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The compliment warmed her. “Thank you.” She swept an appreciative gaze over him in his perfectly tailored tuxedo. He looked every inch a successful novelist on the way up.
He held out his arm. “Well, shall we?”
She smiled and linked her arm with his. “Lead the way.”
He escorted her into the convention hall at a local five-star hotel. She was there an hour early to fix any problems that might occur.
“I need to check on things. Why don’t you have a drink at the bar? I’ll join you in half an hour.”
Jake gazed around the room. Staff bustled around, setting up the area. He nodded at Monica and Gary as they placed floral arrangements on the tables.
“Okay, I guess you can’t get in any trouble here. I’ll meet you in half an hour. It’ll give me time to check in with my editor, Mike Barnes. He’s probably lurking around the bar.”
She could feel his tension. It was an important night for him. Win or lose, being nominated for an award was an honor. Coming out of anonymity was a big step for him, too. “Don’t worry, Jake. I’m sure that the evening will be a huge success. The press is going to be very impressed with you.”
“Right.” He brushed a kiss across her lips and turned. “Remember, I’m just a shout away if you need my help.”
She watched him walk away, thinking what a difference a few days could make. Just a week ago, she was an inexperienced late bloomer. Now she was every inch a woman. Jake’s woman. She smiled at the thought, but reminded herself she had a business to run. Even though she wasn’t supposed to work this evening, she wanted to ensure the event ran smoothly.
She walked toward Monica, who stood by the head table, clipboard in hand, directing the activities.
She looked up at her approach and gave Samantha’s formal attire an appreciative once-over. “Nice dress.”
“Thanks.” Samantha smiled at her surprised reaction. The gown was very feminine and, at the same time, elegant. Her new confidence was attributable to one man. Jake. “So, how’s it going?”
Monica frowned. “Not so good. Someone spilled bleach on our red table linens.” She took the lid off a plastic bin and pulled out a red napkin, now marred with white and pink splotches. A strong odor of bleach wafted into the air. “The whole batch is like this. The laundry swears they had nothing to do with it.”
Samantha gazed at the mess, alarmed. The whole bin was a complete loss. “Oh no! We don’t have time to bring in our backup supply.”
“Don’t worry, boss. All is not lost. The hotel has agreed to let us use theirs for a small fee. So, I guess white linens will have to do.”
“Right.” Samantha relaxed. “Are there any other mishaps I should be aware of?”
Monica winced. “The florist delivered lilies instead of the roses we were expecting.” She handed the statement to Samantha. “He said you changed the order. Did you?”
Samantha glanced at the bill in frustration. “Of course not. Someone must have messed up at Parkinson’s Floral. It’s too late to get new flowers delivered.”
“Don’t panic, boss. Gary, Rose, and I did a little creative arranging. We’ll make do.”
She gazed at the sparse but colorful arrangements. “Thanks. You three did great, considering what you had to work with.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Thank you for all your hard work. You guys are absolutely the best staff ever.”
Monica looked at her inquisitively. “So, what are you doing here? You not scheduled to work this function.”
“Jake is one of the nominees. I’m here as his guest.”
Monica’s eyes widen. “The new soda jerk is a mystery writer?”
“Yes.” Samantha felt herself blush under the knowing gleam in Monica’s eye.
“He’s your boyfriend,” Monica said, breaking into a delighted grin. “No wonder Grayson got so hot under the collar when he saw his arm around you the other morning.”
“Jake and I have been seeing each other since I broke off my engagement.” Samantha recalled the scene at her apartment and sighed. “Grayson isn’t taking it very well.”
“Don’t worry about what that bozo thinks. When it’s right, it’s right. St. James was wrong for you, but Jake is right. You two generate enough heat to start a bonfire.”
