Page 40 of Clued in to Love
“But it says here that the mushrooms are ‘house-smoked.’”
“So pretentious.” Marissa rolled her eyes, seriously enjoying herself. She would have never guessed that William was so funny.
“Really? Oh, so nohouse-smokedmushrooms for our food arranger.” He leaned in. “What are you getting?”
“The roasted red pepper and tomato soup,” Marissa replied with a goofy grin. “My red peppers have been ‘hand foraged’ according to the menu.”
“Foraged in Bend? In the middle of winter? Where? From the chef’s indoor pepper plant?” William cracked up, laughing easily, which made his entire face light up.
Marissa did, too. “This is what I love about the food industry. Write some good copy, and customers are salivating for house-smoked ’shrooms and foraged peppers. It’s brilliant.”
“Maybe you need to do that for Yes, Cheese.”
“Yeah, what would that be?” She thought for a minute. “Beautifully boxed Trader Joe’s crackers paired with hand-opened artichoke dip.”
William waved with both hands. “Tell me more. Now I’m salivating. Hand-opened dip, yeah.”
Marissa laughed, feeling completely at ease with him for the first time. She had expected that he might take offense, having grown up in one of the wealthiest households in Central Oregon.
The moment was short-lived, though. A woman strutted over to their table like a Kardashian with an entourage. Marissa recognized the woman from the Graff holiday party. It was Parker Smith from Smith Rock Wines. The rest of her party hungback, as if waiting for permission from Parker to approach the table.
“My goodness, what a coincidence. Wills, what are you doing here?” Parker cooed, ignoring her other friends and focusing her full attention on William.
Marissa immediately felt self-conscious and underdressed in her jeans, snow boots, and puffy jacket. Parker looked like she belonged on the glossy high-color pages of theTravel Bendmagazine. Everything about her was polished, from her fingernails to her expensive ski gear.
“We were just on the mountain. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” She kissed him on the cheek when he stood to greet her. “Your sweater is too much. Who put you up to that?” Parker patted his shoulder.
“No one. It’s my look.” William rolled his shoulders back to show off the ugly sweater.
“You’re so funny.” Parker called her friends over. “Come meet Wills, my dear, hmm…what exactly are we?” She flicked her gaze at William, seductively running her tongue along her bottom lip, leaving no room for misinterpretation. “‘Friends’ isn’t exactly right, is it?”
William didn’t answer but scooted closer to make room for Parker’s entourage to join them.
Marissa wished she could disappear. This wasn’t her crowd.
Parker noticed her. “Oh, I’m so sorry. We aren’t interrupting something, are we, Wills?” Her tone was as patronizing as her fake smile.
“Nope. I was just leaving.” Marissa stood.
William tried to stop. “Wait, what about our drinks and our hand-foraged peppers?”
She tugged off his gloves and pretended to check her phone. “I totally spaced that I was going to bring dinner to my bestietonight. She broke her leg in a skiing accident and isn’t exactly mobile now.”
“Wait.” William motioned for her to stop as Parker and her friends took over the table. “Let me at least walk you out so we can make a plan for tomorrow.”
“I’m good.” Marissa smiled and tried to sound breezy as she waved and walked away. “Enjoy, everyone.”
She headed for the exit as fast as her legs would carry her. She felt like an idiot for thinking there might have been a spark between her and William. It was obvious that Parker Smith was into him. It was hard to tell if William reciprocated Parker’s feelings, but it didn’t matter anyway. She couldn’t compete with Parker. The vineyard heiress was gorgeous, equally rich, and ran in the same circles. Come to think of it, it was a good thing that Parker had shown up. She was a glaring reminder that William was a Graff, and Marissa was a penniless wannabe caterer. They were partners for Passport to the Holidays and nothing more.
TWENTY-FOUR
DARBY
Darby almost bailed on Samesh. She pulled into a parking space in front of the ivy-covered brick building that housed the romantic Italian restaurant. Bundles of mistletoe wrapped with iridescent lighting hung from the front windows. She could see a trio of musicians serenading tables inside the low-lit dining area.
What are you doing?
She clutched the necklace with Jim’s wedding ring.
