Free Cupcakes & Chardonnay by Julia Gabriel

looked down at his grey suit, the buttons straining to close over his chef's stomach, and his obviously rarely-worn dress shoes. "I've got a change of clothes in the car. Jerry pinged me two hours ago and told me you were going to be here. I figured you might need some backup."
    "Oh god, Brent, do I ever." Suddenly she was on the verge of tears. This whole fake marriage business was proving to be more than she could handle. She bit her lip, trying to stop the tears. So what if he went off with some woman? They didn't have that kind of claim on each other, right?
    Brent put his hand gently on her arm. "Suzie-Q, what's going on?"
    "We were barely ten feet inside the door when he went off with some floozy! I mean, I know we aren't ... but still! To just abandon me as soon as we get here ..."
    "I am so going to kill that man. I knew I should have done it years ago." Brent looked at the growing crowd, trying to pick out Daryle Catterton. "He is not going to humiliate you in public like this. If he needed you so much to get his precious inheritance, then he needs to show a little gratitude."
    Noelle had been waiting for him, lying in wait. That much was obvious, Daryle realized.  She'd been waiting just inside the entrance and made a beeline for him the minute he and Suzanne had walked in.
    "Daryle, darling," Noelle said. Her voice was like syrup, artificially-sweetened syrup. "You aren't returning my calls or texts. You didn't invite me to your wedding." She drew him closer and glared straight at him. "You married the cupcake lady? A working girl? Little beneath you, isn't it?"
    "Sorry, Noelle. Suzanne and I knew each other years ago and we reconnected recently. We fell back in love and decided to marry. It was kind of spur-of-the-moment." He'd been saying this line to customers all week and was proud of how smoothly it rolled off his tongue now.
    "I thought we were in love," Noelle pouted at him.
    No, Daryle thought. We were not in love. Most definitely not. We were seeing and being seen with each other. We were sleeping together, using each other for physical pleasure. Though looking at her now, he struggled to remember why he'd wanted her physical pleasures. Her breasts were spilling out of the top of her dress. Tacky. Her perfume was overpowering. Her hair was teased and lacquered into place, a crispy mess he had never liked touching. And to think he had actually proposed Noelle to his mother as a wifely substitute for Suzanne. What had he been thinking?
    He looked back toward the center of the atrium, looking for Suzanne. She was nowhere to be seen. That didn't surprise him. She had probably headed straight for the cupcakes. That's all she cared about. She'd be perfectly happy to let him mingle on his own all evening.
    Noelle grabbed his chin and pulled his face back around toward her. Noelle's mouth was moving but he couldn't concentrate on what she was saying. He nodded and smiled at her, while he maneuvered his body around to face the atrium.
    There she was. Even in a crowd, Suzanne stood out. Her hair was twisted into a loose updo, a few escaped strands swimming around her face. She wore a straight black skirt and a cashmere sweater the pale green color of a dinner mint, a shade that was the perfect foil for her auburn hair. His fingers warmed as he remembered the softness of the sweater as he had helped her out of his car earlier. As he watched, she shifted her weight from one leg to the other and the sight of her sleek leg muscles tensing and then relaxing above those slender ankles caused a stirring in his groin.
    She was talking animatedly with a heavyset man with thinning blonde hair. The man turned slightly. Damn, Daryle thought. Brent. Figures she would invite him. Being married to Suzanne clearly meant being married to Brent, too. Maybe he should spring for a nicer suit for Brent, in that case. Uh oh. Brent had spotted him and he looked none too happy. In fact, Brent was now marching straight across the atrium,