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Just then, the woman of the hour came out to talk to us.
“Shall we get started?” Barb sat down, pulling a notepad out of her apron.
Whitney sat up straighter. “Where’s everyone else?”
Barb’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean everyone else?”
Whitney’s eyes widened. “I mean, the committee. Where’s the rest of the planning committee?”
“Oh.” Barb laughed loudly. “We don’t have anyone else and now that we’ve officially hired you, I can take a step back and let you take over. You’re the expert after all.” The older woman smiled, patting Whitney’s hand.
I sat back in my chair, watching the whole thing play out. Barb cooked up this whole situation so that Whitney and I could spend time together.
I’d have to send her a thank-you card.
“But.” Whitney looked at Barb, then at me. She sat back, crossing her arms while trying to process this new information. “You made it seem like there’d be a team of people working on this.”
“Why would I do that?” Barb’s eyes glinted.
Whitney leaned forward. “I see right through you.”
Barb just chuckled as if she were watching a standup set at a local comedy club.
Barb and I had a lot in common when it came to Whitney Rose. We both wanted what was best for her and were stubborn enough to know when to fight back.
Whitney sat back in her chair, sinking a little lower. After a deep breath and a brief pause to close her eyes, I watched as the muscles in her shoulders relaxed. When she opened her eyes, she looked at Barb and then looked at me. It was quite the transformation. Suddenly, sassy Whitney disappeared, and business Whitney had taken her place.
It was doing things to me that it shouldn’t.
“Shall we get started?”
Chapter 12
Whitney
I hatedthat Barb caught me off guard. I worked with demanding, high-profile clients on a regular basis and never had any trouble keeping calm. Yet when Barb informed me the gala planning committee only consisted of two people, me and Jack, I almost lost my mind.
Hell, I’m surprised literal steam didn’t come pouring out of my ears.
Barb looked at me with a mixture of motherly concern and “get the hell over it.” Whereas Jack just looked like he wanted a bowl of popcorn to go along with the Whitney show.
I’m a professional, damn it. I needed to start acting like it.
After a deep, calming breath, I got my footing. Events I could handle, so I needed to focus on the event at hand.
I leaned over to where I dropped my purse on the ground, pulling out my gala binder, a blank notepad, and a pen. I’d re-type everything tonight when I got home, but I liked the analog nature of paper and pen. Something tangible that I could hold and doodle on and have as messy as possible as I brainstormed my ideas.
Then I looked up and said the only thing I could think to say.
“Shall we get started?”
Barb jumped in, not skipping a beat. “Well, we haven’t done much, so now is a great time for you to step in and replace me.” Her eyes shot to me as if expecting me to protest.
I knew that despite her meddling, Barb was only looking out for me. A lot was riding on this gala. As the new person in town, I needed to prove myself as a trusted event planner, especially if I wanted to pay the bills. Sure, my savings provided a nice cushion, but I wouldn’t survive without a steady income stream, not so much financially, but mentally. I needed the challengeandthe security of a regular paycheck. This would prove to be one of my biggest challenges yet. Working alongside Jack would prove tougher than my most difficult bridezilla clients.
And trust me, there were some doozies.
Barb started sharing the history of the gala, before jumping into the specifics. I jotted down notes, making sure I didn’t miss a thing.
