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Noah’s political science degree had a limited number of useful applications in the real world. A lobbying organization was definitely one of the better options. “You could go to law school.”
“Ugh. No. I’ll leave the lawyering to Tristan, thank you very much. I like it here. I like the level I’m at here. I believe in what I’m doing and I have time for myself. It’s basically ideal. But you, my friend, are definitely on track to be second in command to Jackson when he takes over for Mr. Ballentine. Provided you don’t screw up. So, if you need help with this fundraiser, hit me up. I’ll do what I can.” Noah grinned as he stood.
“You might regret those words.” I could pretty much guarantee I’d be taking him up on the offer. Maybe between the two of us we’d be able to do the company proud. “You really aren’t finding a place to buy?”
Noah shrugged. “So far the leasing office doesn’t mind me being month-to-month. I guess I can step up the search if it looks like that’s going to change. Tristan keeps saying one of the condos in his building is supposed to come free, but so far it hasn’t happened. And at this point? Since I don’t know exactly what I want anyway? I’m content to wait and see.”
Noah had always been pretty laid back. It had made him a great roommate when we lived together. It probably made him a great employee, too. “All right. If you’re happy, I’m happy. You know I have extra bedrooms in my townhouse.”
“I do. But I kind of like having my own space.”
I nodded. I did, too. Even as great a roommate as Noah had been, there was something pleasant about rattling around after work, knowing I wasn’t accidentally going to annoy someone if I decided to put music on. “Fair enough. December fifteenth. Mark your calendar.”
“Already done. You should probably send out save-the-dates soon though, man. December fills up.”
My jaw dropped at Noah’s parting shot. Save-the-dates? Hadn’t those gone out already? The actual invites needed to be in the mail by…I paused and opened up a calendar on my computer monitor so I could count backward. The end of October? I felt like somewhere in all the information Jackson had spouted when he’d brought me the assignment, he’d mentioned eight weeks out for the invites.
I opened a new tab on my browser and searched “when should I send save-the-dates?” The results made me close my eyes and count to ten. Four to six months before? So, basically, last month or, even better, June.
Well, that ship sailed. Probably.
I moved to the shared drive and found the folder for the fundraisers. I blew out a breath. At least there was a folder for this year already. Maybe some work had been done before the whole cancer thing, and I wasn’t starting from scratch?
I clicked to open the folder and stared at the single document labeled “Timeline.” Well, let’s see what the expert recommended. I opened the document, read the first line, and started to laugh. If there was a hysterical edge to it, it couldn’t be helped. The timeline was from last year.
It was okay. It was all right. I could adjust it to this year. Of course, I couldn’t help but see all the items labeled for June, July, and August. All of which were far in the rearview mirror. Today was the first day of September.
Which meant I needed to kick it into high gear.
Save-the-dates. Did I need a venue first? I scanned the lists. Yeah, there it was. One of the first things. I closed my eyes and tried to remember all the various places we’d had this fundraiser in the past few years. Mostly hotels in DC. They were the typical, ritzy places to hobnob.
There was something to be said for inside. It was going to be December, after all. The weather around here was unpredictable. Some years, December could be in the fifties; others, freezing or below. And there was no way to know.
The safe choice would be that hotel ballroom. Maybe the St. Regis. Or any of the boutique hotels downtown. I opened a new browser tab and started making calls.
* * *
“What are you doing here?”
I laughed as Megan looked down at her watch then back up at me. “Is that how you greet all your customers?”
Her face blazed red. “Of course not. I’m just not used to seeing you here unless you’re with the guys. The guys who are, at this very moment, making their way to poker night.”
“At Tristan’s. Yeah, I know. I thought I’d dash in and get a book first. If that’s okay with you? This is a bookstore. Right?”
Megan’s eyebrows lifted. I didn’t let myself focus on how pretty she was. That way lay madness. “It is. Well done.”
I grinned, ignoring the sarcasm dripping off her words. I wasn’t what anyone would call a book aficionado. “Hey. I read.”
“Uh-huh. Tell me more.” Megan leaned forward. “What was the last book you read?”
I cleared my throat and looked away. There’d been talk of reading a Christian living book and expanding our guy time to include more serious discipleship instead of just fellowship and prayer. But we hadn’t actually pulled the trigger on anything officially yet.
“Right. That’s what I thought.” Megan chuckled. “So. What book do you need?”
“Ugh. Know-it-all isn’t the best look for you.”
“But I do it so well.” She batted her eyelashes.
