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"You look beautiful, too," I say as I reach her.
She does a little twirl in her burgundy knee-length dress.
"I hope that means the nerves aren't showing too much then," she jokes.
"I am literally afraid I'll sweat through my dress before the guests even begin arriving."
"Why? You paid so much attention to everything. It's perfect."
"First thing I learned in school is that if something can go wrong, it will go wrong."
Her eyes widen in alarm. "That's a terrifying thought."
"Exactly, so let's get to work before the guests start showing up."
She nods and we turn to walk side by side through the room that will receive the guests. The entryway to the main, massive hall where the event will be held is laid with a white carpet, gold stands lining the path with flower arrangements on top of each. The two women who will handle the arriving guest are alreadywaiting in the black and white outfits all staff will wear tonight. The tablets with the guest lists and the seats that an usher will escort them to are on the table beside each of them, on either side of the carpet. I give them grateful nods and a smile as I pass them. Then, I see the hall all put together for the first time. It's breathtaking.
"Told you it was perfect.”
It certainly looks like it is. At the front of the room is the huge black stage, where I see the band, the one Heather selected, setting up. We wave at each other and then my gaze moves to the left of the room, where the white bar sits, gold teardrop crystals against the wall behind the prepping bartenders. I breathe a little easier, at least knowing those two things are okay. On the right side of the room, tables are set up for the silent auction. White tablecloths with gold picture frames atop it. Each frame holds a different item of service being auctioned. I force myself to ignore that one of the things being auctioned is a year of personal training at Jeremiah and Ezekiel's local gym. In front of each frame is a white tablet for people to enter their bids on until the time runs out.
"Okay, now to focus on the most important part," I say, focusing on the tables and seats.
Twenty circular tables, six seats around each. White tablecloths with a gold lace tablecloth lay atop each. The centerpieces are tall rectangular gold, glass vases with white roses inside. Around them are smaller roses in three-inch-tall solid gold vases. Champagne glasses with gold rims, small gold plates with larger white ones beneath them, and gold forks and spoons lined up beside them in neat rows. The white ceiling has gold squares on it, which made it easy for me to decide on a color scheme, and crystal chandeliers that hang from within each square, casting the room is a beautiful glow.
I release a heavy breath. "Okay, it doesn't look like a rookie threw it together."
Heather chuckles, bumping her hip into mine. "It looks amazing."
"Let me go check in with Jackson. You make sure the band has everything they need."
"On it."
We walk off in our separate directions and I head to the kitchen. As soon as I go in, I'm surrounded by smells that make me want to stay in this room for the rest of the night. Jackson looks over his shoulder, smiling when he sees it's me.
"Everything smells absolutely amazing," I tell him while he walks over to me.
"Of course," he says as he hugs me. "Everything else going okay?"
"God, I hope so." I nervously chuckle. "But I find as long as the food is good, that's all anyone really remembers.
He barks out a laugh. "Now, that is true, and you have nothing to worry about on that count."
"All right, well, I won't hold you up. Charlotte is on her way?"
"Yes, mad as hell that she gained weight since she bought her dress last week."
I give him an exasperated face. "And I'm sure she still looks incredible."
"Yup. But she won't take it from me."
"I'll tell her too, then."
He smiles. "Thanks. I'll see you soon."
I nod and turn to leave the kitchen. When I come back into the hall, I find Heather has moved on from the band to talking to the people handling the silent auction. I look over the room again, wishing that I could feel as excited about this victory as I know I should. But hanging over everything is Jeremiah and Ezekiel. In the days since I ran from the gym, Jeremiah and I have continued to text, keeping things simple, basic questions and answers, jokes back and forth, all messages just between him and I. A part of me savored each message, the hope that things could return to normal so we could stop texting like some weird sort of friends. Another part of me felt like I was torturing him, just drawing things out that would most likely not work out for either of us. Especially since I'd only gotten one text from Ezekiel since the gym. Just three words long.
I miss you.
