“Virginia, please,” she said, nodding.
“Miss Virginia,” she said, slightly bowing her head. “If I may tell you that this one here is my favorite.” She led the group to a stationery set themed in yellow-gold and an elegant brick red. The sample invitation the two had drawn up had the deep red background with snowflakes falling around a central yellow-gold star ornament. A city silhouette anchored the invite at the bottom. A thin, white border held it all together.
“Why is this one your favorite?” Sophie asked.
“It’s classy. It’s simple. It gets the point across with minimal text. Four colors, my golden number when it comes to color themes. I love it.”
Virginia and Sophie looked at each other with a heavy expression, silently reviewing their conversation about the teams not trusting New Horizon Events. With her hands, Virginia made a motion indicating the one piece of the invite she wanted to change. Sophie nodded definitively.
“We love it, too, Amber. Just one thing, the border. Would it be possible to eliminate it?”
Louis smiled from ear-to-ear. “Miss Sharpe—ah, Virginia—we can do that.”
Amber laughed, and Virginia realized they were having their own moment. “What did I miss?” she asked with a smile.
“Louis and I had that exact conversation when we drew it up. We took it out, put it back, took it out, put it back, over and over.” The husband and wife continued laughing as they continued through the memory. “I kept saying to her, no! And she yelled back, yes! Back and forth, this is what we did for two hours yesterday. Oh, you would not believe it.” Louis’ eyes held tears of joy and affection for his wife. “Yes, Virginia and Sophie, remove the border we can do.”
For another hour, Virginia and Sophie reviewed the various packages available for stationery sets. No final decisions were made after the invitation, but Virginia and Sophie certainly had a stack of options. With Amber and Louis, they fit things together here and there, trying all the different combinations of invitation accessories.
At the end of the meeting, handshakes were hearty and smiles were wide. In warp speed, Amber and Louis took down their invitations, collected their extras, and placed the tables classroom style. They waved goodbye as they left the room, and once they were out of earshot, Sophie and Virginia shared a fan-girl moment.
“Cutest Couple award definitely goes to them,” Sophie said.
“Seriously!” Virginia responded. “And their range of options. Unbelievable. What do you think Marie Rhodes will want? The phone cover or the post-it pad?” A coy smile took over Virginia’s professional demeanor.
Sophie chuckled. “The phone cover, for sure.”
Virginia and Sophie laughed together as they set up for the next meeting. They had taken a photo of the invitation so they could introduce it to Levi even before Amber and Louie arrived to the meeting.
Virginia looked at the clock above the door frame. She had twenty minutes before her meeting with Levi.
Twenty minutes to un-sweaty her palms.
Twenty minutes to calm her rapid heartbeat.
Twenty minutes to remind herself that nothing could come of those things, despite the fact that every time she was in a room with Levi, she wondered what it would be like to hold his hand, or have him guide her into a room with his hand on the small of her back, or have him gently kiss her temple as a small sign of affection.
She had to remind herself that those daydreams couldn’t go anywhere. She had a shindig to run. A fancy shindig that was costing a lot of people a whole lot of money.
So they couldn’t go anywhere.
They just couldn’t.
Chapter 9
Under the unflattering fluorescent lights of the meet-and-greet room with Sophie, Virginia was the epitome of professional and ready. She had combed through her hair, brushed her teeth, and reapplied her deodorant. She and Sophie had reviewed their menu ideas and she was eager to share the items they had thought of in their hours and hours—and hours—of preparation for their pitch to Marie Rhodes, et. al.
“You ready for this?” Sophie asked, looking Virginia square in the eyes with her first serious, non-teasing expression since before they found out Levi was part of the team.
See, that’s what best friends are for. Playful mocking at the right times, and unwavering support all the other times.
“Ready,” Virginia declared, with a single, forceful nod.
Moments later, Levi walked in with his small entourage, though they hardly earned that name. Both Seth, whom Virginia knew from the media, and the woman whom Virginia inferred was Kelsey, came in with their own clear sense of selves.
Seth’s dark curly mop sat atop his head, untamed and dashing. He had a small face to fit his thin, tall frame, and he dressed almost opposite of Levi: Converse sneakers, jeans, and a light-and-dark blue plaid t-shirt that hung below the waist.
Kelsey’s confidence radiated, as did her beauty. Long, dark hair swished behind her with ease, and her green eyes entered the room before she did. Her cropped white pants contrasted her honey skin perfectly, and her pink lace shirt was dressy but not overly so.
The way they were walking and talking with one another, Seth, Kelsey, and Levi presented as a group that knew each other well and felt no need to put on any kind of air.
In all, Virginia saw a team that she was excited to work with. Her favorite vendors were professional, open to collaboration and new ideas, thoroughly knowledgeable of their craft, and ready to learn as they went. Levi’s team, at first glance, was just that.
Virginia and Sophie stood to greet the group.
“Levi,” Virginia said. “You know Sophie.”
“Levi,” Sophie said.
“Sophie,” Levi responded. “This is my best friend and sous chef, Seth Reed. And this is my assistant, Kelsey Tripp.”
Hands were crossed and shaken, and the meeting began.
“So, here we are. Where should we start?” Levi asked, planting his hands on the table.
“Sophie and I had some menu ideas that we had come up with for our pitch, but I’m sure you do, too. Let’s first talk about the theme so we can get that settled.”
“1935 New York City, right?” Kelsey asked.
“Yes. We pulled together photos from vintage New York City. They’re not all 1935; they span from 1908 to 1945. We’ve given the same set to each team, hoping they set the tone for vendors across the board, as well as give everyone an idea of what inspired us.”
Seth took the pack first and leafed through them one at a time, carefully observing each photo.
“Look how packed Yankee Stadium is,” he said, showing a photo to the others of the ballpark in 1940. On all three decks, it seemed not one space was open and that mostly men and probably a few women were jammed into the rows like sardines.
“I love baseball. What about this photo inspired your theme?” Kelsey, with a full, bright smile.
“Community,” Virginia said. “Games sold out more times than not, experienced with full emotion by tens of thousands of people in person and even more on the radio. All at the same time. Not recorded. Not replayed. Just purely experienced.”
Levi smiled. “I like that very much,” he said, having watched Virginia as she spoke.
That flush-and-blush thing, again.
Stop it, she commanded herself.
“Thank you,” she said, moving seamlessly to another photo. “Did you see the fire engine from 1920? That’s my favorite.”
“Because your pilot grandfather was also a firefighter,” Levi said, looking at the photo.
“Yes, that’s right.” She cleared her throat. “And he had a collection of old firetruck models that ironically were lost in a fire.” She tapped the photo with her right index finger to redirect the attention. “This is an image of a steam pumper converted from horse-drawn to motor-driven. I counted the gears and gauges, and—”
“You counted the gears and gauges?” Levi asked, amusement dancing on his face.
“I did. Look at this monster,” she said, passion rising within her. “Can you imagine rolling this down the street? It’s not nearly as clean and neat as the trucks we have now, and that’s what’s so great about it. It’s like a connector set. A beautiful, old connector set that worked to save lives in an age when that was not nearly as doable as it is today.”
Levi, Seth, and Kelsey continued passing around the photos, pointing out the vintage images and commenting on one thing or another.
The crowdedness of the streets in 1928, partly because of the bulky cars and partly because of the six million people who inhabited the five boroughs. Seth liked the men’s hats, Kelsey liked the ten-cent coffee, and Levi appreciated the photos of Rockefeller Center.
“Why the Christmas trees?” Seth asked.
“Look at how different they are from each other. Something as ‘plain’ as a tree, and every year it looks like a brand-new creation. I realize that technically it was, but it’s still quite a feat. The caption says that during World War Two, no materials needed for the war could be used for the tree, so they did three, one for each color of the flag. That’s dedication to the cause, and that’s beautiful to me.”
Kelsey smiled. “You sound like your dad,” she said.
Oh they must know each other pretty well if she knows his father.
“He served in Desert Storm,” Virginia said, looking at Kelsey and then Levi.
“He did, as a Canadian exchange officer.” Levi’s smile showed appreciation for her remembering that detail about his family.
Comments went around about the Depression-era mayor of New York, Fiorello LaGuardia, and how now they knew the namesake for the airport.
On the classic photo of Brooklyn Bridge painters casually sitting or standing on the side cables, credited to a man named Eugene de Salignac, Virginia and Sophie had written Staged, not candid. Amazing.
“No matter if this was staged or candid, that is insane,” Levi said.
“Says the man who bungee jumped off the Victoria Falls Bridge.”
Sophie and Virginia looked at Levi.
“What, you two didn’t cover that in your seven hours?” Seth asked, all good-natured and smiling.
Levi’s close-lipped smile seemed to hold sweet sentiments that he didn’t necessarily want to share. “We did not, in fact.” He side-eyed Virginia with a smirk. “I wanted to do one jump in my lifetime. Victoria Falls Bridge is only one hundred and eleven meters, or three hundred and sixty-four point one seven three feet. It jumps between Zambia and Zimbabwe. I was going to be there for a Tutto Mangiare event anyway, and when would I have that chance again?”
“What did your mom say to that?” Sophie asked, eyebrows raised.
Levi looked toward the ceiling and made a humming sound. “I don’t remember.”
“I can help you with that,” Kelsey chimed in, pointing her index finger into the air. “She saw it with the rest of the world on television because her sweet son forgot to at least text her before it aired.” She offered Levi a friendly but hearty slap on the back. “We were in the office and all of a sudden our video conferencing phone rang. We both looked at one another, confused, because we didn’t have anything scheduled. I saw it was his mom and so I put it up on the big screen in his office. Remember how Ricky used to yell at Lucy for trying to interfere in his shows?”
Virginia and Sophie started laughing, especially Sophie with her slow-build giggle.
“Well Ricky had nothing on Levi’s mom. She went on for almost ten minutes, and Levi just stared at the screen like this—” she made a bug-eyed expression, eliciting even more laughter from everyone at the table.
“It was classic,” Kelsey said, finishing her story.
Levi was laughing at the memory, too, and Virginia watched his every move. The way his dimples formed evenly on both sides, the same dimples she used to involuntarily memorize when she would watch him on television. She noted the crinkles on the outsides of his clear, stirring blue eyes that came even more alive when he laughed.
“Well, thank you for that, Kelsey,” Levi said. “Back to this photo, what about this insanity inspired you?”
The painters on the Brooklyn Bridge cables looked more than comfortable lounging on the cables. There was no way of knowing from the photo how high in the air the men were, all without any kind of harness or support. The lowest painters stood on the cable just eighth from the top and the highest stood on the fifth from the top with their heads reaching up to the third. Three of the ten men were in suit-and-vest dress; the other seven were in painter’s pants and a jacket. Four workers were lounging back as though they were resting on a sofa rather than being dozens of feet up in the air, above a steel bridge and an unforgiving body of water.
Sophie answered Levi’s question after wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes. “I chose this photo. Similar to Virginia with the stadium, this photo is simple. There’s not much variety to it and that’s the point. Pure experience. What was it like to get up there? What was it like to get down? What was it like to paint up there every day? What was it like to work for a city that was booming left and right? What was it like in color?”
Virginia smiled. “That’s a great segue into the party. Pure experience, including the food.”
“Wonderful.” He rubbed his hands together, ready to get to it. “Who should share their ideas first?” Levi asked.
“By all means,” Virginia said, panning her hand toward Levi, Seth, and Kelsey.
Levi opened his maroon-colored folder. Virginia saw photos that were bursting with color and and focus. Once he laid them out, she assumed they were photos of food he had made at prior events. Though, the food looked small. More appetizer like.
Levi was known in the industry for his down-to-earth way of bringing the ordinary dish—hamburger and fries—into the classy realm. A male Rachel Ray was a comparison Virginia had heard more than once.
“We were thinking about Christmas in 1935,” he said. “That was the middle of the Depression, so meals would not have been lavish. We researched cookbooks and recipes from that era, and it was a lot of down-home. Apple dishes, potatoes, fruit, walnuts, that kind of thing. And a lot of small dishes, since the Depression had taken a toll on most of the nation.”
As Levi spoke, Virginia noticed his tone had changed to a presentation voice. It was more formal, more knowledge-based rather than informal and conversational as it had been a moment ago.
He really is so very charming. No wonder he was awarded this position.
“Every item we are suggesting, we have made before. Here is what it would look like.”
Levi laid out a series of photographs. They were all appetizers. Virginia and Sophie looked at one another, a full conversation made of questions transpired between their expressions.
When no further explanation was given, Virginia broke the silence. “These are beautiful, but where is the meal?”
Levi, Seth, and Kelsey shared the look this time.
“Yes, that’s what I just told you,” Levi said, kindly but confused. “Small dishes. We thought an appetizer menu might be the best option, especially for a guest list of two-hundred and fifty.”
Virginia and Sophie kept their shared look quick. They politely bent over each photograph, admiring the craftsmanship of Levi’s food.
Toasted crostini with goat cheese and roasted beets. The colors were striking, the toasted bread next to the bright white of the goat cheese. One of the three pieces in the photograph had three small blueberries on the top; it looked like Christmas, like a perfect little holiday treat.
For a dinner party with thirty people.
The toasted brie patties looked slightly classier, with the browned cheese round with beveled edges and the toasted pecan atop a dollop of raspberry jam. It was attractive, appetizing, and colorful.
For people in department-store Christmas dresses in suburbia, not in gowns at a black-tie affair.
Virginia had no problem with dinner parties
or suburbia Christmas dresses. She had joyfully experienced both.
However, this wasn’t that.
An uncomfortable, dense silence fell over the room as Virginia and Sophie continued through the food pictures. There was no denying that each item was made with care, craft, and precision, and Virginia could even stretch to see that the collective would make a the perfect menu. Still, she could not and would not let go of the fact that the kind of menu that contains those items belongs in another kind of Christmas party. Definitely not at a fancy city gala in mid-town Manhattan with senators, New York City elite, and celebrities. And, most definitely not at a party technically hosted by one Ms. Marie Rhodes.
Up until now, Virginia’s interactions with Levi had been easy. They had come as naturally as if they’d known each other for seven years rather than seven hours. She cared about him, he cared about her.
She also cared about her responsibility of planning this shindig. The hours of research and prep, the nerve-rattling presentation to Ms. Marie Rhodes and company? It had been hard-won.
She cared about New Horizons. The business she had been building with Sophie since they were kids. The long nights. The parties they had missed because they were planning or working a client’s. The lost relationships that she ultimately didn’t care about anyway because any man who couldn’t handle her success wasn’t a man she wanted to be around. All of these elements that had gone into building New Horizons to the point of winning the bid of New York City’s most renown Christmas party.
Virginia always believed it was moments like this that told a woman who she really was and what was really important to her. How she treated the other side, as well as how she treated herself.
“Levi,” she began, slowly. “Levi, these are amazing photos. And the food looks incredible. I would eat every one of these items.”
Maybe it was the way she stated his name. Twice.
Maybe it was the fact that her sentences were complimentary without being interested.
Or maybe it was the general human experience of having been kindly rejected.
Behind the Scenes Page 8