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I have to stop and think. “You know, I have no idea. Now I have something to ask him about on our date.” My baked ziti has cooled to a tolerable degree of heat, so I start shoveling it in my mouth with purpose.
“You were telling me why you like Kel.”
“Well, I don’t know him very well yet. That’s why we’re going on a first date.”
Ophelia leans forward, elbows on her knees, as she stares down from her chair. “Is he hot?”
I couldn’t stop the heat that floods my cheeks even if I wanted to. “So hot. He’s got that Zack Morris, Lucas Scott, California vibe, even if he’s not exactly friendly. And the muscles on this guy—he picked me up and moved me from place to place like I weighed no more than his kid.” I fan myself half-seriously at the memory of it.
Once I give Ophie a thorough rundown of exactly how hot Kel is, she lets me change the subject to the potential new wedding client I scored last weekend.
“It’s a big deal, Ophie. Angela Wright is marrying one of the Blazers players. This could be huge for my business.” I’ve been researching all the best possible venues in Portland for Angela and her professional-basketball-playing fiance for our Monday meeting. I don’t know if they are planning to have the wedding here in town, or if they want some kind of destination wedding, but I’ve already begun work on a slide deck with both options.
“If you need help, just let me know. As long as I can work it around my class schedule.” Jumping at the opening, I get Ophie to talk about her classes and successfully steer the conversation away from myself.
Ophie had been about to leave Seattle for her graduate program here in Portland when Frank called off our wedding. A week later, I’d had to fend off the unwelcome advances of a client’s brand new father-in-law while I’d been hiding in the coatroom for a quiet cry over my broken heart. The resulting blow up had ended with me walking out on the job and away from the highly respected event planning company I’d been working at. I’d packed my car and shown up on Ophie’s doorstep on her first day of classes.
I’ve spent the last year building my company from the ground up and reclaiming my days instead of spending all my time waiting to find out what Frank wanted me to do, say, or be.
Maybe Ophie has a point—maybe it is time for me to stop hiding from the rest of the world. I’ve spent a year reclaiming my space and my choices. Maybe it’s time to reclaim my heart, too.
The coffee I’d ordered while I waited for Angela and Scott to join me churns in my belly. A triple espresso probably wasn’t the greatest idea, but I haven’t gotten a decent night’s sleep all week, between excitement and nerves for this meeting and dreams of Kel that leave me annoyingly needy when I wake up.
“Magnolia?” The tiny brunette with the giant rock comes bouncing up to my table.
I push to my feet, wiping my hands off on my slacks before extending a hand to the bouncy woman. “Hi, Angela, nice to see you again.”
“Oh, I’m a hugger,” is the only warning I get before her arms wrap around me and I’m staring over her shoulder at a giant of a man. He towers over us both. I’d guess he’s nearly seven feet of lean athlete. His dreads are longer than I expected, but stylishly braided back into an intricate half up, half down style that sets off the firm line of his jaw.
Angela pulls back and tucks her arms through his elbow. “Magnolia, this is my fiance Scott. Scott, Magnolia is the one I was telling you about who did such beautiful decorations for Tiffany’s shower.”
“Please, call me Maggie.” I reach out to shake his free hand before indicating they should join me at the table. “Did you get coffee already?”
“Scott already ordered for us.” Angela gives him the same adoring look I used to give Frank. I swallow back my sadness, remembering why I stopped doing weddings when I moved down here, but determined to reclaim yet another part of my life.
Scott looks on with a soft smile as Angela dives into the details of her vision for their wedding. It turns out that the actual wedding is going to take place in his hometown of Atlanta, but not until next summer. First, they need help with planning an engagement party here in Portland.
“I know the timeline is super short, but we were really hoping to have the engagement party over Thanksgiving weekend, while all our families are in town.” Angela looks so hopeful, I don’t know how to tell her that planning this party in six weeks is going to be nearly impossible. “Everyone else I’ve talked to has been booked up already. You’re my last hope, Maggie.”
If I want to make a name for myself here in Portland, this is the way to do it. It’s going to be a scramble, but Thanksgiving was the one weekend I don’t already have an event booked. I take a deep breath and push aside my concerns. “It’s going to be tight, but I think we can make it happen.” I reach out to shake Angela’s hand.
With a face-splitting grin, Angela pulls me in for an awkward hug over the table. “Thank you, thank you! I’ve been so nervous about this—especially when we couldn’t find someone to help right away. I’ve never planned a fancy event like this, and I’m terrified I’ll do something tacky by accident.” Angela talks a mile a minute, Scott looking on and occasionally agreeing with her. Mostly he keeps reassuring her she can have whatever she wants, telling me to give Angela whatever she wants, and making sure that I know the colors of his rival teams that absolutely cannot be present.
We’ve been at it for almost thirty minutes, and I’m pretty sure in Angela’s mind, she’s already hired me. She’s already debating between two of the venues on my list when Scott speaks up.
“Babe, don’t forget, we have to make sure there’s space for a step and repeat at the entrance. Coach said we should hire some security, too.”
I blink, Scott’s words sinking in. Media? Security? “Remind me of who is going to be on this guest list, Scott?” I ask, my mind reeling.
He starts spouting off names that seem vaguely familiar, and it dawns on me that this engagement party is going to be a bigger deal than I originally imagined. I let my panic wash over me for exactly two seconds before stuffing it down and pulling out my notebook. “Right, I will start contacting some security places, unless you can recommend someone you already work with. And will I need to be in contact with the team’s PR team about anything?”
As I wave goodbye to the happy couple, my mind fires off in a hundred different directions. The weight of this party and what it could mean for my business is the only thing keeping me from floating away. Not to mention that I still have all the other jobs on my client list—I don’t have a free weekend from now until then.
My phone buzzes with an incoming text and I grab it, assuming it’s Angela with another idea, but it’s not. It’s the group chat with my mother and sisters. As usual, my mom and Daisy have been on a roll about me doing something stupid.
Mom: Good morning, girls. I just wanted to get a head start on making Thanksgiving plans. Everyone is still planning to come to our house, correct?
Daisy: Me, Dave and the kids will be there. Are you and dad planning to do the turkey and potatoes?
