“It’s not what you sold us.” Anthony shook his head, gesturing to the building as if it were a bag of trash someone had forgotten to take to the curb. “Not even close.”
“Hey.” Hana raised her brow at him. “Let’s hear her out.”
She didn’t look hopeful, but I appreciated her attempt.
“I sold you a high-class ball.” I closed my eyes for a second and nodded. “But I swear, this is going to be better.”
It took only a few meetings with my board for us to accept the impossibility of booking a grand ballroom. The quotes I’d gotten over the summer had risen nearly fifty percent.I thought we would have time to book something four months out because Westbrooke’s surrounding area wasn’t exactly known for hosting expensive events. I was wrong.
“Most students can’t afford a gown or know where to rent a tux,” I continued. “A strict dress code will have people second-guessing when buying tickets.”
“That was your idea, though,” Anthony reminded me. “I thought you were going to figure it out.”
“I did, and I think a masqueradepartywill be better. Costumes and hidden identities. Not some stuffy hotel glitz and glam. Something that feels like an escape. No gown or tux required. Just a mask.”
Anthony sighed and glanced at Hana to see if she was buying it. From the way she twisted her mouth to the side, it seemed negative.
“We’re going to be coming fresh off of Halloween,” I said quickly. “I’m still going to market it as an elegant event. But also something far more relaxed. Think a hole-in-the-wall speakeasy with vampires. The theme’s immortal and classic.”
“Vampiresarealways in,” Hana said with a shrug.
“That’s debatable,” Anthony said.
I took a breath and brought out the big guns. “This is a great deal, Anthony. No labor on your part. One fundraiser in which I need a couple of your members to attend–and you have hundreds, so that should be cake, right?”
Hana laughed when Anthony ruefully nodded.
“You’re getting marketing, networking opportunities, and a chance for free tickets to the event of the year.”
He whistled, but there was a smile growing on his face. “Event of the year. You’re already claiming it, huh?”
“I don’t sit around hoping success falls into my lap. When I need to get something done, I get it done,” I said. “So? Are you a yes yet? I have the president of the Historical Society inmy inbox. He’s offering a full account takeover for a week and covering the drink bill.”
Anthony’s jaw ticked. The president of the Historical Society, Luther, was his ex. Once a power couple, now rivals who continued to step on one another’s toes every chance they got. Luther had caught me in the student center a couple of days ago after he’d caught wind of my fragile alliance with BSU. I knew I was just a tool to step on his ex’s toes, but I didn’t underestimate the power of revenge.
“And Hana’s doing decor,” I added. “So, your involvement is getting more and more questionable. I mean, what are you really offering?”
I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling the cool breeze of the high ground. Anthony frowned at Hana. She responded with a shy shrug.
“It felt right,” she defended. “We’ve got tons left over from last year’s charity dinner.”
“I offer reach,” Anthony said simply, but instead of pressing for more details, he held out his hand. “Without it, you’ll be lucky to get a handful of people through the door.”
I wanted to argue, but he was right. And though I could be a sore loser, I was smart enough to only whine about things behind closed doors. I accepted his handshake.
“Looking forward to doing business with you,” I said with a smile.
With less thanseventy-two hours until David had dinner with my family and the looming deadline of a million and one things on the masquerade party checklist, my stomach remained trapped in a cycle of constant backflips. Only time would help the masquerade anxiety. But I could dosomething about my racing heart when it came to preparing David. I spent most of Friday texting him things like:
Don’t bring up the Marvel Cinematic Universe. It’ll start an argument about capitalism.
Try not to get up too much during dinner. One bathroom break is usually the limit; otherwise, they might think you’re hiding something…
One of my sisters dated a guy who used to steal. My brother caught him trying to take my grandma’s china, between turns of Monopoly.
Speaking of Monopoly! Just in case they ask you to play the Heads Up game, you need to research musicians. It’ll particularly impress them if you can name people from the eighties.
He didn’t respond all day. I couldn’t even get a measly reaction. A simple emoji would’ve been nice. So, when I texted my final reminder that I’d be seeing him tonight at the field day thing Hart invited me to, I was shocked to receive a reply:
