Orlando
Ihave never dated people I work with, so this left me in a conundrum. I really liked Amaya. And while we didn’t work together, we did work together. She wasn’t my employee. We didn’t stare at each other all day from across the office – I’ve been there and it was incredibly smothering. But I would certainly see her often enough.
Plus, my mother wanted me to offer her a job as an in-house event coordinator. She could still be a professional bridesmaid for those who want it, or just a regular coordinator. Now that we were doing more and more private events, Mom thought it required us to have our own person on staff.
What my mother didn’t know was that I’m not completely sure I want to keep The Promenade. Sure, it’s a lucrative business, but it’s not the business I know. I know corporate mergers and takeovers, not formal gatherings for weddings and parties. I was so out of my element. And I would hate to hire Amaya just to sell the place and her end up out of a job.
And I didn’t date people I worked with.
My brain told me that, but when I saw her coming down the hall with a couple hot on her heels, my breath hitched. She wore a black knee-length pencil skirt and an emerald green silk blouse. She looked professional and sophisticated and I desperately wanted her to turn around so I can see her walk away in that skirt.
She spoke openly with the woman beside her, the man clearly tagging along. They must be a couple she’s working with. I had no reason to go down the hall, but I found myself looking straight ahead as I barreled toward them.
“Oh, Mr. Daniels. May I introduce Misty Allen and her fiancé Connor Harwood? They’re considering The Promenade for their wedding next year.” Amaya’s mouth turned up into an easy smile and her eyes sparkled in the low lights.
The urge to cup her face in my hands was overwhelming, so I stuffed my hands in my pockets. Then realized I would need to shake hands, so I pulled them back out again. “A pleasure. I do hope you like the look of things.”
The groom shook my hand and looked desperate for a guy to commiserate with. The bride offered me a limp hand and barely looked my way. Instead, she marveled at a piece of art on the wall. “Oh, this is gorgeous.”
It was one of my favorite pieces in the place. “My mother commissioned that from Geoffrey Bucklier. Have you heard of him?”
The woman’s mouth dropped open. “Heard of him? He’s my favorite artist, I would kill for one of his paintings.”
Amaya crinkled her nose. It was adorable, not that I noticed. “Misty, did I tell you that Geoffrey’s daughter Ingrid was married here seven years ago? Sadly, I was not in attendance, but that should attest to the beauty and prominence of this venue.”
It was a fact I didn’t even know. I only remembered my mother telling me she had commissioned the piece. The bride squealed in delight.
“Why don’t you all go into the ballroom right here? I will be right behind you,” Amaya offered. The bride scurried in, the groom bored behind her. When they were out of sight, Amaya turned to me. “Thank you. That is a great selling point. She’s a socialite if you couldn’t tell.”
“High profile client, then?”
She nodded. “I get them on occasion. And sometimes they don’t want it to look like they had to hire a coordinator. And the guy’s only request was that his brothers be groomsmen and he has four brothers. She has a sister and two best friends, so she needed a fourth. It will be a huge wedding.”
Unsure what to say, I nodded and made my excuses to let her get back to her clients. She briefly touched my hand as she said goodbye and I could feel a spark come from her. Was it an electric shock? No, these floors weren’t carpeted, there was nothing to cause it. Maybe it was just from her own electric charm.
Back in my office, I made a few phone calls and looked over the schedule for the next several months. Every weekend was booked with weddings, anniversary parties, corporate events, and more. The business was making money but largely sat unused during the week. There had to be something more that the space could be used for. Maybe we could rent it out to small businesses. I understood practicality, not all this whimsy.
Which is why I was considering selling the entire place once my mother retired properly. I was a corporate man, not a party planner. I knew nothing about running an event location except how to pay for the catering. I had spoken to three interested parties already and planned to show them The Promenade in the coming weeks to gauge their interest.
My mother flitted into my office. “Orlando, darling, did you see that Amaya Journet is here?” She perched on the arm of a chair opposite me.
“I did indeed. I told the bride with her that we had a Bucklier. She was duly impressed.” I lifted my coffee cup for a drink of the lukewarm liquid.
“Such a sweet girl, that Amaya. You could speak with her today about working here. I would love to have her join the family.”
Coffee sputtered from my mouth as I choked. Join the family? Thankfully most of the coffee was swallowed and a little ended up leaving droplets all over my desk. I was glad there were no contracts laying on top.
“Orlando! What on earth?”
I wiped my mouth with a tissue and took a deep breath. “Sorry, Mom. Join the family? What do you mean?”
Her eyes grew large. “Join us here working at The Promenade. What did you think I meant?”
Tears formed in my eyes from the coughing. “I don’t…” cough, cough, “I just…” cough, cough, “Nevermind.”
Slight wrinkles worked their way around my mother’s eyes. “You like her, Orlando. I thought you might get on with her. She’s sweet young lady.”
“I’m here to assess the business, Mom, not swoon over gorgeous bridesmaids.” I cleared my throat again, finally feeling somewhat normal.
“I never said she was gorgeous. That was you.” She stood and looked out my office door, her face lighting up even more. “And there she is now with a vision of a bride. How did you like The Promenade?” Mom shook hands with the couple and then with Amaya.
“It was perfection. The crystal chandelier!” The bride made a chef’s kiss gesture and gushed some more.
“Right in here and my son can talk with you. I have an appointment of my own to rush off to,” Mom said, ushering the three visitors into my office.
I only had two chairs and Amaya immediately offered them to the couple. The woman – Missy? – took one and the guy hesitated before Amaya jumped back out and grabbed a chair from elsewhere. He finally sat.
We hashed out details for their nuptials. Everything was still done in an old black binder with dates that stretched out two years. We’ll need to update this if I keep everything going. We need a site-wide network that allowed everyone to interact and see what was happening when, from caterers to waitstaff to the cleaning crew.
After booking their wedding and paying a hefty deposit, the couple excused themselves and left. Amaya stayed behind just outside my office door. Once they were out of earshot, she turned and looked at me expectantly.
“Did you need something else?” I again picked up my coffee mug, only to remember it was completely cold now.
She plopped herself down on one of the chairs that belonged in my office. “Cordelia said you wanted to speak with me,” she said as she rotated her foot in the air, wincing as she did so.
“Is your ankle okay?”
She chuckled. “Don’t laugh at me, but I can feel rain coming in my ankle. Old dancing injury that flares up in bad weather. It’ll be okay.” She put her foot back down, her calf muscles flexing in the three-inch heels she wore. “What did you need to talk about?”
I sat back and closed my eyes. “I need to talk about my mother’s meddling, apparently.” I opened my eyes to find them drawn immediately to the outline of her thigh. I shifted my gaze to her face. “She wants you to come work for us.”
“Work for you? How so?”
Do not stare at her full lips, Daniels.“She would like an in-house event coordinator and she has you in mind for the job. She really likes you.” Naturally, I would not mention my growing attraction for her.
Her mouth twisted up for a few seconds as she thought. “I like your mother as well, and I love doing weddings here. I don’t know if I want to leave my business though.”
“The idea is that you could still be a bridesmaid for hire for weddings, and help coordinate the other events that occur here.” I sighed and sat forward. What would she say if I told her I planned on selling?
Amaya crinkled her nose and began to chew on her lip. My eyes were drawn to her mouth and I really wanted to taste it. A small noise peeped from her before she finally said she wasn’t sure.
Seriously, she was the most gorgeous woman I had ever seen. “You can still play dress up.” I smirked at my little joke.
Except she didn’t see it as a joke. Dark eyes narrowed and color rose in her cheeks. “Is that all you think I do, Mr. Daniels? Play dress up? I have negotiated with the toughest caterers in the business, I have held a bride’s hair as she puked both from drinking too much and from being pregnant. I have warmed cold feet and I have even stopped a wedding when I realized the bride was being abused. I do a lot more than just dress up.” She stood, her face red and her chest heaving. “Good day, Mr. Daniels.”
She turned on her spiked heels and strode from the room.
Well, I officially mucked that up. It’s a good thing I don’t date people I work with.