Silk and Thorne

by L. K. Rayne

  “Chitchatting, yes. Networking…”

  “But it’s the same thing!”

  “We need to make connections, April, not flirt with the staff.”

  “I do not flirt with them! It’s called having a nice conversation,” she said the words cheerily.

  “You can’t only have ‘nice conversation’ with only the nice looking young men, you know?”

  “I don’t do that on purpose!”

  That was true. April had a natural bubbliness; a type of charm that was hard for guys to ignore. It helped her chat up whoever we were working with, but it made it difficult for her to connect with the ones that mattered. I started in again on my usual talk, “If we can get friendly with the right people, they’ll—”

  “—refer business to us, I know, I know,” April finished, tired of hearing the refrain so often.

  I dropped the topic, tired of it myself.

  After a few moments of silence, April shot me a sly grin. “Is that what you were doing with Mr. Cute Photographer at the wedding last weekend? ‘Getting friendly?’”

  I stared straight ahead at the tops of the cars on the busy highway. “He gave me his business card so it was purely a professional exchange.”

  “A number scribbled on a napkin is so not a business card,” she said.

  I shook my head, trying not to smile. There wasn’t anyone to blame but myself for walking into that one. It was true. William, or “Billy” as he insisted I call him, seemed more interested in me than our flower shop, but enjoying the attention, I had taken his “business card” anyway.

  “I had to be quick before he set his eyes on you,” I teased, thinking on my feet. April was usually the one that got all the male attention, so it was refreshing, and honestly exciting, to get a bit for myself.

  “We’ll see when we get there,” she said cryptically before putting her full attention back on the road. It looked like she had more to say so I waited, but she remained silent, despite the suspicious smile ghosting the corner of her lips.

  Even though I’d never admit it to her, all those hypothetical run ins with Ethan Thorne had wormed their way into my brain. I knew the impossibility of meeting him today. Never mind the logistics, it would be highly unprofessional for a vendor to accost a distinguished guest, especially since the chances of him remembering me were slim to none.

  Nevertheless, I had spent the previous night slipping into one fever dream after another. They were too hazy to remember, but from the recurring motifs of Ethan Thorne’s ruggedly handsome face, a field of baby’s breath, and ragged panting, the theme was clear enough. If my subconscious was sending me a message, as April might say, then it was my duty to make sure that my subconscious did not get its way, universe be damned.

  Not wanting to be accused of thinking too loudly again, I looked out my window at the exit lane which was backed up almost half a mile. At least our lane was still moving even if it’d be another five miles until we got to our exit. Hopefully it wouldn’t look like a bottle neck. We were lucky to have loaded the van and left the shop early enough that there was plenty of time budgeted for the setup once we arrived at the Imperial.

  I was careful to build in ample wiggle room with our delivery schedule so that April wouldn’t feel too rushed handling her first time leading. Hence, the early start. The plan was to get in, do our job—that is, let April do her job with me standing around as backup—then get out. No Ethan involved, and definitely no interviews.

  In fact, April hadn’t mentioned a single thing about her favorite billionaire today which was starting to make me feel nervous. After her prolonged silence, I could almost feel a spot burning into the back of my head as if she had lasers coming out of her eyes.

  There it was. The April I somehow loved and adored. I knew she wouldn’t be able to drop it.

  “Alright,” I said turning to look at her, “now I can hear your voice in my head.”

  She continued looking at the cars ahead innocently. “I didn’t say anything.”

  “Just because I’ve resorted to chatting up wedding photographers at events doesn’t mean that Ethan Thorne is the solution to my dry spell.”

  Instead of responding, April giggled while I sulked.

  “Well?” I asked, “Isn’t that exactly what you were going to say?”

  “I was going to say that you don’t give yourself enough credit,” she looked at me genuinely, “I think it’s cool how you get out there and reel the guys in. But how curious that you were the one who brought up Ethan today. I think we both know what’s on your mind.” She arched an eyebrow expertly, the look she’d been practicing since our college days.

  “Hey, some of us have to work harder than others at getting dates, and the only reason Ethan’s on my mind is because you wouldn’t stop talking about him for weeks.”

  “Nuh-uh!” she whined childishly.

  I chuckled at how silly she sounded. “And you’re making me sound like some kind of predator.”

  “Maybe you are. Maybe you haven’t met the right one yet because all the boys you meet are house cats, and you’re a jungle cat.” April made a Marigold Sunshine tipped claw at me and hissed.

  “Please don’t tell me you’re on another shapeshifter romance binge,” I said. “Because last time, you had to profile every guy we came across by his spirit animal.”

  She grinned. “And I got pretty good at it too, don’t you think? What’s Ethan?”

  “I don’t know, a penguin? Because he wears a lot of suits?”

  “Penguins waddle. Does he strike you as the kind of man who has ‘waddle’ in his repertoire?”

  My silence was answer enough for April.

  “Mmhmm, nope. He saunters. Slides. Stalks.”

  “Um… John Travolta in Grease?” I offered.

  April let a burst of laughter slip. “John Travolta isn’t an animal! Ethan’s totally cool. Controlled. In charge. A predator, like you.” She lowered her voice to a dramatic whisper. “A panther.”

  I tried hard not to roll my eyes. “What, so we’re both big cats now?”

  I didn’t have to search far to see where April had come up with that idea. The flyer for the event laying on the dashboard said that the Conservation Fund was collecting donations for their new Big Cat Wildlife Preserve project.

  “That’s right, and you and I both know what happens when a tasty morsel is dangled in front of a cat.”

  “You get cat scratch fever?”

  “Nooo!” April protested with her whiny voice. After a moment she looked at me sideways, “But you’ll get an entirely different kind of fever alright…wink wink nudge nudge.”

  “I think you’re supposed to do the wink and nudge, not say them.”

  Our laughter almost drowned out the little beeping chirp coming from April’s apron pocket.

  “That might be Giselle,” April said, suddenly focused, “Can you check it for me?”

  I reached inside April’s apron pocket and unlocked her phone.

  OMG ARE YOU HERE YET?

  I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand. It was indeed a text from Giselle Dubois, who was in charge of running the event for the Conservation Fund. We’d become close from my days as an event manager, and nowadays, she still counted on us for flowers. I knew her well enough to know that all caps meant something serious.

  No, be there in 20-30

  The return text was immediate.

  GOOD. TAKE SOUTH ENTRANCE.

  I wanted to ask her why because the north entrance was closer, but she read my mind.

  PIPE BURST. MOVING TO BANQUET CENTER.

  “What is it? What is it?” April asked, bouncing in her seat. “Uh oh, you’re so quiet, it must be bad. Is it Giselle?”

  “Yeah, pipe burst.”

  “What!?” April almost shrieked. “Oh no, poor Giselle! Does this mean I don’t have to network for business cards?”

  I gave her a disapproving look.

  “Okay, okay! Sheesh, just trying to lighte
n the mood!”

  Friendly Help

  The loading dock of the Imperial Grand Hotel was packed with vans, cargo trucks, and a number of golf carts jammed in wherever there was room. From my past life as an event manager, I could tell immediately that setup was going to run overtime. At this rate, the vendors wouldn’t even be able to get all their equipment into the hotel, much less set up in an entirely new room.

  I ran through my mental checklist of damage control as I leaned forward in the passenger seat to get a better view. April pulled in as far as she could, lining up our van behind the other new arrivals. I sucked in a breath of air. "Giselle will need to prioritize moving the larger trucks out of the loading area first so that smaller vehicles can stagger themselves in the—"

  "I can't see her from here,” April interrupted.

  I could only hear her voice dimly as I continued to scan the scene, making quick calculations in my head.

  April craned her neck to try to see past the chaos. “Didn't she say she would meet us in the loading area?"

  "She'll have to assign a couple of staff to shunt traffic to the secondary loading dock," I muttered to myself, “lined up right here to make room for those exiting so that—”

  "Don't get too excited about this mess, you weirdo." April gave me a side eye.

  "I'm just excited we're finally here," I said offhandedly, more so to convince myself than anything.

  “Uh-huh, there’s a difference between mild excitement and freakish exhilaration."

  April was right, I was wrapped up in some sort of weird trance state. I hadn’t realized how much I missed the adrenaline rush of pulling together an event at the last minute.

  I spotted a tall woman wearing a dark pantsuit weaving a golf cart in between the parked trucks.

  “There she is!” I yelled. I unbuckled my seatbelt and whipped it off so fast that the metal could have left a dent in the door. I was almost halfway out of the van before I caught myself. Turning back toward April, I said, “Wait, wait. I did promise to back you up.”

  She flashed me a knowing look.

  "Oh my gosh, get out there and help her already!" she said, trying not to laugh.

  "Are you sure?" I asked, putting a hand on my knee to stop it from bouncing up and down.

  “C’mon, Nev. I know how much you miss the chaos. Besides, Giselle needs you way more right now and if the event’s a disaster, who cares if the flowers are pretty? As the lead on this job, I order you to go help her!” April made an exaggerated shooing motion. “Out out out!”

  "Okay, I'll be back as soon as I can," I said, then jumped out of the van and headed toward the loading dock on foot.

  Giselle spotted me, parked the golf cart, then waved at me to hurry. I scurried over and slid in beside her. “Oh, Sierra!” she said, giving me a quick hug.

  Her back was cold and wet. When I pulled away, I gestured my wet palm at her. “Oh no, did you?”

  “Ugh, yes! I had to move everyone directly impacted by that stoo-pid pipe!” Her French accent always slipped out when she was stressed. “I am so very glad to see you.” A big grin slid across her face. “And early too!”

  “How can I help?”

  Giselle’s eyes softened with relief. “I knew you’d ask.”

  Wet Silk

  The next couple of hours flashed by in a blur as Giselle and I wrangled the vendors and their equipment into the smaller area of the Banquet Center, printed out new signs directing the guests, and put out various other last minute fires. Giselle and I had worked closely so often in the past that it was easy for me to slip into the old role.

  By the time we were finished, I was glad that I’d chosen to wear my comfortable pair of black flats. Giselle took it from there while I returned to the loading area to look for April. Hopefully she was doing okay by herself.

  I saw our van up ahead with the big yellow sunflower on the side and hustled over quickly. I heard April’s voice coming from the back of the van and slowed down. She obviously had company.

  “No no, thank you,” April said in a perky tone. “Like I said before, I really don’t need any help.”

  I caught sight of April first. She had tied her hair in a half-ponytail so it wouldn’t get in her way but her bottom curls were still bouncing playfully around her shoulders.

  When I got closer I saw a lanky young man with a buzzcut leaning against our van. He was wearing the formal white attire of one of the wait staff, so he should’ve been inside setting up for the guests, but what really got me was that one of his grubby hands was propped up on our van door.

  “But what if you dirty your lovely dress?” the young man said, raising his eyebrow in what he imagined was a sexy expression.

  Clearly, April’s hints that she wasn’t interested had gone way over his head. Not only was he slacking off when he should’ve been doing his job, but he was also preventing April from doing hers. Irritation rose in my chest but I deliberately slowed my step so I wouldn’t end up tackling him. Giselle probably wanted all of her wait staff uninjured, especially with everything going on.

  “I’m used to working in dresses,” April replied politely.

  “I bet they all look great on you with those legs,” he said.

  April, still polite, said, “I'm sorry, I really do need to finish setting these up.”

  “Oh of course, here,” he insisted, “let me help.”

  The last thing we needed tonight were some inexperienced hands handling our vases. I took a deep breath so that I wouldn’t end up doing something I would regret, and stood there for a moment, unnoticed by the two of them, before I couldn’t take it anymore.

  I stepped out suddenly right between the guy and April. “Didn't you hear her?” I asked.

  He turned to me in shock, clearly flustered by my sudden appearance, “Uh—”

  “Get out of here, kid,” I jerked my thumb over my shoulder, “The guests will be arriving any second.”

  April shot me an amused look, surprised but pleased that I was back.

  The guy blubbered, looking to her for support. She studied her Marigold Sunshine nails, suddenly finding them fascinating.

  I took another step toward the waiter. He looked like the type that would need clear instructions, possibly paired with a threat. “I'm sure Giselle would be interested in learning which of the wait staff missed the all hands meeting...Todd," I said, looking pointedly at his name tag. "Now scram.”

  The guy blanched and scuttled away without another look back.

  “He would’ve gone away eventually,” April said with a sigh, “but I appreciate it Nev. Thanks. I can’t believe you called him ‘kid.’” She chuckled.

  “Come on,” I said, “I'll help you wrap up.”

  But there were only two lonely crates left in the back of the van.

  “Looks like you didn't need me at all!” I said, admiring her handiwork. “You’re a beast!”

  April let out a hooting laugh. “Better believe it! This girl is on fire!”

  I laughed too, relieved to see that April was having a good time despite the stressful situation. While we took the service elevator up to the hall leading to the Banquet Center, April updated me on her progress with setup and I told her how things had gone with Giselle. We were both in a pretty good mood since the event was now back on track and I felt way better knowing that April had her end under control.

  I set the crates down in the corner and started to unpack the vases from the protective straw. At the opposite corner of the room, we could see a few early guests starting to filter in, but it wasn’t a big deal considering the pipe disaster had been taken care of. Ideally, we would’ve been done with the flowers and out of there by now, but given what Giselle and I had to work with, I was pretty happy with how things had turned out.

  The casino tables were organized neatly, with the dealers ready to entertain the guests. Cocktail tables were scattered in between the casino games for the guests to stand around and mingle. The open bar was ready to go
at the end of the room, and most of the floral arrangements were tastefully placed, despite the layout changes, courtesy of April.

  "Alright, so where do you want these, Ms. Santos?" I teased.

  April had a vase tucked in each elbow, both arms full. She tilted her head to the center table, “Large one there,” she swung her head to the right, “and the small one there.”

  April went to place her vases in the far corner of the room where there were a pair of matching tables.

  I set the small arrangement down on the corner table, then went to put the larger one on the center table. Once I placed the coral-themed arrangement down, I fussed with a few of the green hypericum berries that were a little too tightly bunched.

  When I leaned back to inspect the overall arrangement, there, across the room, were a pair of dark intense eyes staring directly at me.

  I ducked behind the flowers, a clench of panic gripping my heart.

  Those eyes could not have belonged to anyone else but Ethan Thorne.

  I could hear April’s soft voice in my head singing, “You look away but you can’t help yourself so you shyly sneak another glance...and that’s when it happens.”

  Eyes meeting from across the room as I put the flowers down? You had to be joking. April just made that up. The last minute scramble must’ve exhausted me and set my imagination working overdrive, making me see things that weren’t there.

  I slowly exhaled and straightened, pretending like I was still studying the flower arrangement, but I couldn’t help a more purposeful glance past the bouquet. My eyes locked on the other end of the room.

  Well, I hadn’t been mistaken about one thing.

  Ethan Thorne had arrived.

  He stood greeting the small throng of people who had gathered around him, shaking hands with a soft smile. The hairs on the back of my neck were still standing, but Ethan hadn’t made eye contact earlier. He had been looking around the room the same way politicians did, making sure everyone felt seen.

  Secure in the knowledge that he hadn’t spotted me, I stopped sneaking glances and studied him openly. So many years had passed that he never would’ve recognized me anyway.