Page 65
“Why does the kid thing matter? She got an angry ex somewhere?” he asks.
“The father is MIA,” I say.
Tuck nods and then stops. “How old is the kid?”
“He’s four,” I say.
Tuck stares at me.
“What?” I ask.
He waits. Then says, “Nothing. I just think you failed to mention the biggest thing at stake here.”
“Which is?” I ask because I am done with this conversation.
“Your heart.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“If there’s a lot at stake for you as her boss, imagine how much is at stake for her. Her job would go first, not yours. Then there’s her relationship with her dad and a child she’s raising alone that I’m sure she protects with her very essence. If you did try to seal the deal, she might reject you, and that scares you more than anything.”
I am seething at what he just said to me. Luckily, I don’t have to tell him to get the fuck back to work because his walkie crackles followed by a security concern in the VIP lot. Tuck pats my shoulder and walks out, leaving me alone with my thoughts. The ones I had before and a fucking mess of new ones.
Chapter 25
Natalie
As I walk through the Mission Events building towards the elevators, I can’t help but feel good. I am carrying my bag, my phone and tablet, an iced coffee and water bottle, and a smile on my face. It’s not the first time I’ve been to a planning meeting for an event, but this event is different. It’s the Girls’ Education Charity Gala, one of the biggest events of the year in the country. It’s going to be in Miami at the Cape Crystal Hotel, an Ashford resort. The budget is sky-high, and the guest list is high-profile, and I am going as Marcus Ashford’s date.
Date.
I bite my lip thinking about that. As I reach the elevator, Dylan and Charlie step next to me on either side.
“Have you seen this guest list?” Charlie asks, punching the button on the elevator.
“I have,” I smile broadly.
“Emma Watson, Millie Bobby Brown, Malala Yousafzai,” he rattles off.
“Obviously,” Dylan says. “She’s like the women’s ambassador.”
“And for entertainment, Olivia Rodrigo,” he says, and when I don’t respond, he says it again. “Freaking Olivia Rodrigo!” Charlie shrieks as we step inside the elevator. “How did I, second in command of Mission Events’ marketing team, not know that the Vampire Queen herself was going to be at the gala?!”
“Marcus kept things very hush, hush,” I state.
“Yeah he did,” Dylan mutters skeptically. “I didn’t even know, and I’m in charge of place cards. Then I saw Jordan Fisher’s name, who may also be performing, seated at the table nearest to the stage with his wife and Dove Cameron. And, oh, by the way, Olivia Rodrigo.”
“Jordan Fisher’s that super cute Broadway guy, right?” I ask.
“Dove Cameron too?! I’m not just in the dark on the event; I’m completely out of the loop!” Charlie wails and I just laugh.
“It is a very high-profile party, yes,” I say calmly, but inside, I am shrieking with excitement. I love Broadway! I saw Little Shop of Horrors in New York City and Jordan played Seymour. I’m usually into men a good stretch older than me (I admit it, it’s a kink), but Jordan is too talented not to care about.
“We still have to remember there’s a lot of work to do.”
“A lot of work to do,” Dylan mimics me. “Listen to you.”
“What?” I ask. “I’m the director of events.”
