Chapter 24
Otto
The Gala
The day of the gala is finally here! All our hard work will come to fruition tonight. The last week has been a sprint to the finish line, but Mia and I are a great team. Everything is going to go exactly as planned, at least that’s what I’ve been telling Miss Robinson. Every item in that dang 200-line project spreadsheet has been checked, double-checked, and marked as complete.
Despite the playful theme, the deans insisted that the event have a formal dress code. I rented a tux for the occasion. Mia has been tight lipped about her ensemble, but Emma let it slip that the outfit is “hot” so, of course, I can’t wait to see it. Just to pull my co-lead’s chain, I shoot off an email this morning and wait for her reaction.
Subject: Formal Attire
Dear Ms. Robinson,
I’ve rented a tiny tuxedo for Pete so he can accompany me to tonight’s gala. Would you also like me to rent a formal gown for Bambi? If so, a photo of your gown would be helpful so you and Bambi will coordinate rather than clash. Please include pics from all angles.
Your loyal servant,
Otto
P.S. As you know Floyd is still MIA and unable to attend tonight’s festivities.
Laughing I press send and wait.
About twenty minutes later, my email notification chimes. I check my Inbox and grin when I see that it’s from Mia. I proceed to read the latest missive from my co-lead.
Subject: Formal Attire
Dear Mr. Stagmeier,
See attached photos of my gown for tonight’s event. If you can find something this charming for Bambi, please do so.
Best Regards,
Mia
P.S. Will you also be bringing an aquarium?
Shoot! Now, I’ll have to make up an illness for the goldfish or some other excuse as to why they can’t attend. Ignoring that problem, I eagerly click on the attached photos.
My jaw drops, then I howl with laughter. Could this possibly be Mia’s high school prom dress? All the frills, ruffles, and bows make my retinas burn. The atrocious color is somewhere between mustard yellow and olive green. It immediately evokes images of unpleasant things such as—well, I’ll leave it to you to come up with the list.
The voluminous dress swamps Mia’s figure, making her look five times larger. The ruffle around her shoulders suggests that she’s about to take flight. There’s nothing flattering about the dress and the expression on Mia’s face confirms that. I have to give her props for sharing something like this and being willing to make fun of herself. Quickly penning a reply, I chuckle and hit send.
Subject: Formal Attire
Dear Ms. Robinson,
Wow! Your dress photos leave me quite speechless. I’m not sure I can find something so alluring for Bambi at this late hour. As such, I’ve decided to leave both goldfish at home. On the other hand, I am looking forward to seeing you in this positively indescribable dress.
With sunglasses at the ready,
Otto
There are still a couple of items on my “to do” list before I head over to the Marriott, so I grab my tux and depart. After seeing those photos, I’m even more eager to see Mia’s real gown. Hopefully there’s not a ruffle in sight.
~*~
The grand ballroom is hopping when I arrive. The tables are all set up with the brightly colored tablecloths we selected, workers are scurrying around putting out the centerpieces. Metal clinks ring through the room as workers carefully arrange the china and silverware.
“Otto!” Mia calls as she walks towards me, a smile gracing her pretty face. Since it’s still several hours before the event, she’s wearing blue jeans and a Golden Stars sweatshirt. I’m sporting a similar outfit.
I want to give her a kiss, but with all this activity around us, I forego the kiss and bow instead. “At your service, My Lady.”
She rolls her eyes. “We need to set up the silent auction table. Follow me!”
The silent auction prizes, packed in various containers, are stacked beside a table that spans the length of the back of the room.
“Looks like we need to unpack and arrange the items so there’s plenty of space for people to write their bids,” I observe.
“Correct. I’ve printed off the bidding sheets. We’ll put them on clipboards, along with a pen. Which job do you want? Unpacking or loading clipboards?” Mia asks.
“I’ll unpack and set out the items. We can rearrange them once they’re all on the table. You load clipboards,” I answer.
“Will do,” she says and gets to work.
Forty-five minutes later, Mia and I are debating whether to put Levi’s Ducks jersey at the center of the table or as the first item on display. I can see arguments for either, although Mia’s insistent it should go in the center. Miss Bettencourt walks in, making a beeline towards us.
“We have a slight problem,” she says sounding out of breath.
“What kind of problem?” Mia asks, concern leaking from her voice.
“The caterer has four people who called in sick at the last minute. He needs some re-enforcements to assist in the kitchen.”
“Can’t you call in extra staff?” I ask. Surely the Marriott has a huge staff and some of them would be willing to work at this event.
“I’ve been calling and only found one person so far,” Felice says, wringing her hands.
Mia turns to me and exclaims, “Let’s call Joey and Emma!”
We each remove our phones from our pockets and place the calls. I hear Mia talking to Emma when Joey finally answers.
“Joey, I need your help,” I say, without preamble.
“With what?” he asks. “If you need a singer to accompany the band, I’m in.”
I cringe when I remember how bad Joey’s voice sounds when he sings Karaoke. “That’s a gracious offer, but we need someone to work the kitchen with the caterer. Mia’s on the phone right now asking Emma to fill-in.”
“I’d be working with her? We haven’t exactly bonded so far,” Joey grumbles.
True. Emma and Joey seem to avoid each other, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
“After everyone is served, you’ll get a free meal and can enjoy the band,” I bribe, knowing that Joey is always in for free food.
He grunts. “Okay, I’ll do it, but I better get two free meals.”
“That works for me. Can you get here in thirty minutes?” Joey agrees. I hang up, then turn to Mia. “Well? Will Emma help?”
“I had to twist her arm, but she said yes. She and Joey don’t like each other, do they?”
“I’m not sure if it’s dislike or whether they’re fighting off their attraction to each other,” I reply.
Mia’s eyes go wide. “I think you’re on to something!” she exclaims.
“Now, don’t get any matchmaking ideas,” I warn.
She blinks at me and grins. “Would I do that?”
Ignoring that comment, I reply, “I promised Joey two free meals, so I better go speak to the caterer.”
“Make that three. I also promised one for Emma,” Mia says as I stride off.
One small hiccup, but we solved it quickly. I cross my fingers that nothing else goes wrong.