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“See that it doesn’t.” Marion motions to Maxwell next to me.
The introductions continue, and I focus intently on everyone else’s background and achievements. It’s clear I’m not the only one with an impressive resumé. In fact, by the time all eight interns have introduced themselves, the self-doubt is starting to creep in. While I know I belong, it’s clear so does everyone else. It’s like sizing up the competition for the two-miler in track and seeing everyone has the same record time.
“As you can see, there are eight of you. Four wedding planning interns, four event planning interns. It’s more than we’ve had before. The pool of candidates this year was outstanding, and you eight were the best of the best.
“While we were able to offer eight intern positions this summer, there are only four full-time junior associate planner positions available to stay on after September. Two in the wedding planning division and two in the event planning division. There will be a final project and presentation at the end of the summer. That, along with your job performance and professional feedback from the rest of the staff, will help in determining those who will receive a permanent job offer.”
I knew the internship didn’t guarantee employment after the summer, but hearing it from Marion’s lips, and being face to face with all the other interns makes it more impactful. Half of the people in this room won’t get a job offer at the end of the summer.
The reality sinks in, causing that queasy feeling to settle in my stomach once again.
While we’re in New York City and there are likely a plethora of job opportunities in the wedding planning industry, I don’t want to be anywhere else but at Marion Adler Events. Working here is my dream.
There’s no other option but to land one of the junior associate wedding planner positions.
“Now, I’ll go over expectations,” Marion continues.
I flip open my notebook and uncap my pen. While Marion speaks, I take diligent notes and do my best to ask pertinent questions.
One that even earns me a considering look and small smile from Marion.
By the end of the meeting, I feel like I’ve made up for my tardiness and left a more positive impression. Marion excuses us, and we return to the intern office. At my desk, I review the rest of the day’s schedule and vow to not make any more missteps today.
* * *
My feet are grateful for these recycled water bottle shoes. Johnathan and I have been walking around all morning and while my feet aren’t daisy fresh, they’re at least not killing me. From one meeting to the next, Upper East Side to Lower Manhattan, we’ve had barely enough time to catch our breath, let alone eat the apple I packed, so by the time we reach Delphino’s, I’m borderline hangry. Not a great place to be when I need brain power to focus on this meeting with a potential client.
Even though the morning started off a bit shaky due to my tardiness to the meeting with Marion, our productive morning has me feeling more optimistic.
I’m grateful that I’m shadowing Johnathan. Witty and full of energy, he’s a vibe. He’s been talking nonstop, filling me in on office dynamics and the city’s social scene. I can tell he loves his job and wants to share his knowledge with me. We’re pretty much best friends now.
The waiter seats us at a window table. The early-June afternoon is warm and humid. I’m used to Las Vegas’s dry heat. With all the running around today, my hair is turning into a frizzy mess. I reach in my purse to grab a ponytail holder to pull it back in what I hope is still a professional-like style of ponytail.
“Does my hair look okay?” I ask.
Johnathan turns and his eyes scan over me, taking his time to assess.
“You look gorgeous. You’re giving me Keely Jones vibes but without the feathered heels.”
“Thanks.” I smile, knowing comparing me to a beloved Ted Lasso character is the highest compliment from Johnathan. We’ve only spent a few hours together, but I know he’s being honest. He told a woman on the street that her tag was sticking out of her collar. I have no doubt he’d tell me if my hair didn’t look good.
“Okay, a little catch up on this account. Bride is a well-known socialite and has her own jewelry line, her family is in real estate development and has money. Lots of it. Groom is a Wall Street finance guy.” He pauses. “Gorgeous couple. Recently engaged and are looking to wed next summer. The budget is insane. I have so many ideas for this one.” The giddiness is evident in Johnathan’s voice. “This would be a huge account for me to land, so follow my lead and we’ll get this one on the books.”
“Of course.” I take a sip of my water then smooth my hand down my ponytail. This is my favorite part. Meeting new people, listening to their vision for their event, especially weddings. They’re my favorite. I’m still trying to convince Emma and Griffin to have a do-over, one that I can plan every detail of, but they’re perfectly happy with their impromptu Vegas wedding.
I’m looking over the menu, hoping to decide what I want for lunch before the couple gets here, when Johnathan nudges me with his elbow.
“They’re here.”
I lower my menu to find the hostess leading a gorgeous, dark-haired woman with a blinding smile toward our table. Her glossy hair is past the shoulders of her cream blouse which is tucked into fitted trousers. She looks like a million bucks. Her left hand clutches the straps of her designer purse to her shoulder and it’s impossible to miss the diamond that sparkles with each step she takes in her Manolo’s. I’m so preoccupied by the shiny beacon that is Hannah Cartwright that it takes me a moment to turn my attention to the man following behind her.
Tohim.
Positive that I’m hallucinating, I’m forced to do a double take.
That’s when it’s confirmed.
The man’s thick, dark hair, chiseled jaw, and full lips are all present and accounted for. And when his gaze lifts from his phone, familiar indigo eyes lock onto mine. It’s the club all over again, except instead of the thrill of his eyes on me, the cold rush of horror runs through my veins as the realization hits me.
