was real confusion in her voice. Poor Amory could never understand my hesitation with men. I just had to be sure, and I found taking that step so difficult. “Well, you know why, Amory! Yes, he’s sweet, buff, financially secure… but my heart doesn’t beat a rhumba when he’s around. It just beats the same old boompety boom, as usual. And I don’t want to give him false hope if there’s nothing there for me.”
“Oh, darling, you and your obsession with visceral reactions. Won’t he do? For some fun, someone to have dinner with, dare I say someone to tangle in the sheets with after a bottle of wine on a Saturday night? Don’t you miss men?”
I debated whether to lie. “Not really. I don’t think about tangling in the sheets at all, because I know how much those sheets cost.”
Her mouth fell open and she laughed uproariously. “Clio, darling, you’re hopeless. You go around kissing Kai and then pretend you haven’t.” I opened my mouth to protest, but she held up her hand. “Don’t think I don’t know about that! But what does it mean? Look, if you won’t tell Kai you like him, and you won’t consider a measly date with Timothy, what are you going to do? Snuggle up to your Egyptian cotton sheets for the rest of your life?”
“You have to admit they are nice sheets.”
“Seriously, Clio!” Pink spots appeared on her cheeks. Scotty chose that moment to run over and try and climb up my leg like a tree. I scooped him up and buried my face in his fur; he really was the sweetest thing.
“OK,” I said, trying to take her more seriously. “I don’t know who I’m going to snuggle up to. I might have to borrow your puppy.”
“Nice try, but you cannot get away with a subject change like that with me and expect I won’t notice. You need to be honest with yourself, Clio. Don’t let two good men walk out of your life because you’re scared to admit how you feel.”
“Who said I’m scared?”
“It’s written all over you, in big, fat, capital letters.”
I sighed. “I think you’re loved up and you want me to be loved up too, so everyone at the Loved Up Lodge can be joyous and loved up. Not all of us are so lucky, you know.”
“I can see you won’t listen to reason.” She tried to appear huffy and I stifled laughter, but it spilled out regardless.
“Darling,” she moaned. “Why won’t you just give love a chance?”
I fell back on my chair, and she followed suit. “I would, I really would this time. But he’s not ready.”
“Who?”
“Kai.”
She raised her eyebrows, “How do you know? Have you asked him?”
“Trust me, I just do. He’s going through something major in his life right now and love is not on the cards. The timing just isn’t right, which is the story of my life.”
“And yet he’s here.” The sparkle was back in her eye and I realized I’d said too much… she wasn’t going to give up that easily. “Kai’s sorting out Cedarwood again, just like he never left.”
The next day, I called a team meeting. We had to move at lightning speed if we wanted the party to go smoothly, and luckily we were well adjusted to working under immense pressure. A lot of companies were closed over the Christmas/New Year period but we’d managed to get a number of things sourced and wheedled the suppliers into delivering on time.
We crammed into the kitchen; even though we had newly renovated and painted offices, we hung out like college kids around the table, close to the coffee pot and cookies. It was good brain food, right?
Thankfully, after Timothy’s visit yesterday, we’d already got the ball rolling on a lot of the finer points. As Amory lifted her iPad and showed us the invitation she’d made we all sighed. “Stunning, Amory. Did it get approved?” I asked. She had such a talent for design, I often thought she should use it for something other than just party invites.
“Still waiting to hear back. I’ve emailed…”
We had zero time to play phone tag, let alone email tag. I held up a finger and dialed Tim’s number, putting it on speaker so I didn’t have to relay the conversation. “Tim, it’s Clio. What did Vinnie say about the invites and overall plan for the party?”
There was a groan and I held my breath.
“Sorry for the hold-up, Clio. I’ve literally just hung up from him. He’s decided to go for a Gatsby theme. You know, black and gold and all that jazz. So I’m really sorry but the invitation will need to be changed.”
Gah! The team twitched nervously. A last-minute change in theme could really set us back. There seriously weren’t enough hours in the day to be making huge changes like that. But I bit my tongue and pressed on, remembering that the customer was always right: “Roaring Twenties, got it. Is he sure, though? Because if I order everything, we won’t have time to send it back if he changes his mind again.” It was almost impossible to keep the frustration from my voice because Amory and I had spent the morning sourcing table centerpieces and décor for the masquerade ball, not to mention that we had ordered most of it and convinced the suppliers to deliver the next day. Maybe we could swap it all for Gatsby-style products if we called them and explained our predicament as soon as I’d hung up from Tim… I nodded at Amory, who opened up our spreadsheet of suppliers and highlighted the ones we would have to call and plead with to let us change our order and still get it delivered on time.
“I know,” Timothy said with a sigh. “I tried to convince him we just don’t have time to change everything now, but Vinnie is convinced a Gatsby party reeks of glamour, and apparently that’s what we were missing.”
I laughed, but it came out more like a nervous, jittery squeak. “And the menu?” Cruz had sent in an order for a long list of ingredients already, and I knew for a fact they wouldn’t allow for any changes – we’d had problems with our supplier already, but we didn’t have much choice as there weren’t any other grocers in town.
“He wants a different menu.”
Cruz clutched his head, while Amory reached over to pat his back.
“What kind?” I asked, hoping he would say something simple.
“How about I email it over?” That didn’t sound good. I’d hoped Tim’s boss wasn’t an indecisive type. Maybe it was just nerves on his part? Either way, we couldn’t mess around our suppliers by chopping and changing orders. They’d soon tire of us, no matter how much future business we promised them.
“Email it now, Tim. And if we can’t return what we’ve already ordered, Vinnie will have to cover it. We’ll try and swap what we’ve sourced but I can’t promise anything.”
“I know, and that’s fine. I’ll email the new menu and call you this afternoon.”
“OK, thanks, Tim.”
I hung up feeling wired and frazzled. I hadn’t
