“We’ll be in touch,” Toby says.
I manage to find my keys and get inside the building, my knees as soft as jelly, as I head for the elevator. Equal partsconfused and aroused, I keep looking back, catching glimpses of them as they climb into the back of the limo. It’s not until I see the red taillights disappear down the street that I’m able to truly breathe again, realizing that I may have just traded a wanna-be Morgan for the real deal.
Times three.
2
WILLOW
“It’s not looking good.”
Jamie’s conclusion drives the nail even deeper into the core of the problem. It’s been almost a week since the charity gala, and despite all the business cards we handed out, not one new client has popped up. In fact, the opposite seems to be happening.
“We’ve lost three clients in two days,” I mumble, going over the emails again.
Our office is small but breezy, occupying the top western corner of a building in NoHo. Jamie and I worked hard to turn it into a great workspace, considering the place was gutted down to the original brick when we first came in. Now, off-white walls and walnut furniture with white and soft gold accents welcome us every day, with framed photos of our most successful events dotting the walls.
The morning sun beams through the window behind me, but there isn’t enough light in the world to drown out thedarkness taking over my mood. I worked too damn hard to lose everything now.
“The Metzlers aren’t too sure about going forward with their engagement party either,” Jamie says, checking his phone after a familiar chime. “Crap.”
“No,” I gasp, wide-eyed, as I look up at him. “What are they saying?”
Jamie, my best friend since design school, has been by my side since I first got the idea of going into event planning. I had the design mind, and he had the business know-how to make it work in an increasingly competitive market. It made sense that we should join forces. For the past two years, we’ve been designing and delivering some of the city’s most talked-about weddings and corporate events, theme parties, team-building experiences, and engagement and gender-reveal parties.
“Jacob Metzler was at the charity event last week,” Jamie says, his eyes darting across his phone screen. “And he got another offer from some boutique company from uptown, Steel Rose Inc.”
“Steel Rose Inc.,” I mutter. “That’s one of Sheila’s friends. I’ve heard that name before.”
“Yes, when the Adams people told us they didn’t need our services anymore.”
“Oh, God,” I says as I realize and run a hand through my hair. “Sheila’s behind this, isn’t she?”
“It sure sounds like it.”
“Jamie, I amso sorry.”
Jamie gives me a troubled look and takes his seat in one of the guest chairs across from my desk, straightening his dusty pink shirt and grey bow tie in the process. “What the hell are you apologizing for, honey?” he asks matter-of-factly. “It’s not your fault Sheila Madison-Morgan is a raging bitch.”
“She’s costing us business,” I reply. “With three, now possibly four, contracts down, how the hell are we supposed to cover rent this winter?”
“We’ll figure it out,” he says, giving me a soft smile. “I’m the one who’s sorry for freaking out the way I just did. Remember, Will, we started from scratch, okay? I worked my triple shifts at the Velvet Lounge to help with the bills and the office rent. You bussed tables. We made it work. We handled it.”
“But that was two years ago, Jamie. We’re supposed to be doing better.”
“We are. This is just a hiccup.”
“It’s more than a hiccup,” I grumble. “Sheila is going to great lengths to ruin me, and I don’t understand why. She got what she wanted. Terrence is dating a damn Vanderbilt. He doesn’t have to deal with fat ol’ me anymore?—”
“Hey!” Jamie smacks his lips at me. “Don’t you fall for that nonsense. Come on, Will. You know better than that.”
“I do… I just…” I let out a frustrated groan and lean back into my chair.
“Dominic said he can send some parties our way,” Jamie says after a long, heavy pause. “Nothing too big, but it’s better than nothing. We’ll probably have to cut back on our regular fees, but we can charge extra for the drinks on the night of each event. It should get us enough cash to move thingsaround. We still need to pay for those ice sculptures for the Hildebrand wedding in August.”
“And the floral arrangements from Holland,” I add. “The fee they paid upfront will have to cover our office rent now that we’ve lost three clients.”
“Maybe four.”
