Party of Two (The Wedding Date #5)
Jasmine Guillory
About the Book
It’s the whirlwind affair that has everyone talking . . .
Dating is the last thing on Olivia Monroe’s mind when she moves to LA to start her own law firm. An entire night of flirting with a gorgeous man at a hotel bar could change her mind though – until she discovers that he’s hotshot junior senator Max Powell.
Max’s determination to win Olivia over proves him to be sweet, funny, and noble – not just some privileged white politician she assumed him to be. Dating in secret is fun at first, but when they finally go public, the intense media scrutiny results in the exposure of Olivia’s rocky past, criticism of her job, and questions about her suitability as a trophy girlfriend.
Olivia knows what she has with Max is special, but is it strong enough to survive the heat of the spotlight?
To Simi Patnaik and Nicole Clouse
You two are worth all the champagne and fries in the world.
Chapter One
Olivia Monroe sat down at the hotel bar and grinned at the bartender, who grinned back. Thank God for a friendly face after such a long day.
She’d almost gone straight to her room to put on one of those cozy hotel robes and order room service to eat on her bed, but what she wanted more than anything tonight was a huge pile of french fries and an ice-cold martini, and she knew from experience that room service was the least optimal way to get both of those things. Fries always arrived soggy and martinis never arrived chilled enough. Better to get the best version of both and a conversation with Krystal the bartender that had nothing to do with intellectual property or law.
“Hendrick’s martini, two olives?” Krystal asked her, already filling the cocktail shaker with ice. Olivia had been staying in this hotel for a week now, ever since she’d packed all of her worldly belongings and flown out to L.A. to start this new chapter in her life.
“Yes please.” Olivia slipped off her blazer. “And a Caesar salad and a large order of fries.”
“You got it. How was work today? You look like you’ve earned this martini.”
Olivia laughed and twisted her mass of dark curly hair up into a knot on top of her head.
“Well, I left the hotel at eight this morning, and I’m just getting back now at . . .” She checked her watch. “Nine at night, so yes, I’ve earned that martini. But I’ve had worse twelve-hour days.”
Much worse, actually. After years of considering it, she’d moved from New York to L.A., and she and her friend Ellie had formed their own law firm: Monroe & Spencer. Olivia had spent the last month anxious she’d made the wrong decision, about both the move and starting a new firm. She was still terrified about that—so much so that she’d woken up at four a.m. the night before and worried for an hour. But, God, she’d loved every minute of her workday today. She’d been on an adrenaline high from the moment she walked into the office that morning—hell, from the moment her plane had landed last week. She was thrilled to be back in California, it was great to have Ellie as her partner, and it felt incredible to be her own boss, finally, after all these years.
When her martini arrived, she raised it to Krystal in thanks, and silently toasted herself. She took a sip and smiled. Perfect.
She inhaled her salad and half of her fries as soon as they arrived, and realized she couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten. Oh right, Ellie had handed her some sort of green smoothie at eleven a.m. when they left for a meeting together, and Olivia had laughed at her. Ellie had been in L.A. ever since law school graduation, so she did things like drink green smoothies and go to seven a.m. yoga classes before she got into the office. The smoothie was terrible; no wonder Olivia had eaten those fries so fast. As it was, the gin plus all of that adrenaline from their meetings and calls today had left her feeling very euphoric. Maybe she should eat something else.
She waved Krystal over and asked for the dessert menu. Chocolate cake, that’s what she needed right now. A big slice of chocolate layer cake. Ooh, or apple pie, warm, with a big scoop of ice cream on the side. That would also hit the spot.
Krystal hesitated before she handed her the dessert menu.
“There’s a new pastry chef here, and . . . well, at least the cookies are good.”
Olivia scanned the list and shook her head.
“What is all of this?” she asked Krystal. “I understand that pastry chefs need to feel like they’re expressing their emotions in their pastry or whatever, but why are all of these desserts so incomprehensible and confusing? Basil ice cream? I don’t want herbs in my dessert!” Krystal laughed at that, which only inspired Olivia to keep going. “Deconstructed banana cream pie? What even is that, a banana just rolling back and forth on a plate, with some whipped cream on the side? A cookie plate? I don’t want a cookie plate! What happened to a nice layer cake? Chocolate, or carrot, or for the love of God, yellow cake with chocolate frosting? Everyone loves yellow cake with chocolate frosting! Or a delicious pie—an actual one, not any deconstructed nonsense. Apple pie, or chocolate mousse pie, or my favorite, strawberry rhubarb—the whole world would come here for dessert if you had those things!”
“I could not agree with you more.”
Olivia glanced over at the guy a few seats down who had chimed in on her rant. White dude, far too attractive, baseball cap, jeans, blue T-shirt, expression on his face like he thought he was hot shit. She rolled her eyes and turned back to Krystal, who was still laughing.