The Negotiator by Avery Flynn

Author:Avery Flynn [Flynn, Avery]
Language: dan, deu, eng, spa, fra, ita, nld, por, rus, swe
Format: epub
Tags: Entangled; Select Contemporary; romance; contemporary; contemporary romance; Avery Flynn; sassy; romantic comedy; CEO; Opposites attract; A little manic pixie dream girl; Fake engagement
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC (Select Contemporary)
Published: 2017-04-24T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Normally, a brunch trip to Grounded Coffee with Daphne meant Clover rushed to claim the seat at their regular table that would give her the perfect view of the coffee house’s amazingly hot in-house pastry chef as he made the chocolate-filled croissants and other goodies destined to go straight to her ass. This time, though, she didn’t even realize she was sitting with her back to the large window dividing the kitchen from the seating area until Daphne slid into prime viewing seat number one and dug into her food.

“Oh my God.” Daphne gasped, her forkful of bacon and spinach quiche stopping halfway between her plate and her mouth. “It really must be love.”

Trying not the burn with guilt, Clover finished the bite of taste-free and chalky croissant. Okay, it probably tasted wonderful but not to her at the moment. The evil eye her conscience was giving her pretty much killed any good the delectable could do for her taste buds.

“What are you talking about?” she asked, sounding as convincingly innocent as she had when she’d been eight and had gotten caught with the last crumbs of an entire plate’s worth of Christmas cookies.

“Hot chef,” Daphne responded. “You didn’t even look before you plopped down.”

Buying time by stuffing another bite of flaky, buttery chalk dust into her mouth, she forced herself to make eye contact with her best friend. Daphne had her elbows on their table and her chin propped up on one hand, her brown eyes wide with interest.

“I’m just keeping the mystery alive for our friendship.” Oh yeah, Clover. That doesn’t sound like bullshit at all. “What fun would it be if you knew everything about me?”

“Like that game is even necessary,” Daphne argued and popped another bite of quiche into her mouth. “I’ve barely heard from you lately and this is the first time I’ve laid eyes on you in weeks.”

“It’s been a little busy.” In a hot, sweaty sex against the wall, in the shower, and occasionally on the bed kind of way.

Daphne arched an eyebrow. “All that wedding planning, huh?”

What once had probably been a perfectly good croissant transformed into a lead weight in the pit of her stomach. God, she hated lying. This was why she’d been dodging her bestie and her mom. It was easier to forget what a total asshole she was being to the people she loved if she wasn’t eye to eye with them. The truth danced on the tip of her tongue before pounding against her clamped shut lips. But instead of letting the words out, she forced herself to walk the Sawyer Carlyle personal buffer company line.

“Exactly.” She nodded and slammed back the remains of her espresso cup, kind of for real hoping it would make her spontaneously combust on the spot.

It didn’t. Instead, she just gave her insides third degree burns.

“That is bullshit,” Daphne said.

Clover jerked to attention, torn away from her own pity party.

Daphne rolled her eyes and continued. “I know you’re not getting married.”

“According to the paper I am.

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