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An Event to Remember. . .or Forget (Event to Remember Series Book 1)

Page 9

by Baldwin, Melissa


  While he is busy with the salesperson, I wander around the store. As I’m looking, I come across a familiar item. There on the shelf is the nameplate that Luke gave me for our anniversary. I pick up the item and examine it closely. I try to ignore the price tag because the cost doesn’t matter. Let’s just say it’s about one-tenth the price of the watch I gave him. I feel so guilty for looking that I quickly put it back.

  “Everything alright?” Ace asks after he walks over to me. He must sense my disappointment.

  “Everything is fine,” I reply, forcing a smile. “Are you all set?

  “Yes! This was the perfect gift. It’s almost like you know my mum. I am still really embarrassed at how long I was walking around looking for something. I almost broke down and bought a gift card, and she really dislikes gift cards. She says that anyone can go buy a gift card, but what really matters is the time that goes into finding the gift.”

  “That is true. She sounds wonderful, and I’m happy I could help.”

  “She is an amazing person, and I know she would love you.” He smiles and our eyes meet again.

  I know this is a sign that I need to leave. This really needs to stop happening with us. “I better get back to work. We have a big meeting for the charity event this afternoon.”

  “Oh, that reminds me. I have met with John. We are moving forward with the sponsorship.”

  “That’s fantastic. Thank you so much for doing that.”

  “Before you go.” He stops me. “I wanted to apologize again for last night. I think it is safe to say that we are attracted to each other. I’m sorry to be so forward, but I want to address it so we can move on from it. We both know nothing will come from this, so again I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

  Wow. How do I respond to that?

  “I appreciate that, Ace. You are absolutely right.” I hesitate for a few seconds.

  “I’m so glad! No more awkward moments. Deal?” He sticks out his hand to shake mine.

  “Deal.”

  We walk toward the exit and chat for a few more minutes. I do feel a small sense of relief that we were finally open with each other regarding our attraction. Now we can move forward as business associates without any more awkward encounters. I’m really glad that is over with, I think. Well, maybe.

  When I get back to the office both Craig and Nicole are hard at work, and there is no mention of Carrie and her alleged scandalous affair.

  When the Cantons arrive, we are on top of our game. It goes better than I had hoped it would, and we are almost done with everything. The final step is waiting for the files from the editor to send for printing. The printing includes programs, pledge cards, and auction cards, which we have to oversee. I admit I am a tiny bit stressed about that part as that is out of my hands. I try not to worry; I’m sure it will go off without a hitch.

  There was a moment when Mrs. Canton asked why Carrie did not attend the meeting. Thankfully, Nicole stepped up to the plate with an elaborate story about Carrie attending a conference in New York. She even added in some details about some flight issues, weather, and restaurants. Even I got caught up in the story for a few minutes. Later, I asked her if she created that, or if Carrie had coached her. That was all her, which was quite impressive.

  After they leave, I’m on cloud nine. My meltdown from the morning is a distant memory. The biggest event of my career is coming together perfectly, and I’m getting closer to being on my own. I even forgot all about running into Ace at the mall earlier. I sit down in my office and pull out my to-do list:

  Outfit for Lucinda party

  Meeting with the Cantons

  Follow up on my website

  Research the venues Becky sent to me

  Becky and Travis want to have a New Year’s Eve wedding. We are a little over nine months out, so I need to get a location booked as soon as possible. I am so excited to plan this one; my creativity is flowing and the possibilities are endless. I don’t want to get ahead of myself because Madison’s is first, and I still have to get through the next few weeks, and then the transition.

  I call Luke a little while later.

  “Hey. I’m free if you still want to grab dinner.”

  “Sure. Let’s meet at Gino’s in thirty minutes.”

  We haven’t been to Gino’s in forever; we actually had our second date there. It’s a family-owned Italian restaurant, and I have had them cater a few of our events. Their food is amazing, but I make sure to add spinning class to my list for tomorrow. It’s mandatory after eating at Gino’s.

  Luke is all fired up about a client they lost today. I tell him all about our meeting with the Cantons.

  “You are going to be in town two weeks from Saturday, right?” I ask firmly. “I need you here that weekend.” I remind him again. I don’t know if remind is an accurate description of what I’m doing, more like relentless nagging about Faith, Fashion, and Hope. I know it gets on his nerves, but I have learned from experience that when he is really busy at work, he tends to forget things.

  “Sienna, I promise you. I will be there.”

  His phone starts ringing, and he jumps about fifty feet.

  “I have to take this. I’ll be right back.” He hurries to the front door. I can see him pacing in front of the glass windows.

  “Honey, I’m sorry, I have to go back to the office. I have to help Lance with a crisis before we fly out tomorrow morning. I really am sorry.” We just got our food, and he asks the server for a box.

  “Really, can’t Lance handle it until you finish eating?” I reply while rolling my eyes.

  “I know, I know. I love you, and I will call you after we arrive tomorrow.” He kisses me and gives me a warm, hurried hug.”

  “Love you.” I start to box up my food and head home.

  I wake up at 3:00 a.m. after a horrible nightmare. It’s a serving nightmare, and they are the worst. I haven’t waited tables in years, but I still have these dreams occasionally. In this particular dream, I have five tables that all sit at one time and want to order at the same time. Carrie is at one of the tables, and she had a plastic surgery procedure that makes her look like a clown. I’m trying to get into the kitchen to get the food and to escape Carrie the clown. Ace and Luke are blocking the door to the kitchen. They are yelling at me to choose between them. I wake up in a cold sweat, screaming. I get up, turn on the TV, and make some hot chocolate. I try not to read much into it. I remind myself that it’s just a dream.

  The next morning I make it to spin class after a few weeks’ hiatus. It was mandatory after eating Gino’s for dinner, and several of Madison’s emergency cookie stash at 3:00 a.m. The day goes rather quick, and we only had one moment of panic after Carrie called saying that three of her guests had not received invitations to the party. Thankfully, Craig produced the guest list that Carrie had sent, and those names were not on the list. She actually made Nicole contact them to apologize and take the blame. After this incident, I know that Nicole’s days are numbered at Carrie’s Classic Events and More. I saw her updating her resume this afternoon, so I predict Carrie crashing and burning in the coming weeks. However, I’m not even sure she would care.

  Saturday comes quickly after a few busy days. Craig and I go to Venice early in the day to set up our VIP area. As promised, they roped off a nice space for the party, a perfect location near the band on a slightly raised area just off the dance floor. I am sure most of Carrie’s guests will not be dancing. They will be trying to impress each other and partake in a lot of alcoholic beverages. Her three closest friends, or sorority sisters as we call them, would make a perfect Ex-Housewives of Southern California cast. None of them are married anymore, but the checks keep coming, and so do their “younger” boyfriends. I’m not sure what most of these men see in them other than their bank accounts?

  I confirm the guest list and leave it with the check-in desk. Hopefully Carrie remembered to add everyone that she had invited. We are ready to roll, so I run home to get ready for the ev
ening.

  When I get home, Madison is in the kitchen, and she is baking.

  “Hi, what are you doing home?”

  “Hey, I’m making some cookies for Cole’s cousin. She’s been asking me forever. By the way, what happened to the emergency stash?” she asks curiously.

  “That would be a three a.m. serving nightmare. I was stress eating,” I reply.

  “Oh no, those are the worst! I haven’t had one in a while.” Madison and I both waited tables for years, so she knows exactly what I am talking about.

  “I thought you were going to tell me it had something to do with your love triangle. After yesterday’s breakdown, I wasn’t surprised that the stash is mostly depleted.” Great. She thinks I have completely lost it now, so I need to do some damage control.

  “HA-HA, you are a funny girl. I’m not in a love triangle. I totally blame PMS, and you know I never cry like that. I actually ran into Ace again the other day at Nordstrom. He was searching for a present for his mom. We briefly discussed our mutual attraction, but we both agreed that is all it is, and we made a deal to have no more awkward moments. So, thankfully, that’s over,” I lie pretty convincingly.

  “Really?” Madison asks. “Are you OK with that? I mean, I watched you guys when we were leaving Venice. It was pretty intense.”

  “Oh, don’t get me wrong, I do find him extremely attractive, but I love Luke, and I’m one hundred percent committed to him. Ace will be a great friend to have because he knows people literally all around the world. I have every intention to stay friends with him. For the sake of my career, of course.”

  “Alright. If you’re sure.” I can tell she thinks I am out of my mind, but it wouldn’t be the first time.

  “Do you want to go out tonight? Cole has a show.”

  “Can’t. I have an event,” I say, checking my phone. “Carrie is hosting a birthday party for her friend Lucinda in the VIP section at Venice,” I add excitedly.

  “Which one is Lucinda again?”

  “She’s the one who claims to be related to the royal family and uses a fake British accent,” I say, laughing. One night I overheard her on her phone at an event cursing like a sailor, and she did not have the accent. She saw me and tried to cover it up. Now every time she sees me, she pretends like she has never met me before. In her defense, she usually has had several cocktails by the time I run into her.

  “Oh ya. I can never keep those old sorority women straight. Who are the others?” Madison asks.

  “Gwendolyn, Elizabeth, Lucinda, and Carrie, of course. Remember that night you helped me with that dinner party at Carrie’s home? That was one of the best nights EVER!”

  “Oh my gosh!” she yells. “Yes! They kept calling me the server girl, and Elizabeth’s boyfriend who was young enough to be her son was hitting on me the whole night.” We both start laughing hysterically. Madison got caught making out with him in the coat closet and was asked to leave. That was shortly after I started working for Carrie. After that, Carrie told me that I could not have any assistants work any event without clearing it through her first. She was definitely more involved in the business back then.

  “I have to go get ready. On a side note, did you want me to set up the cake tasting for next week?”

  “Yes, Cole asked if we could do Wednesday evening?” she replies, putting two more cookie sheets into the oven. The first batch smells so damn good. I absolutely can’t mess up my no sugar rule again. I guess there is one positive of not living with Madie; her evil cookies will no longer tempt me. I will probably lose ten pounds the first few days. I guess there is a bright side to my new living arrangement.

  I take my time getting ready. Carrie will call out any of us in front of the whole party if there is something she doesn’t approve of. Believe it or not, I really am excited to go tonight; these events are never dull, and watching the sisters in action is like watching a movie and getting paid for it. Gwendolyn and Lucinda will name drop very loudly so that everyone can hear, and they obviously have an ongoing, life-long competition with each other. Lucinda will drink A LOT of cocktails first and then circulate the room with her fake British accent. Carrie will sit in one spot in the middle of the room and wait for people to approach her, and they always do. Craig calls it her throne, and her crowd still worships her even though she has a horrible reputation. There’s a part of me who will miss this train wreck group of friends.

  A few hours later, I arrive at Venice to meet Craig. I am wearing a black-and-white shift dress and boots. My outfit is practical enough for work, but trendy enough for Venice. Craig is straightening tablecloths and talking to servers. Nicole is also there, pacing nervously. She especially hates Carrie’s personal events because most of the guests know her as Carrie’s personal slave.

  Most of the guests will be arriving within the next hour. I verify again with the front desk that if there are any problems with the guest list to call me on my headset. I have learned my lesson numerous times that there is always some drama with her guest lists. The restaurant is starting to fill up, and other non-guests are pointing and talking about our roped off VIP area. I know they are expecting it to be some A-list celebrity party. It’s too bad for them that it’s just a bunch of washed-up wannabes who think they are important. There is always PRESS at Venice, so I hope they catch some of their nonsense on camera and send it to the tabloids. Craig waves me over a few minutes later.

  “What’s up?” I ask, hurrying over to him.

  “I totally forgot to tell you, Carrie booked another excursion with her mystery person; she’s having a car take her somewhere right after the party. We have to find out more,” he says eagerly.

  “Are you serious right now? We have an event starting any minute, and you want to gossip?”

  “Sienna, this is good information to have. We may even be able to use it IF Carrie tries to pull anything when we leave.” I let out a huge sigh. Not this again. Craig has been a little concerned about Carrie trying to sue us when we leave. I have reminded him that we do not have contracts, and we are free to go where we want at any time. Regardless, Carrie has almost nothing to do with this company, and we do all the work. Just then, I notice a few guests arriving.

  “We’ll talk about this later; it’s show time!” I tell him and head to the entrance to greet our guests.

  Once again, this crowd does not disappoint. We have had two people threaten our jobs because they were left off the guest list. I verified with Carrie before I escorted them in, and she insisted that she asked Nicole to add them to the list. Poor Nicole needs a Valium or two after Carrie’s tirade, and then Gwendolyn asked her to drive to her home to make sure her dog is sleeping well.

  Lucinda drinks about five martini’s and asks me how long I have been working for Carrie, and then welcomes me with her proper British greeting. The best part so far is when Lucinda’s birthday cake is brought out, and it says “Happy 35th Birthday.” Clearly, she is in her late fifties, but I am pretty sure that all actual proof has been destroyed.

  Otherwise, the night is running smoothly, and I finally have a chance to check my phone when I see Ace walking over to me. Crap.

  “Hey stranger. We have to stop meeting like this,” he says, smiling.

  “Yes, we do. Are you following me?” I say jokingly.

  “I wish I was. Remember, I am new in town, and this establishment is my family hang out. What is all of this?” he asks, pointing to the velvet ropes and décor.

  “This is a nightmare,” I say, pointing over my shoulder. “Actually, it is a birthday party for one of Carrie’s friends. She has a very entertaining guest list, as I’m sure you can see.” Just then, Craig is calling me over my headset.

  “Excuse me a second please,” I tell Ace.

  “What’s up, Craig, everything alright?” I say into my microphone.

  “I think the question is what are YOU doing over there? I’m watching you.” I look around and see him wave at me from the corner.

  “Don’t ma
ke me fire you before we even open our doors,” I whisper. I return to Ace who is clearly very amused by our event.

  “Does that woman really think people believe she is turning thirty-five? She has to be on something,” he says, laughing.

  “She probably is. Anyway, I need to get back to work. Thanks for stopping by.” I walk away to circulate the room to ensure that there are no major complaints that I will hear about tomorrow. I notice Carrie watching me very intently, so I decide to check in with her.

  “Hello, Carrie. I think all the guests are enjoying themselves. Is everything alright?”

  “Everything is fine. Who was that dashing man you were just talking to? Don’t you have a boyfriend?” she asks rudely.

  “Yes, I do. He is actually a friend of Luke’s. One of his family members is the head chef here, and we were discussing the service tonight,” I reply unconvincingly.

  “Hmmm, it seemed a bit more friendly than that. Come on, love, you can tell me the truth,” she leans in and whispers.

  “I’m sorry, Carrie, but that’s the truth. Nothing more to tell,” I lie and shrug my shoulders. Why does she care so much anyway? I know she loves a good scandal, but Ace, Luke, and I are hardly well known enough to create a scandal.

  “Whatever you say, love. Though I can’t say I blame you,” she says, looking past me to where Ace is sitting with a small group of people.

  “I’ll be getting back to work now. Let me know if you need anything.” I turn and walk away feeling a bit uneasy. That was really awkward. I know I am just feeling guilty about my attraction to Ace, but I’m starting to panic that other people will start to see through me, especially Luke.

  “Hellooooo, Sienna.” I awake from my daydream to Craig calling me over the headset. “Wake up. It’s time for damage control.”

  I look over to see Gwendolyn and Elizabeth arguing with a woman in a hideous lime-green pantsuit. Elizabeth is yelling at her and telling her that she needs to leave or security will escort her out.

 

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