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I hope she has a very nice view from that ivory tower of hers.
I start imagining a world where coochie waxers show up at everyone’s place of employment as a normal part of the day—the garage mechanic takes a quick break, the fast food employee ducks into the break room to do their back, sack, and crack ...
I stifle a laugh. I’ll have to tell Mason about this. He’ll freaking die. Also he’ll never be able to look at Cecelia the same way again. You’re welcome, Mason.
Cecelia’s heading off, and Amanda’s still giving me the death stare. “Were you eavesdropping?” she demands.
“Why? Were you up to something you shouldn’t be?” I give her a wide-eyed stare of innocence and head back to my office. As I’m walking down the hallway, I hear her door slam.
I sit down at my desk and pull out my box of Rovers chocolates and my list of invitees. I take a bite of Paxton’s chocolate, then glance apologetically at Mason’s chocolate. “Sorry,” I say to it. “He’s really tasty. Don’t take that the wrong way.” He absolutely would pout and sulk if he were here to hear that.
I start going down the list of invitees, looking at all the check marks and counting them up. By the time I’m done, Cecelia walks in, presumably with a cooch balder than our national bird. There she is, in her twenty-thousand-dollar suit, looking like the respectable Upper East Side society matron that she is, with a shocking secret underneath her skirt.
Mason is going to die.
“I’ve got 150 confirmed guests, along with 40 local celebrities, and that’s not even including the team itself.” I say happily.
Cecelia sits down in the chair facing my desk. “My dear, you are an absolute superstar. I knew you’d do well, but this is amazing.”
When I tell her how much money we’ve raised already, her smile stretches even wider. “I am running out of words to praise you with.”
“Oh, Mason did most of the heavy lifting, I have to admit.” I’m glowing from the compliments. “He really, really came through with the celebrities and some of the bigger donations.”
Cecelia’s smile fades, and she peers at me closely, leaning forward. “Uh-oh.”
“What?” I give her a puzzled look.
Her eyes narrow. Her botoxed forehead comes dangerously close to wrinkling. “Why does it look like you’re having dirty dreams about your sexy bad boy client?”
I widen my eyes and give her a hurt look. “Cecelia. I’m sorry, you know I love you, and I try to have a sense of humor and all, but that’s very inappropriate.” The best defense is a good offense.
“Thank heavens.” She gives me a look of relief. “You know it would be a major conflict of interest to date a client.”
I reply with a wry smile. “I think if there’s one thing that history has taught us, it’s that Mason Raker does not date.” I mean, that’s kind of mostly true, right?
“True, true,” she muses. “But still. I’d be an awful friend to not warn you about it. Honestly, dear, you do look a little moony-eyed when you talk about him.”
“How?” I ask her. “Like this?” I open my eyes really wide and blink hard. She bursts out laughing.
“Don’t make my eyes water. I’ll ruin my makeup,” she protests. Thank heavens, my diversion seems to be successful. My next move would have been to threaten her with chocolate.
“Now, who’s doing the catering? And who’s doing the flowers and the ice sculpture?”
I quickly run through our vendor list, again making a firm mental note to stay in very close touch with them. Damn, this is ridiculous. I can’t wait until I get the promotion and don’t have to worry about Amanda anymore. I should be able to focus on the client and what’s best for them, not worry about sabotage at every turn. Honestly, what I hope is that when I get promoted, Amanda will have such a tantrum that she’ll either end up quitting or being fired.
“And, once all the toys have been purchased and delivered to Rovers headquarters, the team will help wrap them.”
“Whoa, what?” Cecelia shakes her head. “The team is personally going to do that?”
“Yep, and they’re going to put their initials on each package with a sharpie,” I say proudly. “The kids will love it. They’ll probably save and frame the wrapping paper.”
We spend a few more minutes chatting, and after Cecelia leaves, I call the caterer to finalize everything. Then I shoot off a text to Mason.The toys will be delivered to the Rovers headquarters. Have the guys ready to wrap presents one week from today. We have hundreds of gifts to wrap.
I get a quick reply.No way. Do you know how busy we all are during the season? They’ll never go for it.
They’re too busy for sick kids?
They’re too busy to wipe their own butts.
