Patrice Lyle - Health Nut 01 - Killer Kung Pao Read Online Free Page B

my side?"
    He did this snorty thing he does whenever he gets annoyed. "You and your be-on-my - side - for-once campaign. You're getting all worked up over nothing. It's not going to kill you to be at a psychic show for one weekend."
    With the looks of that psychic surgeon's sign, I wasn't sure.
    But that so wasn't the point.
    I leaned forward in my seat, thoroughly annoyed with him. "I paid good money to be here because I'm trying to market my Health Nuts Rock book, and a psychic fair isn't my target audience."
    He stayed quiet, and I knew why. He thought my book was trite.
    And he hated the title.
    "Whatever, Floyd."
    "Look on the bright side. If you're surrounded by a bunch of new age loopy loos, I bet one of them will have some carob snacks."
    My stomach clenched while he launched into another anti-chocolate tirade. Why hadn't I let the phone go to voice mail? His hatred for my favorite food (dark chocolate was a food group in my book!) was another reason why, for the past week, I'd been avoiding him like gluten and dairy. Well, and the fact that he'd proposed.
    Yes. Dr. Floyd Fowler, ND, had, unfortunately, proposed.
    To moi .
    An image of the one-carat, marquise solitaire he'd presented to me popped into my mind, and I flinched. Ever since a fitness magazine quiz revealed I was pear shaped , I'd hated pear-shaped diamonds. I mean, who needed a daily reminder?
    A princess-cut diamond engagement ring was my dream, but how could I tell him without revealing my deep-seated reasons for being anti-marquise? No man would understand my pear-shaped drama. Or at least Floyd wouldn't.
    The sequins on my shoes twinkled beneath the overhead lighting. So pretty. My mind wandered to a question that had plagued me for months. Why did Floyd want to marry me? Pure stye avoidance? 
    "You still there, Piper?"
    "Yep." I glanced at my ringless hand and wondered what he'd done with the pear-shaped diamond monstrosity when I'd said I had to sleep on it. But I didn't dare ask.
    "Maybe you can create a line of organic carob snacks?"
    I shut my eyes and counted the number of Sparkle O eyeliners I owned. When I got to twenty-three, I stopped. And took a big breath. I hated carob and was convinced a masochist had invented it. Carob was to chocolate what a fake Coach purse was to the real thing. Sometimes imitation wasn't the sincerest form of flattery.
    It was just wrong.
    "You could bake carob fudge. Carob lava cake. Everything you could make with chocolate, but without the caffeine." Floyd's voice rose past its normal, drab doctor tone. "Carob mousse, carob chip cookies. Oh, what about carob babka?"
    What was next? A carob-tini?
    "Floyd, carob doesn't boost serotonin levels, like chocolate. And the caffeine's minimal, unless you're talking raw cacao." I was so over this conversation.
    But apparently he wasn't.
    "We could call the line Piper's Carob Confections and sell the treats at my family's practice when you come on board." His tone brimmed with unbridled carob-enthusiasm. "Our patients would love it."
    That was another thing to add to my Top Ten Billion Reasons Not to Become Mrs. Floyd Fowler, ND list. His snobbery over my Health Nuts Rock clinic.
    Enough was enough. "You know I can't give up my practice. I've worked too hard, and I'll never give up dark chocolate either. It cemented my belief in natural health. That's huge."
    "Cute story, but you're not a teenybopper at the mall anymore." Floyd's sarcasm sent a shiver up my spine. "You're a naturopathic doctor, and soon to be a leader in the natural health field." He cleared his throat, probably to avoid adding, and soon to be my wife . "Mainstream chocolate's full of sugar and caffeine and goes against everything we stand for."
    "I don't eat mainstream chocolate, Floyd. I only eat organic dark chocolate."
    "Still has sugar in it." He sounded like a kid who'd just tattled on me.
    Irritation sizzled in my gut, or maybe it was the spicy turkey sausage I'd had for breakfast. But either way, how