Page 22
The round tables are stripped of their china and tablecloths, waiting to be collapsed and stacked away. The centerpieces are gone, but a few floral displays and decorations remain, along with a pile of boxes waiting to be picked up.
“Hey,” Sebastian says, rushing in with event staff and a dolly. “These boxes here.” He points to the stack of boxes, and the person piles them up on the cart.
“Anything else?” He directs his question to me.
“I think that’s it.” I have to do a few minor things before heading home, but I don’t need to waste Sebastian’s time with that. Everything is pretty much cleaned up and taken care of at this point. “And you said you had a place to store them?”
“Yeah. Ryan Moore has a shed in Plymouth, so we don’t have to use our office space. I’m going to head down now and drop them off, and then I’ll be back.”
We could have stored the boxes in our office, but it’s getting a little tight in there. Plus, we would like to add more staff, and each year after the gala, we end up with more and more crap we need to store. If someone else wants to store it for us, I’m not going to complain.
“Thanks for taking care of it.”
“Not a problem,” he says, stepping out of the ballroom with boxes and staff in tow, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
The end of an event, especially one as big as the gala, is always bittersweet. It’s a relief that it’s over, but I’m also going to miss it in some odd way.
I busy myself with taking down a few remaining decorations, leaving the flower garland at the entryway for last.
After half an hour or so, I make my way over with a small step stool. I know if I asked the event staff, they would easily take care of this for me, but some things I’d rather do myself.
I set the small stool down and step up. I reach for the top of the flower garland, pulling at the ties to release it, then untie another ribbon, and then another. I’m about to get down to move the stool into another spot for a better angle for the remaining ties when enormous arms reach over me.
“I’ve got it,” a gravelly voice says just above my ear.
Calvin.
He quickly unties the remaining ribbons on the top, hovering close to me. Instead of leaning in, I take two steps off the ladder, making quick work of the bottom, and we meet somewhere in the middle.
The flower garland falls, and he quickly catches it.
“You’ve got fast reflexes,” I say out loud. Stupidly.
“Oh, I know.” He winks at me, and suddenly my body warms and my cheeks flush.
I turn my head, hoping he doesn’t notice what that small gesture did to me, but I glimpse a smirk on his lips before my head is fully turned.
“Well, thank you for your help,” I stutter.
“You’re welcome. Let’s get this stuff in my Jeep.”
“Oh, no need.” I glance down at my watch on my left wrist. “Sebastian will be back in a few minutes.”
“That’s why I’m here. Sebastian called me, and he’s stuck in Plymouth a little longer than expected. I’m going to drive you home.” He pauses, but then quickly adds, “If that’s okay.”
“Yeah,” I choke out. I feel so stupid thinking that he came of his own accord to help. I didn’t even ask why he was here, but that makes so much sense.
We wordlessly grab the two remaining boxes and walk to the front of the hotel, where Calvin’s giant bright blue Jeep is parked, and throw them in the back, then hop inside.
“I think that was the best gala you’ve had,” he shares as he checks his side mirrors. “It keeps getting better and better each year.”
My heart warms at the compliment. I share the same sentiments as him, but I am a little biased since I am the one predominantly organizing and running the event each year.
“Thank you.” I turn to glance out the window, staring at the hotel in the distance. It was so much work, but worth it, especially since it was the highest-earning gala to date. “I’m glad it’s over, but I’m going to miss it, too,” I admit.
“That’s how I feel about football sometimes.”
“Yeah?” I spin my head in his direction.
