No Weddings (10 page)

Complete with green-iced trees on the outer edge, lit paneling along the sides, and tiny spectator heads in the stands that angled down to the turf in the center, the cake looked like an architect’s model. As if the stadium itself wasn’t enough, she replicated a life-sized Vince Lombardi Trophy in silver frosting as an entirely separate cake.

They were works of art.

I couldn’t stop staring at the massive creation. Twisted tubes of white chocolate formed the goal posts on either side. She even had tiny sideline benches with water coolers.

The good thing about my absorbing every little detail of her masterpiece was that, for a short time anyway, I could focus on something other than her. Setting up the final touches on the VIP suite right before the guests showed, we’d each been busy with our list of tasks, and the cake had been one of the last items to arrive. In fact, guests had already started to trickle in, several entering right behind the cake caravan.

Rolled in on several carts by the two new staff members Hannah had hired, the cake’s slow approach through the entry doors drew everyone’s attention. Hannah followed behind, guarding the corners of the cake with a scrutinizing eye to be sure they successfully made the turn with their wide load.

I couldn’t have been more proud as I finally pulled back. I moved closer to her, feeling her palpable excitement. “You did good, Maestro.”

Hannah looked up at me, her expression hardened into a seriousness that surpassed any I’d seen before. After a pause of several beats, she smiled.

And she went from gorgeous to stunning.

Wearing simple jeans dressed up with a black, long-sleeved collared top with French cuffs, she pulled off carefree professional with class. The dark color was a change for her, and it turned her hazel eyes a vivid green.

They held mine.

I swallowed. “You look great, by the way.”

Her smile warmed further, if that was even possible. “Thanks.” Tilting her head, she regarded me a moment. “Why do you call me Maestro? When you used it during our business negotiations, you seemed flippant. But just now, it seemed friendlier.”

I smiled. “It is friendlier. The day we met in your kitchen, you’d orchestrated masterpieces with the wave of your spatula like a conductor, and then you inadvertently flicked frosting onto me.”

Eyes widening, remorse flashed across her face. “Sorry.”

I shook my head. “Don’t be. When I’d met you at my bar’s grand opening, you were an Ice Queen. But in your kitchen, you revealed this whole other side when you thought no one was looking. The Maestro nickname reminds me of your free-spirited side. Does it bother you?”

Her brows furrowed. “Ice Queen?”

My lips twitched as I fought a smile. “Seriously? The chilling reception you gave was effective and memorable. But I like calling you Maestro. It reminds me that there’s so much more to you than meets the eye.”

She exhaled a slow breath as her expression grew serious. She searched my face, as if deciding whether or not she liked me thinking of her in that way. “No. I like it.”

And yet, traces of the cold Ice Queen were written in the hard lines of her face. Almost like a part of her trusted me with the nickname, but another part of her warned me off.

Her gaze suddenly zeroed in on the other side of the room, and she breezed past me to mingle with the crowd gathering around the cake. The Ice Queen had vanished. In her stead, warmth radiated from a woman I’d never seen before, as if she’d been born a socialite.

Intrigued by the new development, I intermittently glanced her way from the edges of the room in between conversations with guests. By the time I made it to the bar, I was completely stumped.

Ben laughed when I sat down. “You look confused.”

“I am.”

“Care to share?” He grinned, his attention shifting to the commotion in the vicinity of the cake where the
ooo
’s and
ahhh
’s continued.

“No. Hit me.” That was code for scotch. We had top shelf here for the host and his guests, and our cost included our own partaking during the festivities. It was part of our full-service event package.

I swirled the amber liquid in my glass, then sipped it, letting the rich peat flavor roll over my tongue while I tried to get into the excitement of being at the Super Bowl, a first for me and every kid’s dream. But no matter how I tried to let my awe of the surroundings sink in, something more distracting buzzed nearby, gaining my attention despite any evasion tactics I employed. And today, the newest facet of an already interesting woman had thrown me.

My one-on-one exposure to Hannah had been minimal during the last two weeks. She’d been focused on building her business, and I’d been busy with papers at school and working four nights a week. Plus, Ben and I had spent time interviewing and hiring another bartender. We now had four others on rotating shifts, enough to cover for my increasing absence as my priorities slid away from tending the bar, just like we’d planned when we’d first opened.

More guests filled the room, family and friends of several star players. Confidentiality prohibited me from disclosing our clientele to outsiders, but suffice it to say, I was one happy boy. I finished my scotch, then rotated through the crowd, ensuring everyone who wanted a drink had one as I laughed at jokes and listened to stories.

A familiar man with dark blond hair turned, eyes wide and blinking like a lone kid who’d wandered into a wall-to-wall candy store.

Grinning, I clapped him on the shoulder. “Jason. Glad you could make it.”

“Hey, Cade. Are you kidding? When Kristen told me the news, I rescheduled a business trip to be here. Not every day a man gets to attend the Super Bowl.”

“Can I get you a drink?” I glanced over at Ben behind the bar, who gave Jason a chin up in greeting from across the room.

Jason shook his head. “Kristen’s getting me a beer, and I need to find her. We made a deal. I got to come as long as I spent the game sitting with her, giving her the play-by-play action.”

I snorted. “Good luck with that, man. I hope you enjoy the game.”

He smirked. “Oh, I intend to educate the hell out of her. Maybe even some halftime lessons in one of the private bathrooms. With continued play-by-play commentary.”

Scowling, I shook my head. “No talking about sex with my sister. Have it, just don’t tell me about it.”

Jason barked out laughter before heading off to look for said sister. I pinched the bridge of my nose, attempting to scour my brain clean. And made a mental note to use the bathroom well before halftime.

Right after kickoff, I worked my way to an empty barstool off to the side of the large suite and caught Hannah standing by herself, watching me.

I winked.

She smiled.

Damn, I loved being at the receiving end of those smiles. She held them tight to her chest, so I knew when she flashed one, it was real and I’d earned it.

She crossed the room and sat on the only other free stool, beside me. Now that the game had begun, everyone had settled into their chosen seats inside the large suite, watching the action on the field through the glass or on one of the dozen large monitors positioned around the room.

“You did good too,” she whispered.

“Thanks.” I’d been on fire setting up for this event, in my element from the large-scale organization down to the minor details. “Don’t hold out on me, though. You can tell me I look awesome too.”

She laughed hard. “Ego much?”

I shrugged, holding back a smile. “Only stating the facts.”

Without pulling my attention from the field, I saw her twist, pulling back a bit, assessing me from head to toe. I hadn’t worn anything special. Black, lizard-skin cowboy boots, dark jeans, black button-down shirt. My usual.

“Yeah, you clean up okay.” Humor edged her voice.

I glanced over, catching the glint in her eyes. “So, I noticed something as I watched you work the room.”

“Yeah? What’s that?” She turned her upper body more toward me.

She’d mingled with guests for a polite few minutes, but she’d given the same standoffish conversations to my sisters. “You don’t seem to be that close with my sisters, not even with Kiki. Aren’t you two friends?” I remembered Kiki had said something about it, but wasn’t sure.

Turning forward again, she gazed out at the football stadium. “Kiki and I aren’t close, not really. We took an art class together and got along well but never became friends per se. I met your other two sisters at your bar opening.”

I smiled, wondering how much of the ice-queen treatment she gave everyone else. Every instinct I had screamed it was a barrier of protection. Against what, I hadn’t a clue.

“Well, they like you. So do I.”

She shot a sidelong glance at me. “Yeah? Well, I like them too.”

When she said nothing further, I almost laughed at the omission, glancing at her. “And me?”

She shrugged. “You’re not so bad.”

I snorted while her shoulders shook with silent laughter.

After that, in companionable silence, we watched the game. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d sat next to a woman as attractive as her without needing to do anything other than be beside one another to be content. The relaxed atmosphere between us was nice. Even better, in spite of the wild attraction we felt and the occasional games we played, it was nice to know we could call a truce when it came to business.

“So, what do you think? Do you want to be a part of the Invitation Only team?”

Hannah glanced at me. “My terms?”

“Well, let’s talk about those terms again.”

“I get to deliver cakes to
any
customer as long as I’m not working with an event-planning company. Even if it’s for a wedding.”

I stared at her. Something had to give, and I knew it. And really, the “no weddings” stipulation was more of a personal rule of mine with Invitation Only. Hannah doing cakes for weddings would be great for her business and okay for Invitation Only as long as we were protected. I gave a curt nod. “And have
no
contact with any event-planning company.”

“What if I’m delivering a cake to a hotel, and I accidentally have contact because an event planner directs me on where to set up?”

I sighed. “
Fine
. Minimal contact. We’re going to be extending a large amount of trust to you with this, so please respect the risk for what it is. Look, Hannah, let me explain it in terms of your business. Say you hire an employee and train them to the point where they know a lot about what you know. Then all of a sudden, they become your competition.”

“Well, I’ll have them sign contracts and non-compete clauses just like you are.”

“But what if they work around them, Hannah? What if they develop relationships with your clients? Contracts exist because people breach agreements and then everyone ends up in court. Do you see how it’s still a risk? And the greater the contact, the greater the risk?”

Her expression softened, and she nodded. “Okay, I understand where you’re coming from. I’ll be sure to protect our relationship by disclosing our exclusivity with any event-planning company that approaches me. And I’ll be sure to keep any possible exposure to a minimum. But I need you to understand where I’m coming from. A wedding does not always have an event-planning company connected to it. See my point?”

I did. And to not look like a total single-focused ass, I gave her a reasonable explanation. “I get it. With my upbringing, I kept imagining weddings and event planners going hand in hand.”

She tilted her head. “I thought you were being oddly unreasonable about the ‘no weddings’ thing.”

If only she knew.
“Great. Looks like we’ve come to an understanding. Ready to sign on the dotted line?”

She nodded again. “Sure. Bring me the revised contract next time you’re at the bakery.”

“Not necessary.” I stepped over to the end of the bar and reached behind the counter to grab my bag. I pulled out the already prepared contracts with a pen clipped to them.

When I glanced up, I saw her stunned expression for a beat before she narrowed her eyes. “Cade Michaelson. You knew I’d agree?”

I smirked. “Helps to know your target market. I had a good feeling you’d agree on the major points. Just give me a second to write in our compromise.”

Right as I handed Hannah a pen, Kiki burst in between us. “Oh. My. God. Cade! I
love
football.”

Staring at her, I blinked. “Why the sudden change?”

“Have you
seen
their asses in those tight uniforms? So much better in person than on TV.”

I shook my head. “Never in the way you mean.”

Hannah handed back my copy of the signed contract and pen.

“Well, Kiki, congratulate Hannah. She’s now officially a team member of Invitation Only.”

Kiki turned with one of her trademark squeals and crushed Hannah in hug. “That’s so awesome, Hannah. Congratulations.”

I grinned at Hannah’s surprised expression over Kiki’s shoulder.

When Hannah pulled away, Kiki darted off toward Kristen and Kendall, presumably to share the great news.

Fairly certain a hug from me would be pushing it, I held out a hand. “Congratulations, Maestro. Welcome to the team.”

Beyond us, everyone rotated back toward that phenomenal cake, and I realized halftime had already started. A couple of people held empty plates in their hands.

I nudged her off the stool. “You’re on.”

“What?” She laughed but then turned and gasped. “Oh!”

Nearly launching off her stool, she hustled over and saved the day.

Still within earshot, I overheard the discussions by the cake.

“I can’t cut into it.” The woman had a stricken look on her face.

Hannah grabbed the long knife lying along the side of the platform that held the cake. “No worries. That’s what I’m here for. I made it, I can destroy it.”

Resolved not to interfere, I remained seated, watching from across the room. The cake part was Hannah’s gig, and she beamed brightly in her element.

Admiring this new composed yet outgoing facet of her I hadn’t expected, I kept my distance, studying her. All wrapped up into one, she was an excited artist, occasional Ice Queen, and a smooth businesswoman. And who could forget the tempting seductress.