Page 45 of The Rebel Billionaire

“I’d say catering is number one. They should be finishing up after the lunch rush. Ask for Monty. He’ll be able to assist you. Ensure they add it to next week’s food order,” she says.

“What about numbers? Surely they’re going to need to know how many people will be attending?”

Sue laughs, a full-bellied chuckle. “This is a party for Callie. People will be rearranging their schedules to attend.”

I smile. I can understand why. It would be the first thing I’d be doing.

“How many people are we talking about?” I ask.

“At least seven hundred and fifty,” she says. “As for the collection and gifts? Do you have any ideas?”

“I’ve made a list of all the things Callie has talked about over the past few days, things she and David still need to purchase. I know they need a crib and which one, along with baby grows, soothers and so on. I was thinking any spare money could be put aside for the baby?”

If seven hundred and fifty people donate towards a gift, that’s going to be one hell of a lot of money!

“What a lovely idea,” Sue says. “It sounds like you’ve got it all in hand. I’m impressed.”

My chest swells with pride. Harper has always been good at winning people over and organising things, but that’s because her name opened doors. Brooke, as a plain Jane, lacks that advantage.

“I hope so,” I say. “I’d hate for anything to go wrong.”

Organising this party is going to put me in the spotlight. I’m going to go from invisible to centre stage in a matter of hours if I’m not careful. Then there’s keeping this hidden from Callie, as well as continuing to learn all I can before she leaves next Friday.

“Head down to the cafeteria, speak to Monty. I’ll call down so he knows to expect you.”

“Thank you for your help,” I say, getting up and moving towards the door.

“Brooke.” I stop and turn around. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

I give her a nod and smile before turning and leaving.

Next stop, the cafeteria and Monty.

CHAPTER 14

HARPER

By the time I arrive back at my apartment, I’m dead on my feet.

A day of organising the party while managing Alessandro’s schedule has been intense. Not to mention that I’m playing catch-up on meeting preparations, learning the document management systems and getting to know who’s who internally and externally. My brain is in overdrive, and this is all before I take over from Callie, who currently handles the fashion-specific and creative support tasks. Apparently, they’re on Monday’s agenda.

I slump down onto the sofa and close my eyes, frowning when my phone pings.

KRIS:

Hope your first week has gone well. Parcel arriving shortly.

ME:

Feet haven’t touched the ground, but it’s keeping me out of mischief. Intrigued.

As if on cue, there’s a knock at the door.

I check the peephole and find a courier standing outside.

“Ms Brooke Feldmann?” he says as I open the door.

“That’s me.”