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nately," she said. I automatically turned away from my friends, swinging my legs into the aisle between tables. "Bad news?" I repeat-
ed, lowering my voice. "Yes. I'm afraid there was some sort of snafu with our scheduling program," Cheryl said. "It seems your date
has been booked for weeks." "What?" I blurted loudly. "No. That's not possible." Everyone at the two Billings tables fell silent, as did
half the dining hall. I placed my hand on my forehead as my heart began a panicked dance inside my chest.
"I'm so sorry, Miss Brennan, but there's nothing I can do." "No. There must be something. The fund-raiser is less than a week
away," I said desperately, closing my eyes against the curious stares. "We signed a contract. We... we put down a deposit." "Which
will be refunded in full, of course," she said politely. "You're not getting it," I replied, my voice so tense I barely recognized it. "The
invitations have already been sent. You can't--" "Again, Miss Brennan. I'm very sorry. But--" "Don't tell me there's nothing you can
do!" I shouted. "Who booked the place? Maybe I can call them and convince them to--" "I'm afraid I can't share that information,"
Cheryl said, clucking her tongue. "But you have to! There has to be something I can--"
"Please accept my apologies, Miss Brennan. I'll put your check in the mail today." With that, she hung up and I started to hyper-
ventilate. I placed my phone on the table and slowly turned around, resting my elbows on either side of it. I stared down at the screen,
willing it to ring again. Willing Cheryl to call back and tell me it was all a joke. A misunderstanding. But the phone lay still and silent.
"Reed, what is it? What's going on?" Tiffany asked. "She said... she said the place had already been booked. They messed up," I
replied, looking up at all of them desperately. "She says there's nothing she can do."
The Billings Girls stared back at me, shocked. I had let them down. I had let them all down. "There goes the fund-raiser," Missy
said finally. "And Billings," Rose added, looking ill. Tears stung my eyes. What were we going to do? I had let them all down. Every
one of them. I was going to go down in history as the president who killed Billings. "All right, all right. Everyone calm down," Noelle
said loudly. "I happen to have a backup plan." "You do?" Vienna asked. "You do?" I echoed, feeling a rush of hope. Noelle looked at
me and folded her a
rms in front of her on the table. "I booked Loft Blanc," she told me. There was something approaching an apology
in her eyes. "Just in case." "You what?" I blurted, my relief turning to anger. "Why would you-" "Just in case," she repeated. "When
you throw together an event this fast, it's always good to have a backup."
My skin started a slow burn. All day Sunday she had acted as if she had come around to my way of thinking. That the St. Sebastian
was the best venue for our event. But all the while, she had already gone behind my back and booked the place she had wanted. She
had been hoping something like this would happen. I could see it in her eyes. "Noelle! You are a genius!" London cried, getting up
and hugging Noelle from behind. "What would we do without you?" Vienna added.
Suddenly everyone was getting up, congratulating Noelle. A few people even golf clapped for her achievement. And I had to sit
there and watch it all. Watch them thank her for saving my ass. Watch her preen at the attention. No matter what I did, no matter how
hard I worked, it was always Noelle who saved the day. Always Noelle who got the credit.
