The Wedding Date Disaster (Harbor City 4)

Chapter One

Hadley Donavan was going to murder her best friend’s evil twin brother.

Okay, not really murder, but there wasn’t a jury who would convict her if she did. The man was just that awful. Too full of himself. Too obviously hot. Too rich. Too everything that gave the city’s most eligible billionaire bachelor Will Holt an ego the size of Toledo and a hard-on for purposefully ruining Hadley’s day every time he spotted her.

Well, not today, Satan.

Tonight was too important for his stupid games. For the past two years, she’d worked her tail off at Kittsen & Sons Charitable Advisors just to get a chance to guide a minor client as they positioned their charitable foundation for the next level. Now, all of that overtime at the office, missed brunches with friends, and sleepless nights staring at the ceiling and wondering what she’d missed had come to fruition with tonight’s event. There was no way she was going to let Will mess it up.

Her gaze narrowed on his too-wide shoulders as he walked into the Harbor City Grand Hotel ballroom like he owned the place. Well, he did, but that was completely beside the point. He may have snuck past security—or more likely gotten in with a quick hey-do-you-know-who-I-am—but he was not on the guest list and he was not staying. Period.

The half-a-size-too-small shoes she’d borrowed from her roommate pinched her toes as she hustled around the people on the crowded dance floor, but by the time she made it across, her prey had disappeared.

Standing off to the side of the stage, she ground her teeth as she scanned the crowd for Mr. Obnoxious.

Seriously, how hard could it be to spot the one man at a black-tie fundraiser in jeans and a hoodie like a Silicon billionaire instead of the Harbor City trust-fund baby he was? Pretty damn hard, considering everywhere she looked, it was tuxes and ball gowns. She sighed. He was here somewhere, and she would find him and kick him out on his billionaire ass, mark her words.

Keeping her eyes peeled for the evil twin, E.T. for short, Hadley checked in on the support staff who really made tonight work. The waiters, bartenders, cooks, security, registration attendants, and more were the engine that made any fundraiser go. As a charitable-giving consultant, she pulled all the pieces together for a fundraising event, but at the actual event it was a great support staff who made it all come together. Sadly, it wasn’t until she’d finished her rounds before she spotted him again, by the coat check this time and looking over the crowd as if he were searching for a gazelle to separate from the pack.

Gotcha.

The safety pins on her size-too-big-but-it-was-on-sale-seventy-five-percent-off-so-she’d-make-it-work dress from ten seasons ago poked her in the ribs (because if it was too big everywhere else, it was definitely ginormous around her basically nonexistent boobs), but she ignored the pain as she fast-walked-without-looking-it across the ballroom because she had a bigger prick to deal with.

Will Holt.

Her bestie—and in a twist of fate that showed just how much of a sense of humor God had, Will’s identical twin brother, Web—was not here.

That meant Will was here for her. Well, not for her, more like to torment her on the biggest night of her career, the one that would make or break her chances of promotion to bigger accounts, and thus really making a difference in the world.

Advancing on him like a guided missile, Hadley glued an almost-friendly smile on her face and girded herself for battle.

“What are you doing here?” she hiss-whispered as soon as they were shoulder to shoulder on the edge of the dance floor.

He snagged a mini bruschetta from a passing waiter. “Enjoying the hors d’oeuvres and charming company, obviously.”

Oh yeah, she believed that about as much as she believed her outrageous Harbor City rent was going to pay for itself. “You weren’t invited.”

“Yet here I am.” He popped the bruschetta into his mouth and picked up two champagne flutes from the tray of another passing waiter, keeping one for himself and handing her the other. “Just like you and last week’s rugby game.”

She accepted the glass, suppressing the shiver of distaste when their fingers brushed—that was the only explanation for the way her heartbeat kicked up at the slight touch—and took a calm and dignified sip of the high-priced bubbly. It wasn’t like she could throw the drink in his face, considering they were both faking being nice in a room full of some of the biggest philanthropists and gossips in Harbor City. A word here or there from any of them could devastate her reputation and ability to—eventually—start her own charitable-giving consulting firm. He knew it. She knew it. They were both playing their parts while seething on the inside.

“I went to the rugby game so I could cheer on Web.” It was the same answer she’d given him a million times already. What was it with this guy that he couldn’t accept that she and his brother were besties?

“When he h

asn’t even played for the last few games because his ankle was acting up? How very”—he paused, clinking his glass against hers—“friendly of you.”

She sputtered something that barely even qualified as syllables, heat smacking against her cheeks. It was their standing weekly friend date. She and Web always had brunch after. She liked watching rugby. It was interesting. That’s it. There was no other reason for her to go watch the games, definitely not the fact that Will played on the team, too.