Hunter gives me a long, hard look."Miss Kaplan, we don't have time to vet anyone else."
"You didn't even attend my event," I say, confused."You attended Tom's."
"And we regret our choice," Delia says."We flipped a coin.By all accounts, you won the evening.Therefore, we'd like to hire you.Please."
"We'll make it worth your while to cancel or reschedule everything you have on your books," Hunter says."And hopefully we've already demonstrated our version of worthwhile."
"But…threeweeks?"I stand up and pace to the window, raking my hands through my wavy, blown-out ginger hair.“To take over an event that is, from what you're telling me, barely planned."I turn to face them."I'd hate to accept and then fail to meet your expectations.That would be a death sentence for my career."
"Are you prone to failing?"Hunter asks, eyebrow arched.
"Just the opposite,” I admit.‘I’m allergic to failure."
Delia leaves the couch and comes to stand beside me."Demi, listen.Thomas Langstrom is a big name in the event planning world.I know this.He poached your guests and hijacked your event date.And yet you still put on not just a successful event, but you showed up Tommy.You did more with less.You can do this."
I let out a breath."I'd have to go to Alaska?"
“That's where the event is, yes."Delia bumps me with her shoulder as if we'd been friends for years.“You won't have to go to a hockey game if you don't want to, promise."
"I thought they already had the hockey game?"I ask.
"Oh, they did," Delia says, laughing."But as I said, hockey is a way of life up there.Spend more than a few days in Tomlin Falls, and you'll get invited to a game.”
Ew, ew, ew.No.Sweaty ogres chasing a rubber disk around a frozen indoor pond, with face-punching?Yeah…no.If I have to watch a sport, it'd be tennis.It's sedate, civilized, and most importantly, no one ever gets their teeth knocked out.
I let out a long sigh.How could I say no to this?I have no doubt that the compensation will be extraordinary, and the next few events are pretty much all set—Eliza can handle them on her own.She's not just an angel investor or a silent partner; she’s an event planner in her own right, and a damn good one, tonight’s behavior notwithstanding.I'm just…better, to be honest.
Money aside, listing Hunter Hawkins as a client is a major win.And that's what clinches it, for me.
With a sharp sigh, I turn back to them.“When do I leave?"
I hadn't expected the journey to Tomlin Falls to be so…extensive.
There was the flight from San Diego to Seattle, another from Seattle to Fairbanks, after a twelve-hour layover in Seattle.From Fairbanks, I had a choice: rent a car, hire a driver, or take a bus.Seeing as it was a four-hour drive from Fairbanks to…what's the name of this place again?Tompson Falls?Something like that…I decided to rent a car; I’ve paid my dues when it comes to public transportation.
My options?A Geo Metro, a Smart Car, or a Ford F350 with dual rear wheels, mudflaps, knobby off-road tires, a 6” lift kit, LED light bars across the cab roof,andthe grille…why this is an option to rent, I couldn't say.But upon the rather panicked and insistent advice of the acne-riddled, greasy-haired, one-earbud-wearing teenaged boy behind the counter, I chose the monster-mobile.
It's like driving One America Plaza, the tallest building in San Diego.
“You really, really don't want to get caught out in the bush in a Geo Metro, lady," he told me."Please,pleasetrust me on that."
When I asked why, his only answer was, "Moose.”As if that explains anything.
Are there, like, moose just running amok across the roadways, attacking innocent California girls?And aren't moose just, like, slightly bigger deer?Deer aren't dangerous.Are they?
Also…the plural of moose is moose.Which is just stupid.
So here I am, on a two-lane highway in the middle of godforsaken bumfuck nowhere, Alaska, in a giant truck the steering wheel of which I can barely see over, wondering what in the uncivilized hell I'm doing out here.
A bird flies by the window—and wait, no, that's a goddamnedmosquitothe size of a bird.It could suck all the blood out of me in one go, I'm fairly certain.
A swarm of those things could carry me off like the flying monkeys in the latestWickedmovie.
It is beautiful out here, though, I have to admit.I'm not much of a nature girlie, if I'm honest, but I can appreciate a nice vista—if an endless ocean of trees is your thing.
It's peaceful at first.There are few cars on the road, which is weird coming from the traffic hell of SoCal.I find myself drivingwaytoo fast, which I wouldn’t have expected to be possible in a monstrosity of a vehicle like this.
I find a radio station that plays fairly clearly—bro country, but it's got a beat, at least.So I'm tapping my hands on the wheel, I've got the window cracked for some fresh air…
