CHAPTER FOUR
When I’d pictured myself being brave, I’d never imagined that I’d be in the office bathroom splashing water on my face and trying to calm down.
It didn’t help matters that Vella was glued to my side, encouraging me like a demented goth cheerleader. “You can do this. I believe in you!”
“Right. I can.”
There was a fleeting expression on her face, so quick I nearly missed it, but I saw the annoyance mixed with pity, and it made all my nervous feelings intensify. I had to calm down, to focus. I remembered a trick my mother had once taught me and put my fisted hands on my hips, widening my stance.
“What are you doing?” Vella asked.
“It’s a superhero stance. Apparently there’s studies that say it actually improves your confidence.”
“That’s not going to work,” she said. She was right—it wasn’t inspiring positive feelings. All I felt was a little silly. “Try spinning around like Wonder Woman.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
It couldn’t hurt. I shrugged and did as she suggested. I spun around several times with my arms out wide, imagining that I was a powerful Amazon about to conquer Elevated.
I came to a stop and put my hands on the sink until I regained equilibrium.
“How do you feel?” she asked.
“Honestly? A little dizzy.”
“Maybe that’s a good thing. You’ll be focused on your spinning head and not your anxiety. Go ask him now. And we’ll go shopping after work as a reward for your bravery.”
I nodded. I wasn’t going to get what I wanted if I didn’t go after it. Even if I liked staying on the sidelines, I knew that I had to march onto the field and ask for my chance to play the game. I opened the bathroom door and started walking toward Adrian’s office.
“I don’t know why I’ve been put into this position. You’re supposed to be the encouraging one,” Vella said.
“Maybe we’re rubbing off on each other.”
She scowled. “I don’t want to be cheerful.”
“Sorry not sorry.”
We arrived at my desk, and I took a couple more deep breaths. Despite her protesting that she wasn’t interested in cheering me on, she said, “You’ve got this.”
I went into Adrian’s office before I could change my mind, trying to calm my erratic breathing. I wanted to do a Kool-Aid Man exit through Adrian’s wall, but I stayed put.
“I need to ask you something,” I said to him.
He didn’t even glance up from his phone. “Yes?”
Part of me wanted to chicken out again, but I steeled my spine and squared my shoulders. “Tomorrow, I want ... I want to pitch at Claudia’s potential-client meeting. I know I don’t have the title of event planner yet, but I’d like to head that direction and so I wanted to ask you if that would be okay.” My words came out in a big whoosh and my heart thudded hard in my chest as I waited.
“Yeah, sure. That’s fine with me. Hey, what is the password for my TikTok account again? I can’t remember it.”
I took his phone and put in the password and handed it back to him. He thanked me, and in a daze, I walked back to my own desk. I texted Vella, letting her know that I’d done it, he’d said yes, and the Wonder Woman spin had worked.
She sent me back a bunch of emojis I didn’t understand, including a witch’s hat and a left-pointing arrow.
I set my phone down and thought about how Adrian had agreed so easily that I felt incredibly embarrassed for not asking him earlier.
Maybe after the pitch meeting, if my idea was selected, he and I could revisit the idea of my getting a promotion. I’d promise to train my replacement really well, but I wanted the chance to do more.
To stand in the spotlight for a little bit.
And it had been a long time since I’d felt like that.
Adrian left early in the afternoon without telling me where he was going. Which meant that I was able to leave promptly at five o’clock and go shopping at Vella’s favorite thrift store with her. She had a long list as to why we were only allowed to shop for clothes at secondhand stores, but my primary reason for shopping there was that it was the only place I could afford.
Within a few minutes Vella already had a big pile of clothing draped over her arm and I absentmindedly flipped through their dress section.
Until I came across something that made my heart start racing and my hands fall to my sides.
It was the blue-and-white Monti dress that Queen Katerina had worn on her visit to India with her husband a few years ago. She wore only Monterran designers, and this had been one of my favorite looks on her. I loved her style. The dress had sold out within minutes online after she wore it, so even if I could have afforded it, I never would have been able to grab one before they were gone.
There was no way this was her actual dress, given that I was in New York and Kat’s dresses were probably in a museum somewhere, but it looked exactly the same. I wanted to see if it was an actual Monti dress, but there was no tag. It could be a replica. But none of those things mattered. I had to buy this. I didn’t even care how much it cost.
Or what size it was. If it was too small, I’d put on some Spanx or something to force it to fit. I checked the tag, sure it wouldn’t be my size, but to my sheer delight, it was.
I took it off the rack and held it in front of me, marching over to the cashier. I couldn’t believe this was about to be mine.
It felt like a sign from the universe that things were about to turn around for me.
I wore the dress to work the next day. It was a bit more casual than the sort of attire I usually wore, but it was giving me an incredible boost of confidence to wear something exactly like what Kat had worn. She was always so sure of herself, of her place in the world, and she went after the things she wanted.
As bizarre as it might have sounded, I felt like this dress was imbuing me with some of her strength.
Last night, after I’d hand-washed the dress and left it out to dry, I’d spent the rest of the evening working on my plans for today.
The potential client was a teenage girl named Hyacinth Albrecht. Her family was from the Washington, DC, area, where her father had some kind of business. I didn’t fully grasp what they did exactly, but whatever it was, it seemed to involve owning actual money trees.
Hyacinth was about to turn sixteen years old, and she wanted an extravagant, luxurious party here in New York City to celebrate. I’d spent a lot of time looking at her social media, trying to get a feel for what she’d enjoy, and I had tons of ideas running around in my head. I figured that after meeting her, I’d have a better sense of what she might gravitate toward.
I went into the meeting feeling like a million bucks. I wondered how much a tiara would cost and whether it would be too ridiculous if I wore that to the office, too.
Everybody filed into the conference room, and Adrian sat in his usual spot at the head of the table. He looked annoyed, while Claudia seemed very sure of herself and pleased with the situation.
Vella led Hyacinth and her mother, a woman named Marie, into the conference room. Claudia greeted them, shaking Marie’s hand.
Hyacinth didn’t look up from her cell phone, even when they sat down in their chairs. Claudia told them a bit about what we did, and how we would love it if they would choose us to plan their event. “We have some of the best event planners in the industry right here in this room. You will get personalized, concierge-level attention, and you won’t have to worry about a single thing. We will handle every single detail for you.”
Marie glanced at Hyacinth, maybe hoping for some engagement, but the teenager ignored all of us.
Claudia continued, “What kind of budget were you planning on? And how many guests were you planning on inviting?”
Marie mentioned a mid–six figures number that made me want to gasp. It was more than some rich people spent on their weddings! I’d never had a budget that high. Marie added that they were expecting about two hundred and fifty people, making it a bigger budget than most of our corporate clients would spend on a much larger audience. We were going to be able to do so much with that.
“We had an event planner prior to this, but we had to part ways when we realized that our visions didn’t align,” Marie said, and there was a slightly bitter tone to her voice. “As I mentioned in my email, we already have a venue secured and the invitations sent. We are planning on most of our guests flying in and staying at the hotel. We are short on time—Hyacinth’s birthday is only three weeks away.”
There was some fidgeting and mumbling around me, but no one expressed their surprise out loud. We usually had months and months to plan events. Less than thirty days? That was fast. It could easily be done with enough money, though, so long as the clients were decisive and would trust our input. We would also need to have the vendors return phone calls and follow through with their promises.
Eighty percent of event planning was babysitting vendors.
But again, with the kind of cash Marie was willing to spend, I guessed that the vendors we contacted would be very happy to do as we asked.
“Do you have an idea of what you’d like, Hyacinth?” Claudia asked.
“Something not stupid,” she mumbled, again avoiding eye contact. At least she would speak when spoken to—that was good.
But it wasn’t a lot to go on.
She and her family weren’t from New York, which would take the party in a different direction. Had Hyacinth grown up here, the party probably would have been themed something like Existential Crisis of the Ongoing Ennui of Euphoria .
Claudia introduced a couple of the more senior event planners and two of the event designers. They began to share some of their ideas, complete with mood boards and suggestions for how they could potentially decorate the selected venue.
No response from Hyacinth.
The longer this went on, the more aggravated Marie became. I understood it—she was about to spend a lot of money to make sure her daughter had an unforgettable party, and Hyacinth didn’t seem like she cared at all.
Several people on the team exchanged looks, as we were all aware that nothing seemed to be getting through to her.
Kat could do this. She could speak out.
So could I.
I stood up and realized that I didn’t know the protocol for pitching. I’d been in these meetings before, and the planners and designers seemed to instinctively know who should go next and what they should say. If I asked for my turn to pitch, it might make me look like I didn’t know what I was doing. Several people looked surprised, but Claudia just beamed.
I couldn’t do a Wonder Woman spin here, so I settled on doing a quick mental one before starting to talk.
“I’m Everly Aprile. I’m ...” My voice trailed off. I couldn’t say I was an administrative assistant. I would undermine myself before I’d even begun.
An awkward silence filled the room, and I heard a person off to my right whisper, “I hope someone knows the Heimlich, because she’s about to choke.”
No, I wasn’t. I did another mental Wonder Woman spin before I launched into the beginning of my pitch.
“There are a lot of directions we could go in. Modern or vintage, sophisticated or more playful.” My voice wasn’t shaking, which was good. I had been hoping that Hyacinth might respond to one of the things I’d listed so that I’d have an idea of what direction to go, but again, she didn’t look up.
I glanced down at my dress and thought of Hyacinth’s Instagram account, which I had pored over. I’d noticed in some of her older posts that she liked fairy tales, and had reposted images with dreamy, gauzy backgrounds featuring glass slippers or castles in them. Nothing recent, but it was worth a shot.
“What about a fairy-tale party?”
Hyacinth winced. “I’m not turning six years old. Besides, Cinderella has been so done to death.”
I wished I’d thought to prepare visuals. “You’re right. We don’t need another interpretation of an old fairy tale, and this definitely would not be a party for little girls. What about a modern love story, full of gorgeous castles, formal ball gowns, and handsome princes? Based on a country known for its beautiful landscapes and snowy mountains, with a distinct and vibrant culture that would be unlike anything else you’ve ever seen. Monterra has so many unbelievably romantic and true stories of royalty finding their soulmates. Your party will be fit for an American princess.”
I knew hardly anything about Monterran culture, but I would figure it out later. Especially since I could see that it was working. Hyacinth had finally torn her gaze away from her phone.
She studied me for a few moments and then said, “Whatever. Let’s do that.”
My mouth dropped open. I knew we were competing with some other big firms who had much more experience with these sorts of events, and I’d thought we’d have to wait to find out whether or not they’d chosen us.
Not to mention that I knew there were other senior staff members who were waiting for their turns to present. Now they wouldn’t need to.
I couldn’t believe it had worked.
“Excellent!” Claudia said, standing. “We will get those contracts drawn up tonight, and Everly will be in touch.”
Marie’s expression had completely changed, and she looked both relieved and delighted. Hyacinth’s attention was back on her phone, but she managed to follow behind her mother as they went back out to the lobby.
I stood in place, my heart hammering. I’d done it. This felt unreal.
“Well done,” Claudia said, as she came over to shake my hand. “You just landed your first big account. You’ll be handling the entire party from beginning to end. Are you ready for that?”
I glanced behind her, thinking I’d see Adrian. I wondered what he thought about all of this.
But he had already left the room.
I ignored the twinge of disappointment and smiled at Claudia. “I am ready.”
“This is going to be a huge responsibility, and a lot is riding on this. I will need you to check in with me every couple of days and update me as to how things are going.”
That was entirely fair. “I will.”
“Good. There should definitely be a promotion at the end of what is sure to be your very successful event,” she said. “Keep me in the loop.”
Yeah, no pressure or anything.
I couldn’t believe she was putting so much faith in me.
Sinking into my chair, I thought about my immediate future. Now I had to do all of Adrian’s work and plan this elaborate birthday party?
I was never going to sleep again.
I hoped we didn’t have any honey at home.
Adrian came back into the conference room, and my stomach fluttered in response. Had he returned to congratulate me? He was beaming, and I took that as a very good sign.
But he didn’t have any words of praise for me. “Everly, I need you to call some jewelry stores for me. I’ve decided that I’m going to propose to Colette, and you have to find the perfect ring. We’re leaving tonight so that I can meet her family in Paris. I need you to buy tickets for us—I’m planning on being there for two weeks. You can arrange to have the ring sent over to me later. I’ll be sure to text you the address. Let Claudia know, will you?”
He was getting engaged?