Page 12 of Some Kinda Romance

6

SERENITY

Iwas working on finalizing menus when Dash arrived. He strode into my office wearing another expensive charcoal suit and a light blue button-down underneath. His hair was swept away from his handsome face, neatly styled, and his jaw was once again shaven smooth.

My door had been open, but usually, people at least paused until I looked up before they came in. Or they knocked to get my attention. Dash didn’t do either of those things. He walked in like he owned the place, his honey-colored eyes focused on the view behind my desk.

“Let’s make this quick,” he said, his tone clipped. “I need to get back to work.”

I’d been so absorbed in my own work that I had to blink a few times in order to yank myself out of the zone. “Hello to you too.”

Instead of responding politely, he rolled his eyes and took a seat across from my desk—without being invited to do so—and slid open the buttons on his jacket. His eyes finally came to mine. “What are our options for food?”

Oh, boy. Today is not going to go well.I could already tell that it was going to be another ‘whatever-you-can-do, I-can-do-better’ kind of conversation, but I tried to remain upbeat. Earlier today, while I’d been preparing myself for this meeting, I’d decided to take his attitude as a compliment.

If it was a matter of him thinking he could do everything better, then it meant I was doing well enough to threaten him. To make him think like that.

Holding his gaze intently, I pushed the various menu options across the desk. “Those are examples of our most popular menus. We can mix and match with any of the items available on any of the menus, and of course, if there’s something in particular that you’d like, our chef will be happy to sit down with you.”

Without even glancing at the menus, he narrowed his eyes on mine. “Any chef worth his salt would’ve worked out a menu, perhaps two, of dishes that complement one another.”

I didn’t back down. “My chef is excellent. He’s classically trained, and if you want an eight or nine course sit-down dinner with dishes selected by him that complement one another, then we can do that for you. I can get him up here right now.”

“If that’s the case, why isn’t he already here?”

“Because most people like to look at the menus first. And your mother specifically told Julie that she didn’t want dinner to be an overly formal, uptight affair. If you’re telling me she’s changed her mind, I’ll give the chef a quick call.”

“She hasn’t changed her mind, but this isn’t a backyard hootenanny. Food is an important part of every wedding. You should know that, given your position. It’s the cornerstone of the reception.”

“Sure, but⁠—”

“No,” he said firmly, pushing the menus back across to me. “I don’t need examples of your most popular menus. Clearly, the clientele you’re used to serving are happy with whatever items they feel like smacking together into one meal, but that won’t work for us.”

I drew in a deep breath, trying my best not to let his mood drag me down. “Alright. I’ll print lists of all the different meat options we’ve got. Why don’t we start there? If food is the cornerstone, then the meat is the star. We’ll choose everything else based on that.”

“Have you got any culinary training?” he asked with a haughty tilt of his head. “You and I should not be selecting what goes with what unless you are, in fact, trained to do so. I’m not.”

“Are you going to pick apart everything I say, or are we trying to get somewhere with the planning today?”

He leveled me with a serious gaze. “If you’re taking any of this as a personal attack rather than me trying to get somewhere with the planning, then I’m going to ask you to send in somebody who knows what they’re doing.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

“Excellent.” He leaned forward a little. “Can we please get started then?”

Holy hell. What is his deal? Who pissed in his Lucky Charms this morning?

Getting my hackles up, I shook my head at him. “I could be spending my time with other clients who are high maintenance but not blatantly rude. I agreed to handle the planning of this wedding myself, but if this is how it’s going to be, then perhaps I was misguided. I don’t have time for pissing contests.”

Staring back at me, he slowly arched an eyebrow as a smirk appeared at the corners of his lips. “You know who my mother is. Are you sure you want to blow me off like that? Because if so, go ahead. I’d be happy to plan this whole damn thing myself. The reason you’re involved at all is because my mother wants you to be, not because you’re somehow misguided.”

Ouch.

I wished he was wrong, but he wasn’t. As much as I’d have liked to tell him to go suck a lemon, I wouldn’t let anyone else handle this wedding on my behalf and I sure as hell wouldn’t let him plan it all by himself.

Knowing I’d inadvertently backed myself into a corner, I swallowed my pride. “No, I don’t want to blow you off, but I also won’t let you walk all over me. You’re here as the son of a client and that’s all. Now let’s do this.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” he said evenly. “I’ve spoken to their personal chef as well as to my chef, and they’ve suggested classic cuisine. They both know my mother doesn’t want it to be too uptight. What they’ve recommended is prime beef rib-eye on the bone, rack of lamb, salmon, and roast chicken as the meats.”