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The Romeros were also one of the few billionaires in that area that had a private helipad for their lavish home. Their own helicopter was housed there within minutes in case they wanted to, or needed to, fly off at a moments notice.
Imagine that! A helipad.
Lucy could not wrap her head around that one. How decadent it must be to live like that. She had heard that the elder patriarch of the family had grown up impoverished as an immigrant and had to fight hard, study hard, network hard and create the empire that he currently owned from the ground up. Literally.
Lucy hadn’t actually been to the estate as of yet but she saw the beautiful pictures on the Internet. It was intimidating. Breathtaking. Surreal. Yes, these folks were certainly out of her league. If it weren’t for taking over her auntie’s business, she would have probably never brushed shoulders with the Romero clan. She felt blessed to have had this opportunity. And she also prayed to God that she would not screw this up for Mr. Romero, senior or his grandson, either way.
As hot and sophisticated as Antonio Romero III was, Lucy still could not believe how a man who had such privilege growing up in a world that was foreign to her and in a world that seemed more like a fantasy than reality, was now accessible to her.
He still had this sort of down-to-earth, prosaic feel to him. Or maybe, slightly more than mere common. He made her heart flutter in her chest when she was near him. Heck, he had that effect on her all weekend when she kept thinking and fantasizing about him.
Hot damn!
Just dreaming about Antonio lifted Lucy's mood. It was true then that a little healthy fantasy could go a long way in improving one’s attitude.
“Listen, we’d better get back to business at-hand,” Lucy said shuffling some of the loose sheets on her desk. Her table was an utter mess. She had opened files and brochures spread out everywhere.
Lucy placed the file containing Romero’s wedding to the side.
“Okay, let’s deal with the other outstanding weddings.” Lucy picked up the pages and the contract signed by the next couple. “I’m going to be meeting with the venue manager for Debbie and Luke’s mob-style wedding.”
“Oh, that should be interesting.”
“Yes, it should be and you’ll be coming with me.”
“Sweet. I’m looking forward to that. I’ve never planned a mob wedding before.”
“I’m sure they haven’t either.” Lucy grinned. “Well, we need to have an idea of the floor plan and speak to the person in charge of designing the hall. I believe they wanted some sort of Chicago-style Al Capone deal, right?”
“Yes, something like that,” Maxine concurred as she ferociously typed away on her iPad. “Good, how does this look?” Maxine showed Lucy an idea on the screen and Lucy gave her the thumbs-up.
“What would I do without you, Maxine?”
“Probably nothing,” Maxine teased.
Lucy rolled her eyes in jest and shook her head.
After an hour of discussing what they would be doing for the mob-style wedding of their client, they sent off some emails and had Darla arrange the appointment for the following week with the venue manager of the hotel where that wedding’s reception would be hosted.
“Great!” Lucy said as she placed the file aside. “Now, what do we have planned for this week?”
“Well, there is the Bridal Show at the Convention Center.”
“Already?”
“Yep. And don’t forget we have someone from our company there in a booth. They’ll be handing out flyers and other enticements while we look around.”
“Oh, wonderful. Can you have Darla make all the arrangements for our business cards and other swag that would be needed?”
Maxine tapped away on her iPad and whipped off an email to Darla, their receptionist and administrative assistant. “Done. Now what are we going to do about the ball, Cinderella?”
Lucy looked lost for a moment. “Ball? What ball?” Her heart palpitated again. All she could do was think about a glass slipper, and for some reason, Prince Charming was that hot and stubborn Antonio Romero III. Lucy blinked hard and tried to push the naughty thoughts about Antonio out of her head. He was way out of her league. And a super sexy distraction she did not need nor want at this time. Back to business. “What ball are you talking about, Maxine?”
