“Or…you come here, and we start our own business. And before you say no,” Poppy said quickly, opening her second laptop and swiveling the screen to face Daisy, “I’ve been putting together some numbers and specs. I think we could rock our own event planning company here in NYC. You’re always saying how much you miss the city—and me.”

Daisy had absolutely loved New York. A lot. Going across the country at eighteen had freed her from a rough family life and upbringing. It’d given her an education. A different view of the world than her previous narrowed one. But…she loved being back in San Francisco, too. “Poppy…”

“Wait,” Poppy said quickly, holding up a hand. “Don’t say no off the cuff. Just promise you’ll think about it?”

“I will if you promise to think about doing exactly as you’ve just said but here in San Francisco.”

Poppy bit her lower lip, clearly thinking and thinking hard. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. You make me a proposal for San Fran, and I’ll finish making mine for NYC. But, FYI, mine’s going to be irresistible.”

Daisy laughed, but it faded quickly when she heard her boss coming. “Gotta go,” she whispered and disconnected just in time.

Carol swept into the room. “Did you get the two new client portfolios I sent over? What do you think? Have you contacted them yet? And start a prelim report.”

Daisy checked her email. They’d literally just come in three minutes ago. “Uh—"

Carol’s brows rose. “Do I need to put Melinda on the job?”

Melinda was Daisy’s nemesis. “Nope, I’ve got it.”

“Great,” Carol said and strode out.

Daisy leaned forward and thunked her head on the desk. After a moment, she went back to work and didn’t surface for hours, not until her personal cell phone buzzed. She looked over at it and grimaced.

DO NOT ANSWER was calling…

Yesterday after the cake tasting fiasco, which was how she referred to that holy cow kiss they’d shared after the actual cake testing, she’d changed Diego’s name in her contacts to DO NOT ANSWER.

Just to remind herself.

Plus, it’d been her way of taking control of her tumbling reactions to him. And there were many: regrets, resentment, desire, hunger… It was shocking how just one touch of his incredible mouth had set her emotional maturity back an entire decade.

And he was calling her. Why? She thought of how he’d melted her with his mouth and blew out a breath. She’d never been able to ignore him. So, she answered. “Yes?”

There was a brief pause before he said, “Do you always answer your phone in that irritated-as-all-hell voice, or is that just for me?”

If her voice was irritated as all hell, his was not. It was low, husky, and achingly familiar, and it caused all sorts of reactions inside her body—including weak knees, which really pissed her off.

She was over him.

She was over him.

She was over him.