Donovan nodded slowly but said nothing.
“Thanks Dean. Looks like you’ve got this covered,” I praised, feeling relieved that this impossible task was being efficiently handled.
A knock sounded at the closed door and Kat peeked in. “Donovan, Mr. Morris is here for you.”
Donovan nodded once at his assistant before she disappeared behind the double wooden doors, and then turned back to the speaker phone. “Mr. Levy, it was great speaking with you. I’ll see you on Sunday.”
I picked up the receiver when Donovan left the room. “Dean. I’m impressed and have to admit, I was a bit skeptical.”
“Scott, you can trust my team. We’re prepared for any job.”
I chuckled. “I hope you don’t make promises like that in writing.” I shifted my weight, curiosity getting the best of me. “Who’d you assign this to anyway? I’m surprised one of your best was available on short notice.”
There was a pause on the other end which normally would set off red flags for me. Hesitation was easily spotted in his line of business.
“Elle Rybeck,” Dean answered flatly.
I always considered myself to be a great businessman, and after nearly thousands of business meetings, I’d learned to read people very well. Reading a change in tone by phone was elementary to me, especially in someone as vulnerable as Dean Levy. If the guy didn’t sound so suspicious, I probably wouldn’t have given the name a second thought. But then I did a mental scan in his head.
“Rybeck? I don’t remember seeing her on your payroll from two weeks ago. She another partner?”
“No, no. It’s just me and Starr Howard. But Elle...Elle is terrific, Scott, she’s a great asset, really. You won’t be disappointed.”
I stood silent, leaning on Donovan’s desk. Glaring into space, almost as if Dean were five feet away from me rather than on the phone. I was waiting for a better answer, which I’d better get in the next three seconds.
“She’s new, Scott,” Dean admitted with a sigh following the deafening silence.
“You’ve worked with her in the past?” I asked evenly, after a short pause.
“No but I’ve seen her work. We don’t hire amateurs, Scott.”
“You shouldn’t be hiring at all, Dean. This is exactly what we discussed at your office last week.”
“I’ve been copied on nearly all communication and receive hourly updates on this event.” Dean took a breath. “I wouldn’t have given her the job if I didn’t think she could handle it, Scott.”
I gritted my teeth and took a breath myself. I hated when I said things that sounded like my old boss. “There wasno roomfor her on your payroll, Dean,” I waited a moment. “If Sunday doesn’t go remarkably smooth, I imagine you’ll take care of that problem on Monday?”
Another sigh.
“Yes, Scott. If there’s so much as one hiccup, we’ll terminate her effective immediately.”
3
ELLE
I pulledout the black evening gown that I wore to all my fancy events and slung it over my arm before walking out of my apartment late Sunday afternoon.
The client, Donovan Hayes, had insisted that he didn’t want this to appear like a production to his wife or guests. Dean told me this was a popular request from clients of his stature. They never wanted it to seem as if they were trying too hard. Donovan’s assistant said they didn’t want to see anyone but the caterers on the floor. No security, no venue staff, and definitely no planners walking around with an earpiece telling someone to refill the vodka on table three.
That wouldn’t be a problem. That kind of visibility wasn’t my style anyway. I had a special way of blending in with the crowd, which included the seven hundred-dollar Armani dress I’d invested in a few years back for such occasions.
The dress had been pre-rigged years ago when I wore it to an Oscar party. One of the laced-in flowers was slightly trimmed on top to allow enough room for a crazy glue stick and some safety pins. I also sewed in a pocket covered with a chiffon drape which typically carried a small white-out stick that was held in a silver lipstick compartment and, of course, actual lipstick.
As certain mishaps became more regular at events, I updated the items I’d need to make room for in my go-to gown and the small purse I’d carry. Unfortunately, my purse only had room for a cell phone, multi-purpose pen, mini-flashlight and the event’s contact list.
I ran down my list of ‘Day-Of’ follow ups; confirming arrival times for vendors and checking in with Starr and Dean as well as Donovan’s assistant.
The Square Landing was a beautiful venue to hold an anniversary party. It was just off the Hudson River pier, shaped like a yacht, but built on the ground. The entryway was already lit up with hidden tree lights, even though the sun hadn’t set quite yet. There was a mock ramp lined with red rope and a doorman dressed as a captain of a ship standing guard.
