Free Charming You (Thirsty Hearts Book 1) by Kris Jayne

one of the Dallas Cowboys instead. Some "unfortunate girl" from the Ozarks who'd dropped out of the University of Missouri once her then-boyfriend was drafted. Social capital had to be earned.
    When Vivienne brought up inviting the Schoens, Sheila's rage had flared red on her usually pallid face. Over the following week, Sheila had swerved between not inviting the woman and inviting her, but putting at the worst possible table—near the kitchen with her husband's strangest cousins from Baton Rouge.
    The wedding had quickly turned into an opportunity for doling out high-society justice rather than a celebration of their commitment to one another. Now, the urge to run away hit Nick again. Eloping sounded like heaven, but he'd have to grit his teeth and make it through the wedding.
    The last thing he needed was to end up on the receiving end of Sheila's retribution. Nick smiled at Miranda as she slid a soup bowl in front of him. He stared down at the pool of pale green in the shallow bowl.
    "Cream of asparagus," Miranda informed him.
    Nick's throat closed at the thought. Creaming vegetables into odd soups must be a favorite pastime of the wealthy. One seemed to make an appearance on every high-toned menu. He picked up his spoon and took a deep breath.
    "I had a wonderful lunch with Bob Stratford today. I'm looking forward to working together on our next venture, Nick," Tom said.
    "I take it you're not talking about his and Vivienne's wedding?" Sheila asked.
    "Precisely. Must we talk business?" Vivienne asked and directed a soft pout at her father.
    "No, but I thought you'd like to know how well your fiancé's boss regards him," Tom explained. "And I am glad that Nick, Jonah, and I will have a chance to work together. Nothing solidifies a relationship like working toward a common goal."
    "I'm looking forward to it," Nick said as convincingly as he could. "I've already started getting some background on your acquisition target. In fact, I met with my contact and got a little insight into some areas of concern."
    "Really? Maybe you can introduce me to her."
    Nick saw no reason for that. As Tom sipped his wine, Nick thought he detected a smirk and wondered what else the man had found out about Micky.
    "We don't want to complicate matters. I have some other suggestions, but we don't have to talk about that now. I have a feeling the ladies don't want to talk business," Nick noted, trying to draw the conversation away from business, and Micky.
    "Business is what makes everything else possible," Tom retorted with his brows raised in admonition.
    Vivienne eyed Nick curiously. Nick hadn't meant to sound like the little women didn't need to worry their heads with business. But more questions about the tall brunette he'd met didn't seem like a good topic with his fiancée's father.
    "What we should be talking about is getting your wedding plans back on track," Sheila interjected. "We talked about June of next year. I fail to see how that's possible now. The best venues book up at least a year in advance. You two need to pick a date."
    Vivienne squeezed Nick's knee under the table.
    "We're on it, and we'll let you know as soon as we do. I think June is still possible. We could always do it here. That might be nice actually," Vivienne said.
    "Jonah showed me the grounds earlier. A wedding here would be beautiful," Emily piped in.
    "I suppose," Vivienne's mother replied without expression. "Think it over, dear. You want your wedding day to be perfect."
    "Of course, I do, Mother."
    Nick put the chances that the wedding would be on the back lawn of the Morans' mansion at less than zero. He still didn't know if they'd get married at all. He forced himself to swallow some of the pungent soup.
    Vivienne smiled at Jonah's date. "What have you been up to Emily? Must be nice to be out of school."
    The conversation flowed on in a bizarre river of polite, empty words, no more meaningful than white noise. Nick swept his spoon across the surface of his