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Jessie shook her head. “I can’t. My uncle was supposed to meet with him a few weeks ago and had to cancel because of something. We can’t afford to blow him off again. It will be huge for the firm if we land the Ulrich account.”
Lacie squeezed Jessie’s arm gently. “We’ll make it work. I can help write the speech, and I can run to your penthouse and look through all your gowns and bring a few back to the office. If none of them fit or you dislike them, we’ll figure something out. We’ll find a stylist, even if we have to beg, borrow, or steal to get one. I mean, come on. Who in their right mind would turn down Jessie Marchand, one of the richest women in Manhattan?”
It sounded like a great plan, but Jessie was already spiraling, the pressures of the day closing in on her. She couldn’t see a way out.
“There’s no way, Lacie. The best stylists are already booked, and I don’t want to look like I’m just throwing something together at the last minute. This gala is important. It’s the first major event since I took over the company. We need to make a good impression.”
“Jessie, listen to me,” Lacie’s voice was firm, breaking through the chaos in Jessie’s head. “You’re Jessie freaking Marchand. You’ve faced far worse than this. You’ve been running this company from the shadows for almost two years, and no one does it better than you. We will get through this.
Jessie took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside her. Lacie was right. She had faced far worse. This was just another challenge, and she wasn’t about to let it defeat her. “Okay,” she said, her voice steadier. “Let’s start with the gowns. I’m not wearing an outdated dress. Can you run down to the Wren’s boutique and see if she has anything in my size? You know my taste and what style of dress looks decent on me.”
Lacie smiled, a relieved look taking over her expression. “I’m on it,” she said, running behind her desk and grabbing her purse. “I’ll text you some pictures of what I find.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
As Lacie headed toward the elevator, Jessie walked into her office to prepare for her meeting with Mr. Ulrich. No matter how hard she tried to tell herself everything would be okay, the day’s responsibilities still loomed over her.
???
Lacie flipped through another rack of gowns, her frustration mounting with every pass of her hand. There was nothing in Jessie’s size and nothing remotely suitable for the gala. The designer, a petite woman in her mid-fifties and one of Jessie’s go-to for years, stood by helplessly.
“I’m so sorry, Lacie,” the woman apologized for the third time, wringing her hands. “If I had known, I would’ve had something ready. But this is so last minute.”
Lacie forced a smile, not wanting the woman to feel any worse than she already did. “No, it's totally fine! Honestly, Jessie only decided to go at the last minute because of something that came up. It wasn’t your fault at all.”
The designer looked relieved, but that didn’t solve Lacie’s problem. Jessie was still without a gown for one of the biggest events of the year, and to make matters worse, she had no speech, no stylist, and no time.”
Just as Lacie was about to give up hope and call Jessie to break the bad news, her phone rang. She glanced down and saw an unknown number. With a sigh, she answered, her mind still racing with potential backup plans.
“Hello?”
“Lacie? It’s Mac.”
Lacie’s eyes widened in surprise. “Mac? Jessie’s still in her meeting.”
“I know,” Mac replied, his voice calm and steady. “I tried calling her, but it went straight to voicemail. I thought I’d check in with you to see if you knew when she might be finished.”
Lacie leaned against the nearest counter, her stress finally getting the better of her. “Honestly, Mac? I’m freaking out over here.”
“Tell me what’s going on,” Mac said, his tone still collected like he wasn’t fazed by anything.”
Lacie sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Jessie’s uncle called in sick this morning. He was supposed to be the company representative at the gala tonight, but now he can’t go, which means Jessie is now going in his place. But since she wasn’t planning on going, she didn’t have a dress, no speech prepared, and no stylists are available. She’s going to freak out when she gets out of her meeting, and I don’t have a backup plan. I’ve called every designer, every stylist in the city, but no one has anything available.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and for a moment, Lacie thought Mac would tell her there was nothing he could do. But instead, his voice came through, calm and reassuring.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of everything.”
Lacie blinked in disbelief. “You will? Mac, this a huge event. People book things like this months in advance. Dresses are specially ordered, and stylists are booked out forever—”
“Lacie,” Mac interrupted, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Trust me. I’ve got connections. Jessie will have a dress, a stylist, and whatever else she needs. Just relax.”
Lacie wanted to believe him; she really did, but the situation seemed impossible. “You really think you can pull this off? Do you have a magic wand like the fairy godmother, and with just one stroke of it, a dress, stylist, and a speech will appear?”
Mac chuckled. “Something like that,” he teased, but Lacie still wasn’t feeling confident.
“Lacie, trust me,” Mac said confidently. “I’ll handle it. Jessie won’t even know there was a problem.”
