“Absolutely not.” I can picture her auburn head shaking in refusal. “We wanted so much more for you than what we were able to give you growing up, Sienna, and I’ll be damned if we start taking from you the things you’ve worked so hard to earn for yourself.” I swear I can sense Mom slashing her hand in the air. “Honey, I really appreciate you wanting to help us out, but we’re doing just fine, and as much as I’d love to go on that cruise, I just can’t give Mr. Towers any reason to lay me off.”
I know there’s no arguing with her about any of this. We’ve had this discussion many times since I started drawing a good income. I just wish they were more open to my help than they are.
I sigh again and run my free hand through the top of my hair.
Another call beeps through.
“Mom, I have to go. It’s the client.”
“OK,” she says, already her cheery, smiling self again so quickly. “But call me when you get a chance and let me know how everything’s going. I just know you’re going to have a wonderful time.”
“Thanks, Mom. I’ll call you soon.”
I rush through the day in a nerve-racking haze, barely stopping long enough to take a bathroom break.
Working long after the sun is swallowed up by the Pacific, we finally call it quits minutes after eleven o’clock, and I take immediate advantage of it. Instead of hanging around long after everyone else has turned in for the night so I can triple-check everything, I call it a day and go straight up to my suite.
I take a long hot shower, and I’m asleep moments after my head hits the pillow. Before I fall asleep, I find myself thinking about that guy in the red and black wetsuit. He was gorgeous from where I was standing—but I’m not here for that! Maybe Paige is rubbing off on me.
I wipe the guy from my mind and eventually fall fast asleep. I dream about that dreaded wrench all event coordinators fear will be thrown into the gears and ruin everything. It’s always there, looming in the back of my mind.
And then it happens.
THREE
Sienna
After putting on my makeup, I glance at the clock beside the bed just to make sure that I’m not running late, and am relieved to see that it’s not even eight in the morning. I’m not expected downstairs for another thirty minutes. But when my cell phone starts vibrating in my hand and I see that it’s my boss, Cassandra, I get a panicked feeling in my gut.
“Hello?”
“Sienna,” Cassandra says into the phone with a frantic tenor in her voice, “what on earth is going on?”
“I-I don’t know. What do you mean?”
My heart is beating a hundred miles a minute all of a sudden.
“Mrs. Dennings called me,” Cassandra says, “saying something about the caterer thinking he was supposed to be on Oahu a day later”—my palms are sweating—“and that the band received a cancellation notice? Sienna, I don’t know what this is all about, but you need to call me back as soon as you find out.”
My head feels like it’s on fire. I can’t imagine how high my blood pressure is right about now, but it would undoubtedly alarm a doctor.
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll call you right away. I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding. I’ll get it cleared up.”
“You better. If I lose this client, you lose your commission … and maybe more than that.” The acid in her voice, although laced with regret for having to resort to threats, burns right through me.
I hang up and step into my heeled sandals, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. I swing open my room door and rush down the hallway to the elevator. When the doors open on the ground floor, I pick up the pace and practically glide toward the reception building.
It’s a nightmare. And possibly the beginning of the end of my career. Veronica, the Evil Queen of Oahu, went behind my back and made phone calls to all the vendors even after I told her I had it under control, telling them God knows what. She must’ve done it later in the afternoon, after Paige made the calls for me, because everything was on schedule at that point.
Mrs. Dennings chews me out for a good five minutes, embarrassing me in front of at least fifteen people. I could tell Mrs. Dennings that Veronica is the one who did all of this, but now isn’t the time to point fingers. What little time there is left, I know I have to use trying to fix what Veronica broke.
Paige is nowhere to be found, having no idea what’s going on and still thinking she doesn’t have to be down here for another half hour. But I can’t even will myself to call her to help me because I know Paige, and she might make things worse by saying something to get us both fired. Paige’s fuse is much shorter than mine.
“This is a disaster,” Mrs. Dennings tells me with an angry pinched mouth. Her arms come uncrossed and she gestures her hands out in front of her angrily. A muscle begins to twitch rapidly at one corner of her mouth. “I hired Harrington Planners because I thought they were the best. And I will not accept anything less than the best for my daughter. Did I make a mistake?” Her glare pierces me like a hot poker to the face.
My mouth is incredibly dry. I can’t think straight, much less answer her straight. I need to buy some time, although I know that time is both expensive and elusive this close to the wedding tonight, and I’ve got to think of something quick.
If I can’t buy time, I’ll have to manipulate it.
“I’m on this right now,” I say, putting up a hand as a sign of assurance. “I don’t know how any of this happened”—a total lie—“but I’ll fix it.” I start to walk away, putting my phone to my ear as the caterer’s number begins to ring. “Ten minutes!” I call out to Mrs. Dennings as I get farther away. “Don’t worry about anything!”