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A HALLOWEEN NIGHTMARE
EVE
“You’re coming tonight, right?” Greg, my most recent client, screamed from somewhere inside his four-thousand-square-foot house.
I was currently placing the finishing touches on all the Halloween decor, making sure it was sufficiently “scary yet chic,” as he had requested, before pulling out my phone and snapping a few more pictures for my website and portfolio.
Trust me, I’d had no idea what that meant initially either. I realized at some point during our multiple planning meetings that thechicpart simply meant he wanted to add in colors other than the typical Halloween palette. In my head, I’d started picturingAlice in WonderlandmetThe Nightmare Before Christmas, and, voilà, a theme had been born. So, here I was, staring at hot-pink accents dotting the otherwise darkened hallway.
“Eeeeeeve!” Greg shouted again, dragging out my name.
I stared at his ceiling before blowing out a long breath and pocketing my phone.
I never attended the parties that I designed. It wasn’t that I had a hard and fast rule about not going to them, but no one had really asked before. Okay, that wasn’t necessarily true. I’d been invited once or twice, but no one had everinsisted.
Greg was demanding that I show up tonight.
“Eve, I swear to God that I’ll hunt you down and tie you to one of the magic mushrooms if you don’t answer me!” he continued yelling from down the hall, his voice getting louder.
I heard his footsteps moving quickly in my direction, and I plastered on a wide smile right as he found me.
“Why do you want me to come so badly?” I asked through gritted teeth.
“Sweetheart”—he wrapped his arm in mine and started walking me down the dark hall—“I have a lot of people I want to introduce you to. Look at this place.” He pulled his arm out from mine and waved it around the space. “It’s a masterpiece. A terrifying dream. And everyone is going to want to know who created it.”
He wasn’t wrong about that. I was one of those people who had gotten lucky when it came to my business. My work spoke for itself, and I’d never had to spend a dime on advertising, not even when I’d first started out. My calendar was booked a year in advance for holidays, and I had multiple employees that I was able to pay well. And all of it had stemmed from word of mouth.
“You can just give them my card. I’ll leave a stack for you in the foyer,” I suggested, knowing that he’d tell me no, like he’d been doing for the past week and a half.
“It would be better if you were here and they could meet you in person. You know your personality is part of your charm.” Greg sensed my hesitation.
I wasn’t even sure why I was being so difficult in the first place, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.
He clearly wasn’t going to give up or take no for an answer, which was probably how he’d gotten to be so successful in the first place. His tenacity and his ear for music. Greg was Hollywood movie score royalty, but he refused to live there. Said it was a fake place, filled with even faker people. And he wasn’t the only one who disliked it. There were a lot of famous people who lived in Orange County. Way more than you’d think…thank God. I loved that the majority of my business was out here instead of my having to drive all the way to Santa Monica or Malibu to do what I did. There were plenty of other event designers who lived out there. Basically, Hollywood didn’t need my services, and I was glad.
“Eve, come for an hour. That’s all I ask. You don’t have to stay for the whole thing. Okay? One hour,” he pushed, and I felt my heart pound inside my chest.
I did my best to avoid unnecessary interaction with Hollywood’s elite and entitled—aside from when one of them booked my design services, of course. And I knew that even with typical LA traffic, tonight’s soiree was going to be filled with celebrities from all over. Sucking in a quick breath, I decided that as long as one particular actor didn’t make an appearance, I’d be all right. The last I’d heard about my ex-boyfriend, Tyson, was that he was overseas somewhere, filming another action movie. There was little to no chance that he’d be at this event tonight.
“Fine. But only for an hour,” I said, and he clasped his hands together and grinned.
“Brilliant! Make sure you dress up. And nothing cheesy. You’re representing all this,” he reminded me as he skipped away like he’d won some kind of battle.
To be honest, I wasn’t sure that he hadn’t.
Even though Greg and I lived in the same city, my home was on the outskirts of town and up a hill that overlooked the ocean from afar instead of right on the waterway with boat docks, like Greg’s.
My two-bedroom condo in Newport, which I owned without any cosigners, was my second big purchase after my car—a fully loaded electric BMW, which was all paid off.
Both things had been on my vision board since I’d started my company, and they made me feel successful and grown-up.
As I made the twenty-minute drive to my place, my thoughts skirted back to the past. For some reason, I couldn’t get Tyson Hunter out of my thoughts. And it wasn’t because I’d seen his perfectly smiling face staring at me from the gas station earlier either.
I’d always known that Tyson would make it as an actor. Back in college, when he had started going on auditions, he was always getting callbacks, but didn’t land any leading roles. We both knew it was only a matter of time. He had thatthingabout him, that unspoken energy that drew strangers to him.
Tyson was confident, charismatic, and talented. Plus, he hadthe look. The kind that made people stare. Everyone wanted a piece of him, but I was the only one he gave it to. I’d always felt lucky to be the one by his side. And not because of his impending fame, but because Tyson was kind, romantic, and considerate. He’d made me feel special.
At least, that was how he used to make me feel.
