you.”
A woman in a horned Maleficent hat scowled from her spot in the crowd and called Alan a foul name. Mitch had to agree with her, even if Zoey’s story was complete crap. He had to give Zoey credit for thinking fast. He almost believed the tale himself, she told it with so much conviction.
“She’s making this up,” Alan said. He lunged to get around Zoey, but Mitch blocked him once again.
“I’ve moved on.” Zoey wrapped an arm around Mitch, snuggling up against his side. Mitch swallowed hard, suddenly not loving this plan, or maybe loving it too much—he wasn’t sure which. “Mitch is a hundred times the man you can ever hope to be.”
“You tell him, lady!” Maleficent shouted.
“You’re crazy,” Alan said. He raised his voice. “She’s crazy! I barely know her. We haven’t even gone on a date.”
“Oh, so now—after terrorizing me for months—you’ve decided to accept the fact we’ve never dated?” Zoey said. “It’s too little, too late. Don’t make me throw your butt back in jail.”
Okay, this had gone far enough. It was time to end this charade and let the crowd disperse. Camera phones were everywhere, and Zoey was still present enough in the media that someone might recognize her and make the connection to Brooke. The maid of honor sash definitely didn’t help matters.
Mitch tugged on Zoey, trying to pull her away. “I think you’ve made your point. Let’s go, dear.” If only he could figure out how to take Alan’s camera with them. Buying him off was out of the question, now that they’d attracted so much attention.
It was like Zoey read his mind. An overweight and balding man edged his way through the middle of the crowd, unconcerned with the argument going on. Clutched in his hand was an oversized drink.
Zoey reached out and grabbed the cup from the man’s hand.
“Hey!” he shouted.
Quick as lightning, Zoey had the lid off. The dark cola hit Alan’s camera right in the lens and soaked the front of his shirt. Ice dropped to the floor like breaking glass. Someone in the crowd shrieked, and a flash went off from a camera.
“You don’t deserve a woman like me,” Zoey told Alan.
Maleficent clapped, and a few others joined in.
Alan cursed, calling Zoey a name that had Mitch wanting to punch him in the throat. “That was a two-thousand-dollar camera! I don’t have the money to replace that.”
“Try selling the photos to the tabloids now,” Zoey said. Then she grabbed Mitch’s hand, and they disappeared into the crowd.
Last night had to be some sort of awful dream.
Zoey burrowed deeper into the fluffy blankets on her bed, fighting to return to the warm comfort of sleep. But sunlight streamed through the open curtains in her bedroom, making her squint.
Surely Alan hadn’t shown up at the bridal shower and taken photos. At least she’d ruined his camera so he couldn’t post them.
Mitch hadn’t seemed especially thrilled with her solution to The Alan Problem, if his huffy departure last night was any indication. At least Brooke was happy. She’d laughed when Zoey related the story, and they’d spent the rest of the night enjoying Disneyland. Mitch and Alan aside, Zoey was confident last night had been the best bridal shower any of the guests had ever attended.
Zoey stretched, raising her arms above her head and letting out a loud yawn. Another two and a half weeks, and she could stop worrying so much about the dang press. And when Brooke got back from her honeymoon, Zoey would turn in her two weeks’ notice. Probably. Maybe she’d just tell Brooke about her side business and see if she could cut back her hours until it really took off. Brooke was counting on Zoey to help train the new matchmakers, and she didn’t want to disappoint her.
Zoey exhaled, puffing her teal-streaked bangs out of her eyes. “Stop being a wimp,” she said aloud. Why was she so worried about what Brooke would think? This wasn’t about
A woman in a horned Maleficent hat scowled from her spot in the crowd and called Alan a foul name. Mitch had to agree with her, even if Zoey’s story was complete crap. He had to give Zoey credit for thinking fast. He almost believed the tale himself, she told it with so much conviction.
“She’s making this up,” Alan said. He lunged to get around Zoey, but Mitch blocked him once again.
“I’ve moved on.” Zoey wrapped an arm around Mitch, snuggling up against his side. Mitch swallowed hard, suddenly not loving this plan, or maybe loving it too much—he wasn’t sure which. “Mitch is a hundred times the man you can ever hope to be.”
“You tell him, lady!” Maleficent shouted.
“You’re crazy,” Alan said. He raised his voice. “She’s crazy! I barely know her. We haven’t even gone on a date.”
“Oh, so now—after terrorizing me for months—you’ve decided to accept the fact we’ve never dated?” Zoey said. “It’s too little, too late. Don’t make me throw your butt back in jail.”
Okay, this had gone far enough. It was time to end this charade and let the crowd disperse. Camera phones were everywhere, and Zoey was still present enough in the media that someone might recognize her and make the connection to Brooke. The maid of honor sash definitely didn’t help matters.
Mitch tugged on Zoey, trying to pull her away. “I think you’ve made your point. Let’s go, dear.” If only he could figure out how to take Alan’s camera with them. Buying him off was out of the question, now that they’d attracted so much attention.
It was like Zoey read his mind. An overweight and balding man edged his way through the middle of the crowd, unconcerned with the argument going on. Clutched in his hand was an oversized drink.
Zoey reached out and grabbed the cup from the man’s hand.
“Hey!” he shouted.
Quick as lightning, Zoey had the lid off. The dark cola hit Alan’s camera right in the lens and soaked the front of his shirt. Ice dropped to the floor like breaking glass. Someone in the crowd shrieked, and a flash went off from a camera.
“You don’t deserve a woman like me,” Zoey told Alan.
Maleficent clapped, and a few others joined in.
Alan cursed, calling Zoey a name that had Mitch wanting to punch him in the throat. “That was a two-thousand-dollar camera! I don’t have the money to replace that.”
“Try selling the photos to the tabloids now,” Zoey said. Then she grabbed Mitch’s hand, and they disappeared into the crowd.
Last night had to be some sort of awful dream.
Zoey burrowed deeper into the fluffy blankets on her bed, fighting to return to the warm comfort of sleep. But sunlight streamed through the open curtains in her bedroom, making her squint.
Surely Alan hadn’t shown up at the bridal shower and taken photos. At least she’d ruined his camera so he couldn’t post them.
Mitch hadn’t seemed especially thrilled with her solution to The Alan Problem, if his huffy departure last night was any indication. At least Brooke was happy. She’d laughed when Zoey related the story, and they’d spent the rest of the night enjoying Disneyland. Mitch and Alan aside, Zoey was confident last night had been the best bridal shower any of the guests had ever attended.
Zoey stretched, raising her arms above her head and letting out a loud yawn. Another two and a half weeks, and she could stop worrying so much about the dang press. And when Brooke got back from her honeymoon, Zoey would turn in her two weeks’ notice. Probably. Maybe she’d just tell Brooke about her side business and see if she could cut back her hours until it really took off. Brooke was counting on Zoey to help train the new matchmakers, and she didn’t want to disappoint her.
Zoey exhaled, puffing her teal-streaked bangs out of her eyes. “Stop being a wimp,” she said aloud. Why was she so worried about what Brooke would think? This wasn’t about
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