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I like you, Ellie. More than is appropriate, really.
Then let’s plan on a proper date when I get back in two weeks.
Deal.
I drop my phone on the bed next to me. Two weeks. That’s how long I have to survive being here. After that, I don’t have to worry about coming back. I can focus on my life in Kansas and move on. I have to. Otherwise, I’m likely to do something that I will regret.
Monday comes too soon, and I don’t hear from Al once. I wonder if that’s because Jafar kept him so busy or if he changed his mind about hanging out. Either way, I’m glad I didn’t have to hang out with him. I make my way to the Met, not knowing what I’m going to find when I walk in. Everyone is stiff when I enter the office area, not greeting me as they normally do.
Clearing my throat, I speak loud enough for everyone to hear me. “I just want to apologize to each of you. It was rude of me to take off for the weekend when we’re so close to the gala. I will understand if you don’t want or need my help.”
The ball is in their court, but I mean what I said. If they don’t want my help, then I will be on the first flight I can get to Kansas. The thought is kind of freeing.
Gemma approaches me. “I’m not going to lie and say that we weren’t mad at first, but Mr. Jafar called and explained the situation. I think we can all agree that the blame goes to Jasmine on this one.”
“Jafar called?”
“He called Friday evening. He also made another very generous donation in case his wife wants to come back to the committee.”
“That was very nice of him.”
She hums. “From what I’ve been told, he showed more emotion over making sure that you weren’t to blame than he did when he asked to get his wife on the team.”
“I was upset after we texted and was in their vehicle. I think he just felt bad.”
She raises an eyebrow, as if she’s not buying it. God, please don’t let me blush. I really don’t want to fuel something that might become a rumor.
She finally says, “Well, come on then. There’s a lot that needs to be decided today.”
I dive in wholeheartedly, trying not to think about Jafar. He had to have called the team before the dinner on the beach. Why did he do it? The thing is, I know why. He called because he knew how stressed I was about the whole situation. He called because he’s a good guy, at least where I’m concerned. I should thank him but talking to him is a bad idea.
Gemma bumps her shoulder against mine. “You look like you’re a million miles away.”
“Just trying to figure out what to wear to the fundraiser. Have you got an outfit yet?”
It’s a bit of the truth and a bit of a lie. Next weekend is a fundraiser dinner that Jasmine suggested. The funds will go toward next year’s gala. For Jasmine, it’s a way to show off in front of others, but I can see the potential. This is where we’re going to focus on her fairytale suggestion. A preview of the gala with a twist.
“I go for my last fitting with the designer this evening. What about you?”
“It’s a bit harder to find designers who want to dress me,” I admit with heat to my face.
This isn’t the first time that I’ve run into this situation. Most designers don’t seem to think clothing sizes go past a size six. I’m a size eighteen on a good day.
“You should come with me. The designer I’m using is up-and-coming, and just might surprise you.”
I nod. “I’d like that.”
“That’s what friends are for.”
We work hard for the rest of the day, finalizing the plans for the gala.
As Gemma and I leave the Met, she says, “I think we’ll get to enjoy the week before the gala.”
“It doesn’t seem possible. I can’t imagine how you feel. You’ve been working on this for a year now.”
“There were a lot of long nights, but it’s always worth it. Anything that you’re passionate about should pull something from you. If it doesn’t, you’re wasting your skills.” She pauses. “Have you thought about next year?”
“Next year?”
