Chapter 1
When I showed up at my arch-rival Simon Carter's wedding, I had exactly one goal in mind: to eat my weight in his most expensive food.
The tables were stacked with abalone and lobster, and I was feasting like a champ, making a killing with every bite.
But then the bride, Vivian White, bolted.
With red-rimmed eyes, Simon hauled me away from my dinner and dragged me onto the stage. "Julia, you're stepping in."
Staring at the massive, multi-million dollar diamond ring in his hand, I quickly swallowed my mouthful of king crab and nodded, tears welling in my eyes.
Sometime later, he cornered me against a wall. "You fell for me a long time ago, didn't you?" he murmured, his voice low and husky.
I let out a slow, satisfied burp. "Dude, you're blocking my signal. I'm trying to snag a flash deal here."
*****
When I showed up at Simon's wedding, I gave him exactly 70 bucks as a gift, just enough to call him an idiot.
That number was my way of throwing shade, but also sending my best wishes.
Here was to him and his fragile bride, two idiots together.
They were a match made in crazy town.
I was an average food blogger. My only goal today was to eat my money's worth, and if I could, eat Simon straight into bankruptcy.
Simon, that pain in the ass, had been my rival since we were kids.
If I came in first, he'd go for a perfect score.
I picked liberal arts, and to one-up me, he switched to finance. After graduation, he launched his own company and shot up in the business world, snapping up tiny media studios like mine.
He was like a bad penny that kept turning up.
The place was dripping in extravagance, buffet tables sparkling, lobsters piled up like mountains, caviar by the bucketful, and the champagne tower was practically skyscraper-sized.
My eyes lit up, and all thoughts of rivalry vanished in an instant.
Forget the feud; food was life.
I weaved through the crowd, wading through all the phony chit-chat, moving like a busy little bee, zeroing in on the priciest dishes and piling them onto my plate.
"Ms. Grant, long time no see. You're looking even more beautiful," some sleazy middle-aged guy said, trying to hit on me.
Mouth so full I could barely talk, I replied, "You too."
His smile froze on his face.
I couldn't be bothered with him. Grabbing my sixth plate of loot, I found a quiet corner and kept going.
The wedding march had played eight times, and the bride still hadn't shown up.
The guests started whispering, and things were getting awkward.
I kept my ears peeled for gossip while prying open an oyster. The juice was rich and buttery, melting on my tongue.
Damn, that was good.
Trusted Simon, even the food at his wedding was ridiculously classy.
Suddenly, the whole place went dead silent.
I looked up and saw Simon step up onto the stage, his face dark as a thundercloud. He was clutching a piece of paper so tightly his knuckles were white.
The MC tried to smooth things over, sounding awkward as hell. He said, "Uh, the bride's probably just a little nervous, freshening up her makeup. Let's hear a few words from the groom first."
Simon snatched the mic, his voice colder than a blizzard.
"Vivian ran off," he said.
Those three words dropped like a bombshell, and the whole room went dead silent.
I almost shot foie gras out of my mouth.
Holy crap. I meant, seriously, holy crap.
This was crazier than any prime-time drama I watched last night.
Vivian ditched him, and Simon announced it right there on stage. This was the ultimate social death.
I was straight-up gloating as I watched Simon up on stage. His usually proud, icy face looked like he had swallowed a whole storm.
I even pulled out my phone, ready to capture this legendary moment. The headline was already in my head: [Breaking News—The Boss's Wedding Disaster. Shocking: Bride Elopes with Another Man]
This was guaranteed to go viral.
Simon's gaze swept across the crowd, like a radar locking onto its target.
Then he froze.
He fixated on me, his glare so fierce it felt like he wanted to skin me alive.
My stomach dropped.
Come on, Simon, why were you staring at me at a time like this?
We were not that close.
Instinctively, I held up my lobster claw as if to prove my innocence.
The next second, Simon tossed the mic aside and strode straight toward me, his long legs eating up the distance.
He was like a force of nature, his towering figure radiating a destructive aura that made the crowd part for him.
My brain just froze.
I was completely blanking out.
Watching him get closer and closer, the only thing going through my head was my lobster. Was he trying to take it?
This was the last one.
In full view of the crowd, Simon marched right up to me, grabbed my wrist without saying a word, and dragged me onto the stage.
"Hey, Simon, what are you doing? My plate. My king crab legs!" I shouted.
My seventh plate of loot hit the floor and smashed to bits.
I winced in agony.
That was king crab, damn it.
Simon dragged me up onto the stage, nearly sending me sprawling face-first.
The spotlight hit me, and my chipmunk cheeks, stuffed to the brim, were exposed for all to see under those unforgiving HD cameras.
The grease at the corner of my mouth was practically sparkling.
Simon pulled the diamond ring out of his pocket, big as a pigeon egg, didn't even glance at it, roughly pulled the hair tie off my wrist, and jammed the ring onto my ring finger.
It fit perfectly.
He grabbed the mic and announced to the stunned crowd.
Simon said, "The bride ran off, the wedding continues.
"Now, she's the bride, Julia."