How could I forget the top secrecy of why this particular event was so vital to nail to perfection, down to the very last non-raspberry-filled pastry?
“Thanks for the official welcome.” It was always appreciated to be reminded of your current situation; broke and practically fighting to keep a job.
How did everything get so screwed up?
I was so much better than this. I was a brilliant planner—one of the top at my last firm. I knew the business; knew all the secrets; knew all the hits and misses of event planning history.
Even socially—I worked the crowds, befriended each and every client that walked through my private office, giving them the step by step of how I was going to throw them the party of the century. No one walked out without signing with me. And no one was ever unhappy with the turnout.
How I missed having it all together. I was never well off, but I made a decent living andlovedmy job. Until the magic carpet I’d been riding for seven years had been ripped from under me…and I’d been falling ever since.
“I knew you’d pull it off.”
“You don’t even know how it went,”I pointed out.
“I don’t need to. I heard you run with it from day one and had to hand it to you. You knew what you were doing. I had no doubts.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You know, you’re right, I did kind-of kick ass with this one, didn’t I?”
Mimi leaned into me and glanced around. “You stole the damn show around here. No one wanted it because it seemed impossible… but not for you.” She leaned back in her chair and studied me. “Something tells me Dean already knew this about you.”
“What makes you say that?”
Mimi glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice again. “Because about a month before you started, the firm went on a hiring freeze.”
I frowned. “What? But then why…”
Mimi looked me up and down and shrugged holding her palms up. “Now you understand the catty looks and judgment you’ve been seeing around here.”
I stared at her and blew out a steady breath before glancing around at my surrounding colleagues. The invisible walls suddenly closing in on me. My time here was limited. There was no doubting that. “I need coffee; I’ll be back in a few.”
6
SCOTT
I tossedthe file back on the coffee table in Dean’s large office; correction, Dean and Starr’s office. They shared the spacious room, occupied by the two clean wooden desks directly across from each other. The room thankfully had roller shades down, reducing the glare from the enormous windows which covered most of the rooms’ back wall. The relatively new business center on the lower west side was managed by a well-known developer who welcomed firms to lease by floor at the minimum. The rent was astronomical and nonnegotiable.
“Consider me impressed, Dean.”
Dean clapped his hands together and plucked himself off the front of his desk where he’d been leaning. “I knew you would be. I never doubted my team.”
Starr crossed from where she stood by the window to the sofa and sat uncomfortably close to me. “Scott, last night’s event is a terrific example of what we do here. We craft amazing, unforgettable events for all our clients and sometimes,” she glanced at her partner enthusiastically, “we make miracleshappen.”
I breathed in deep and shifted as soon as I felt the woman, who was wearing a fiery red dress, brush her leg against mine. It didn’t take much to catch the warning glance Dean shot Starr.
Starr was a fierce and bold business owner who had let her success blind her on keeping her firm running without threat of going bankrupt. About a decade older than me, she managed to maintain some youthful features, but regardless, everything about the woman screamed cougar. I sighed internally. It’s not like I couldn’t handle her type. Most times I’d actually enjoyed it. But not when I was strongly considering going into business with the so-called power non-couple.
I stood, grabbing the folder I’d been reviewing of the Hayes event and cleared my throat, “Noticed you stayed within budget, too.”
“Came under, actually,” Dean corrected.
I nodded, absently.
“So, should we draw up the paperwork?” Dean rubbed his hands together. His confidence rising high after last night’s questionable success.
I stared at the man I once considered a friend. Dean and I went to grad school together nearly a decade ago, with a focus in Business. Dean went into entrepreneurship, taking course after course on running your own business. Back then, Dean was just as cocky, insisting he’d never work for anyone. He’d hit the ground running the day he graduated. Sure enough, the guy started his firm, building it from the ground up, eventually partnering with Starr in order to expand. Now here he was, needing a bailout—and by the looks of it, he needed it fast.
I, on the other hand, hadn’t been as sure of what I wanted when I graduated. I wasn’t as eager and didn’t picture endless dollar signs every time I chose my courses. I studied business intelligence and management. Hayes Enterprises was my first job out of grad school and I never regretted a single move.
