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 met Vinnie in person, and going through a middleman always created conflict. As Vinnie was out of town it made sense for Tim to be the go-between, but not if Vinnie was going to change his mind all the time. My phone pinged with an email.
“Go on, read it,” Amory said. “I bet he’s got something ridiculous written there and that’s why he wouldn’t say it on the phone.”
I shook my head. “If it says Beluga caviar from the Caspian Sea, I’m quadrupling the price. We don’t have time for this.”
“Do you think Vinnie’s a flake?” Amory asked, wrinkling her brow. What she meant was, someone who’d pull out of the party last-minute, with nothing paid, nothing promised, a time waster of the worst kind.
“Maybe we should send a pre-party invoice?”
“Let’s,” Amory agreed. “Just in case.” We’d been stung before at the agency in New York. I’d learned pretty quickly that, just because people had recognizable names, didn’t mean they were on the level. After a few mishaps where we’d been left sans client, we’d changed our practices and got a deposit upfront if they were a little skittish. No one liked paying ahead, celebs hated parting with their money (go figure), but it was insurance, not only for the agency but also for us keeping our jobs. Here at Cedarwood we definitely couldn’t afford to be left in the lurch.
“Perhaps we make that a stipulation going forward, Amory?” I said. “While our clients so far haven’t been celebs, we also don’t want to foot the total bill if they’re a no-show.”
I wasn’t used to worrying about the money side of things – in New York someone else had always done the tallying – but here I had to be in charge of it all, and we were learning on the run. Thank God Amory was here.
“I’ll email Tim an invoice and all our terms now,” she said as her fingers flew
