CHAPTER ONE
Rainey
It’s past eightp.m. and I stare at my phone, willing the damn thing to ring, but it remains silent.
Calm down, I tell myself.
Either Golden Palm Events, the company I co-own with my best friend, Kaylee Martin, will win the bid for the Miami Thunder football team’s 50thanniversary celebration or we won’t. But I need the stress of not knowing to end. We were assured an answer tonight, so we wait. Even Ashlynn, our receptionist, has gone home for the day.
“You do realize watching your phone won’t make it ring faster?” Kaylee asks, as she sits at her desk, calmly drinking from her water bottle.
My stomach isn’t just swirling in anticipation, it’s rumbling with hunger, yet I’m too nervous to eat. “Winning this bid could put us on the map,” I remind her. Not to mention give us badly needed positive press so we can finally put the past behind us.
My partner runs a hand through her blonde, highlighted hair and tucks a few strands behind her ear. “We’re doing very well as it is. Do I want this job? More than anything, but it isn’t worth the stress you’re putting on yourself. Besides, did you forget your father owns the team?”
I shake my head because nepotism is the last reason I want this job. “That is exactly why I told him I want us to earn this opportunity on merit, or I don’t want it at all. Besides, it’s not just up to my dad, it’s a group decision. And even if we legitimately get the opportunity to handle the Thunder’sanniversary events, there are those who will scream preferential treatment anyway.” I’ll just have to work extra hard to prove myself.
Something I’ve been doing ever since being publicly accused of acting unprofessionally by a disappointed client who’d destroyed our reputation on social media and in the business circles where we want to work. In truth, the gentleman—and I use that term loosely—had been impossible to please and nothing I did for his event satisfied him.
Kaylee sighs. “People suck. Especially Gregory Atwater. But forget about the past. You must admit we nailed the Thunder presentation.”
In front of my father, the general manager, the coach, and the head of PR, we gave a demonstration of our ideas for the season-long campaign. Even I can admit it was our best presentation to date. “We did an amazing job and no matter what happens, I’m proud of us.”
“Me too,” Kaylee says with a smile. “And don’t worry about anyone claiming nepotism because we’ll do such a great job, they’ll forget your father is Ian Dare.”
Unable to help myself, I snort. “Nobody will ever forget I’m Ian Dare’s daughter.” Don’t get me wrong, I love both of my parents. My mom and I are super close, and I’ve always been a daddy’s girl. Until it came to building my business.
Golden Palm Events is my pride and joy, and Kaylee and I have always been determined to make it in the corporate event planning world on our own and not thanks to my family name. The Dares are huge in football circles and not only because my father owns the team. My uncle Alex used to be the star quarterback for the Tampa Breakers, the Thunder’s biggest rivals. Alex and my dad now work together on concussion protocol, CTE, and preparing young rookies for post-football life. Not to mention most of my family has worked or still worksfor the Thunder in some capacity. Every one of my relatives has offered to refer our business to their friends.
I politely refused. I’m lucky enough to have a trust fund that gave me the start-up money but everything else came from hard work and dedication, not family connections. Even after the initial social media hit that nearly destroyed us, we’re accomplishing our goal. We already have a stellar list of clients, but there is no denying this party would put us at the top.
“Who else pitched?” Kaylee asks. “Do you know?”
I have inside connections and information thanks to Aunt Olivia and Uncle Dylan, who both work in the front office. I think about the names she gave me. “Angela Gunn pitched ideas, but she’s a force in wedding and social party planning, not corporate events. Maybe she’s looking to expand, but she doesn’t have the résumé or the experience we do.”
Kaylee nods. “I agree. I assume Blaire Reynolds put in a bid?”
I groan as I reply. “She did.” Blaire owns what I can only call our biggest rival company.
No matter the opportunity, Sun Coast Events, Blaire’s business, is always up against us. More often than not, we win based on our talent. I can only hope it’s the same with the Thunder account.
I pace the room while Kaylee texts on her phone and the minutes drag by. Finally, I turn to her. “I’m going to the ladies’ room. I’ll be right—”
Before I can finish the sentence, the cell phone in my hand rings. I glance down to see my father’s name and my stomach flips in anticipation.
I give Kaylee a nod. “This is it.” We stare at each other for a long second, then I tap the screen and put the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Hi, princess.”
No matter how old I am, that’s what my dad calls me. “Any news?” I ask him.
“Congratulations, you got the job!”
I love him for not hesitating before answering. “Oh my God, that’s amazing! Thank you!” My heart pounds in my chest, excitement filling me as I grin at Kaylee, who pumps her fist in the air.
“You both earned it,” Dad says, pride in his tone. “As promised, I sat back and let things happen. No push from me.”
I purse my lips but remain silent. Knowing my father, he probably sang my praises, but I’m sure he didn’t insist that my company win the bid. He respects my work ethic, and I know he’ll honor my request. For the most part.
