Blake

He rubbed his powerful jaw while standing before the gigantic monitor. Then Donald was at his side, followed by more of his employees.

“You’re trending,” someone said.

“And our site just monopolized the top spot!” Another person jumped up.

“Oh, I’m going to post.” Zach plunked down into his thick-leather chair and turned toward his monitors. “Don’t have the slightest idea where you should marry, but you should have In-N-Out Burger cater your wedding, I’ve always wanted to attend a wedding where a great cheeseburger was on the menu.”

Blake pulled out his cell phone and headed for his office. He speed-dialed Parker. She answered mid-first ring.

One for business, Parker commenced the conversation. “Mila agreed with me, so I cannot be fired.”

His mouth barely moved. “That is where you’re fucking wrong, Parker, you can be fired.”

“I suppose. Well, this isn’t the first time you’ve fired me.” She sighed. “This time, might I suggest you take a timeout first? Get ready for your meeting with the new wedding consultant, and then you can fire me later—if you feel that’s necessary.”

He glanced at his watch. Parker was correct. It was time for him to leave for the day. “Wait, how do you know about this meeting?”

“I just had lunch with Mila. I hear the dress is gorgeous by the way. Now, don’t be late or you’ll be in even more trouble than I am now.” Parker hung up.

Blake shook his head. His public relations representative was a grab the bull by the horns, meat eating, bulldog. The media was sharks, so she had to be too.

***

Blake stood at the curb of the Delacroix Hotel. It had one of the poshest lounges in all of Beverly Hills. He noticed one of his cars. Its windows were tinted. He nodded to the driver, who was about to get out of the car. He then opened the back door to see Mila fiddling with her cell phone.

“Just a second,” she murmured, so engrossed with whatever she was viewing that she had yet to notice him.

Blake cleared his throat.

“Oh, Blake, sorry, baby.” Mila grinned brightly. She took his hand and got out of the car. Her arms went around his and, even in high heels, she had to lift up somewhat on her tippy toes. Mila’s mouth locked onto Blake’s in a succulent kiss.

“Wow, that was the kind of kiss that knocks people off their feet. Do I perceive a threat?” With a smile, Blake nudged his chin to her phone, as he placed an arm around her. Mila bumped her hip against his.

“No, I just glanced over about a gazillion places to marry. Peckforton Castle in Cheshire, England, the Meadowood Napa Valley Resort, there was this quaint B&B—” She stopped walking. “Not flashy, but dreamy for our small wedding.”

“I agreed to a small guest list, Mila. I’m glad you’re having fun.”

She started walking again. “We better hurry. I was told that the wedding planner has Beyoncé and Jay-Z's top-secret wedding under his belt. But you didn’t hear that from me.” She winked.

His fingers claimed the small of Mila’s back, and he pulled her into another kiss. This time his teeth grazed along her bottom lip, sending prickles of desire through her body.

“Mmmm.” She sighed. “Now, that’s a kiss that makes me forget. Like forget exactly what we are doing?”

“Let me try again, I was going for you forgetting everything but my name,” he said, pulling her into his arms for another round. Their mouths were soft, pressing against each other. His tongue pushed into her mouth like he was tasting the hollow between her thighs. Her tongue wrapped around his like she was licking the thickness of his shaft.

When Blake let go, he continued to hold the small of her back to steady her from falling. This time, a shallow breath shook through her body. Mila blinked and moaned. “Damn, I forgot my ABCs . . .”

“Good. But let me remind you that I don’t hurry for anyone,” he said. “Well, that is until I met you.”

The truth brought a bubble of laughter up Mila’s throat. “I love you,” she said. Though these were the best words that she’d said so many times before, Mila felt herself falling for Blake all over again.

“I like that,” Blake said, pressing a thumb over the smile crease at the side of her mouth. “I don’t want you smiling harder for anyone or anything but me.”

They headed into the hotel. The main lobby was decked out in gold marble with orchids woven around each column. The lounge was just as grand. A man in a tuxedo crooned in French at a baby grand piano. A hostess escorted them to one of the grottos, a secluded, intimate area, where the wedding planner, Thao, sat. He donned a royal-blue suit. Mossy green and tan laced embellishments were the finishing touches, offering a renaissance flair. With a rigid spine, Thao appeared to be every bit of a man who planned weddings at the ten million dollars plus mark. He placed a leather folder on the table and stood. Eyeing Mila like a rare jewel, Thao kissed her hand and introduced himself.

He then gave Blake’s hand a hearty shake.

“I’ve just ordered their best wine,” Thao said, sinking back into his chair as the server came by.

“Fine with me,” Mila smiled, sitting next to him. “I’m ready to begin.”

“Your best bourbon,” Blake addressed the server and then sat next to Mila and across from Thao.

“I noticed that you two have some sort of contest going?” Thao pushed a few strands of his jet-black hair behind his ear, the only sign that he wasn’t too keen on the idea.

“Yes,” Mila spoke up. “I cannot believe how many suggestions we have gotten as far as weddings go.”

Not satisfied with her response, Thao began again. “I must say that this will be my first instance where—”

Mila waved a hand. “Those are just suggestions, Thao. It garners publicity and drives free advertisement to Blake. Although I do appreciate some of the responses, it is overwhelming. Besides, the social media aspect is just merely a way for me to ensure that Blake can’t chicken out.”

Blake, who hadn’t paid much attention so far, turned to his fiancée. “Mila—”

“I’m joking, baby.” Mila squeezed his thigh. “It’s actually me,” she said wriggling her fingers. “I cannot have a long engagement. The sooner you can plan our wedding, the happier I will be. I promise not to be a runaway bride, it’s just getting from A-to-B which scares me. Valentine’s Day or thereabouts works for me.”

Thao nodded slowly. “I can offer suggestions based on what I know about the two of you—what I see. It’s simply the only way I can work.”

“Yes.”

Blake spoke up. “Just as long as you make it quick. So, I can bed my wife.”

Thao laughed. He was visibly relieved. “Thank goodness. I will be candid—I am very candid. I wasn’t going to continue the conversation if this seemed like a social ploy. Now, I’ve seen the outlines from Madame Renee for your wedding dress, Mila. The instant I hear that the great Renee is involved in a wedding, I’m more inclined to agree. I do not negotiate. My services include a retainer fee of four hundred thousand and then ten percent of the cost of every service. But I have not chosen you yet.”

Mila was in shock.

Blake knew the drill; Diane’s wedding planner had been brutal. The expensive ones never sugarcoated anything, and they suggested the costliest item for everything. He nodded. “Continue.”

“Flower choice?”

“Um,” Mila started. Her widened eyes were still in shock about the price.

Blake spoke again. “She loves lilies.”

“A very in demand flower in the summer. But it’s winter now . . . so . . .”

Blake knew that automatically upped the price tag.

“Destination?” Thao asked.

“That works,” Blake said.

Thao smiled. A destination wedding brought with it even more grand ideas. He patted Mila’s shoulder. “Your skin tone would be gorgeous with olive green accents—I’m thinking background, of course.”

“That’s one of my favorite colors,” she replied.

Thao continued with his questioning, and then he opened an iPad to show them places where Pierce Brosnan and Sir Paul McCartney had gotten married, and of course, where David married Victoria Beckham.

“I love it!” Mila said. “Blake, what do you think?”

“Your call.” He squeezed her thigh.

“With the time constraints,” Thao began, “I will need to begin soon.”

Mila bit her lip for a second. Then she asked, “Can you give me a second? I have to call my sisters.”