in surrender. “Alright, dimples, friends.”
“Why do I already feel like I’m going to regret this?”
He winks at me mischievously.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jackson
I wave over the waiter and hand him the empty bottle of wine. Our second for the night. “Another of the same,” I tell him.
“Nuh uh.” Katie shakes her head at me. “No more, dreamboat. I’m tapping out.”
She points a finger at the young guy who’s now holding the empty bottle of wine and looking between the two of us to see if he should bring another bottle. “Do not bring us any more,” Katie tells him.
“One more.” I wink at her.
“No more,” she demands.
She turns her attention from me to the waiter, snapping her fingers at him. “Hey, Justin Bieber, we’re done. If Ken doll over here has another one, I’ll end up having to carry him up the stairs again and, quite frankly, he’s heavy.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
She gestures for him to come closer and he leans in. “And between you and me, I’m not sure I can be trusted in hi
s bedroom if I’ve got any more wine in me.”
I chuckle as he nods his head at her rapidly and scuttles off, a big grin on his face.
“Party pooper.” I scowl at her.
“Some of us have to work tomorrow,” she says in a sassy tone.
We’ve both had a few at this point and I know damn well we don’t need any more, but I’m not ready for this evening to be over just yet. I don’t want to have to say goodbye to Katie.
“You want to come next door with me and we can talk about this wedding?”
She raises a brow at me. “Oh, so you did plan to actually do something work related tonight?”
I chuckle. I’m not even going to try and deny that I’ve hijacked this entire evening. I had no intentions of talking work. I would rather talk about her.
“I’ll tell you what, I’ll come next door if you promise to show me a photo of this Lizzie chick.”
I chuckle. This Lizzie chick. “Oh, you mean the woman who ripped out my heart and stomped all over it?”
“If we’re going to be friends, you’re going to have to stop laying it on so thick with the theatrics,” she says with a roll of her eyes.
“You asked.”
“I want to know what she looks like, not that you and your tiny little violin are still pining away for her.”
Mr. February: A One Night Stand Romance (Calendar Boys Book 2) Page 3
