Page 82 of Sex, Lies, and Margarita Mixes

I grin. “I don’t think I’d like prison. I can’t have liner sharp enough to shank someone, no red lipstick, and someone scary would want to sit on my face.”

“He nods. All true… wanna sit on my face?” He waggles his brows at me.

I laugh out loud. “Yes, actually.”

Laying back, he points at his face.

Standing, I drop my shorts and panties and do just that.

By noon, my phone’s blowing up.

Three vendors ask if I’m “partnering” with Holden because he dropped our name.

Fuck that piece of shit.

Two reporters leave messages requesting a quote. One email from a former client forwarding a gossip blog headline: “Did Roxy West Inspire Holden Marks’ Next Business Move?”

I call Mari Lynn. As soon as she answers, I say, “Did you know?”

She groans. “I didn’t. Last I heard he was building some luxury shopping center in Austin with million-dollar apartments on the top floors. This came out of nowhere.”

“Is he targeting me? It feels like this is directed at me. He dropped our name! And the fuck? A one-stop-shop for all things wedding and hiring a celebrity chef to cater them?” I scream.

“Yeah, he did. And I’m working on that. He’s suddenly targeting the entire Dallas wedding scene, babe. But yeah… probably mostly you. What the hell happened at the beach house?”

I rub my temples. “Nothing. Well, he showed up as I told you and busted in on the couple’s retreat. I was going to kick his ass until security removed him. He was pissed and goaded Chase, but what the hell? I swear if he tries to book our clients?—”

“You’ll what?” Mari Lynn deadpans. “Beat him with a fondant rolling pin or stab him in the eye with your stiletto?” I hear the smile in her voice.

“Don’t tempt me.” I growl.

She laughs and I laugh with her at the image in my head.

At 4PM, the office phone rings.

“Bold Hearts Events, this is Roxy.”

A familiar voice purrs through the line. “Hey, Rox.” It makes my skin crawl.

I freeze. “Holden.”

“You saw the article, huh?”

“I did.” I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms. “Why are you name dropping me and my business? What do you want?”

He chuckles. “Can’t I just call to catch up?”

“You tried that… at the beach house you broke into, months ago. If you recall, it didn’t end well… for you. So, I’ll ask again, what the hell do you want?” I’m flipping a pen on my desktop and Melody has perched on the edge so she can listen, too.

He exhales. “Fair. Well… I’ve got a tasting event next week. Soft launch for my new event catering brand. I wanted to extend an invite.”

Sure you did?

I laugh dryly. “Why? So you can show me how much more money you have now? Not interested.”

“Come on, Rox.” His voice is low, pleading in the way that used to get me to do whatever he wanted. “We were good together once. We can be again. I miss you.”

Absolutely the fuck not.

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