Page 62 of Forty, Flirty & F*cked

"Delete that."

“No fucking way.”

"I will throw you off this building."

"Children," Cal sighs, "perhaps we could focus on the matter at hand? Namely, why our fearless leader is currently making heart eyes at his PR executive instead of preparing for the biggest IPO of his career?"

"I do not make heart eyes."

"You kind of do," Luke says. "It's actually pretty sweet. In a 'watching a former horn-dog discover emotions' kind of way."

“For fuck’s sake, I have never been a?—“

My phone buzzes.

ARIANA: So hypothetically...

ARIANA: If someone was trying to recreate La Famiglia’s famous lasagna...

ARIANA: And maybe set off their smoke alarm...

ARIANA: How mad would you be if that someone used your name to get the actual recipe?

"Oh god." I'm already heading for the door. "I have to go."

“What the hell, Reeves? We still have bachelor party plans to go over!" Grayson calls after me.

“Not to mention talking about that hot brunette you’re sneaking around with!” Luke adds.

"Or that video of you singing—!” Cal shouts.

I slam the door on their laughter, already texting back.

ME: Please tell me you didn't actually call the owner of La Famiglia and lie her recipe from her

ARIANA: Okay, I won't tell you that.

ARIANA: But in my defense, Dad really wanted the recipe.

ARIANA: And now the kitchen's maybe on fire?

ARIANA: Just a little fire though!

I'm in my car before I finish reading, already pulling up her father's address from her emergency contact database.

ME: On my way. And…try not to let your Dad touch anything else.

ARIANA: Too late.

ARIANA: He's convinced he can "fix it."

ARIANA: Update: He cannot fix it.

ARIANA: Another update: Lily's trying to help.

ARIANA: This was a mistake.

Twenty minutes later, I pull up to a modest craftsman in Queen Anne, just as someone throws open the front door, releasing a cloud of smoke.

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