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Hannah stopped short, turning her curious gaze to Tad. "What are you talking about?"
Tad walked with her into her office, settling down on the sofa while she delivered lunch to EM.
"I got an almost frantic call from someone claiming to be your mother. She said she was looking for her daughter and she hasn't heard from her in over a week and was about ready to drop everything in some place called Stars Landing and come and check to see if something happened to you."
Hannah sat down, putting her head in her hands. It wasn't like her mother to be such a worrywart. Moira that happy, carefree hippie. Had it really been over a week since she spoke to her?
"Yes," Tad said, pulling out his cell phone and looking at some kind of article. "She said the only reason she wasn't here already was because some girl at some inn or something told her that you mentioned the name of this place while you were talking a few weeks back. So she looked us up and called in."
Hannah sighed. "Thank God it was you who got her and not Sally. Could you imagine the disapproving look she would give me?"
"Yeah," Tad smiled, putting his phone away and looking suddenly serious. "Look, I know this job can be overwhelming. I just want to make sure that you aren't letting it completely consume your life. You have to keep in touch with the outside world."
"I know. It's just..."
"Nothing," Tad said, sweet but firm. "Call your mother. Go to the spa. Hang out with that guinea pig of yours. Read a book. Just get out of this mindset sometime. It's not healthy."
Hannah sat for a long minute after Tad left. She made sure she called her mother when she got home. Even though it was after ten at night and her mother was clearly already asleep, she sounded suddenly alert and relieved. Her mother kept her until after midnight, asking a million questions and, more or less, giving her the same speech that Tad had a few hours before.
–
It took three separate appointments with catering companies for her to realize she really hated chefs. There was something about the way they adamantly believed their standard menu was the perfect one for every occasion. Perhaps Hannah was being too nit-picky about every little detail, but she wanted to make sure that everything was up to par. These people who would be attending certainly had more refined taste than herself.
On her fourth try, she found a young up-and-coming company with a chef who wasn't much older than herself. And while in the past she had dealt with office managers to make sure she had the pocket lining to be able to employ them before the chefs would even see her, the chef came right out of the kitchen, her jacket stained with all kinds of colors.
Hannah felt comforted by her warm brown eyes and round face. "I'll be honest with you. I am planning a black-tie event for my boss. I have never even been to a black-tie event so I am out of my depth here. And, I know you don't know my boss, but trust me... the food has to be absolutely perfect."
Mary smiled, nodding ask she spoke. "It's not that complicated. Given the fact that it is after eight at night- we won't need to do a sit down meal."
"That's a new one," Hannah said, sinking back against the chair.
"Yeah well... the sit down dinner is where the money is. And I'm sure the other caterers saw you coming," she smiled kindly. "No, we just need finger foods. A huge spread of them it sounds like. A good variety of them and a huge dessert spread," she said, jotting down notes as she spoke. "Since they're high powered businessmen and women, we need to have a back-bar fully stocked with premium liquors."
Hannah nodded, curious about EM drinking. He didn't keep any liquor in the office and she never saw him outside of work. What was his drink? She couldn't see him drinking anything mixed. Everything about him screamed that he took his liquor straight. Scotch. Or whiskey. Something strong. Powerful men liked powerful drinks.
She left the caterer feeling confident in her choice. Mary seemed calm and confident and not at all snotty or arrogant. It took her an hour to track down some bands online that she wanted to go listen to.
She silently prayed that she would get out of work before nine for the next few nights so she had time to see them in person.
–
In a few days, it was all squared away. The caterer had her set menu. The band, a nice eclectic group who would do a mix of jazz and blues and older pop hits, was lined up. She had an RSVP list that included all but one of the names on the list. Only because, his secretary had called to say, he was in the hospital. Apparently EM was as important as he appeared.
She sat at her desk, breathing easy. It was all worked out. The cleaning lady would be coming every day for three days leading up to the event to make sure the house was absolutely pristine. The caterers, bartenders, band members, and valet drivers would arrive at five pm and she would be there to greet them and show them where everything was to be set up.
Oh, God. She would be there.
"Oh crap," she said to herself.
"What now?" Tad asked, playing with her hair.
"I have to be there."
"Be where?" Tad asked, tying her hair into an intricate up-do after begging her to let him let it down. "The party?"
"Yeah. He told me I was to set it up and then I had to be there for the whole thing so nothing goes wrong."
