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him.”
    “Neither did you,” she laughed. “Not with spending most of the meeting fawning over the wedding planner.”
    “Daniel Green.”
    “Aaaaaah.”
    Owen wrinkled his nose in her direction. “‘Aaaaaah’ because I know his name? That’s just good manners.”
    Naomi put her hand over her mouth and giggled obnoxiously.
    “He seems quite nice,” Owen recited, redirecting his gaze to the tiny window and a view of brick wall.
    “And attractive,” Naomi added, hands back on her bump. She began to massage one side, which meant her muscles were starting to hurt.
    “I hadn’t noticed,” he said boldly, chin up.
    Naomi snorted. “Nice, attractive. Single?”
    Owen shifted in his seat and played with his pocket square for a moment. “I think so, given some of the things he said. I didn’t ask directly.”
    “When you have dinner with Mr. Valios and his fiancé, you should ask, and then you should give him a call.”
    “I will give him a call.” Owen looked her straight in the eye. “When we set up the schedule for filming. Because otherwise, that would be… highly inappropriate.”
    “Victor slept with the last wedding planner and the groom’s sister,” she said with a shrug. “This wouldn’t be more inappropriate than that.”
    Owen felt a weight in the pit of his stomach. He knew Naomi meant no harm with her statement; they were old friends, and she just wanted him to be happy—and she knew his happiness was in short supply these days.
    But no. No. If it was something Victor would do, he wanted no part of it.
    “I’m not Victor,” he said, the words barely out of his mouth before Naomi looked over his shoulder with widened eyes.
    “No, you’re not, thank God” came a voice from behind him.
    Owen turned in his seat to find Victor standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. He had a smirk that boded none too well for the rest of Owen’s day.
    “Let’s talk about the wedding planner.”
    “He’s a little short,” Victor said as they walked back to their shared office.
    Owen trailed just a few steps behind, schooling his face into something bored and disinterested as years of modeling had taught him. “This isn’t the Rockettes, Victor. Everyone doesn’t have to be the same height.”
    “Yes, but he’s also very… plain-looking. Too corporate. Ander is flash and drama, his husband-to-be has European flair, and then we have Tiny Ted the accountant in the background, picking out linens and sucking all the life from the shot.” He paused, then turned around, annoyance on his face. “It’s going to be boring as shit. I need someone to rev Ander up, not convince him to be sensible.”
    “ Daniel ”—Owen put emphasis on the name—“is also Ander’s best friend and the best man. You aren’t going to get him replaced.”
    Victor’s thin lips reformed into a grin. “I wouldn’t put my money on that. A few dinners with Ander, a little charm—we’ll be able to relegate Danny to the wedding episode and maybe a few background shots. I’ll call Rhonda at BlissMaker, have her on standby.”
    A burst of anger shot through Owen, but he wasn’t going to raise his voice. He wasn’t going to throw Victor through the wall as every little thing built up to a rage he wanted to let out before it burned him up.
    He wasn’t.
    Owen swallowed his irritation and willed his voice to be pitched low and quiet. “Victor, you are not going to manipulate anyone. This is a wedding; this is a real relationship and real bonds of friendship. Let me… let me see what I can do with Daniel.”
    Victor scoffed. “If he stays, he needs a makeover. And to be seen, not heard.”
    Owen counted backward from fifty. “I can—”
    “Make him pretty and keep him distracted. Let me decide what makes for good television. That isn’t your job or your strong suit.”
    “This is my company too,” Owen snapped, then flinched as Victor’s face went splotchy red with anger.
    “Thanks so much for the