Chapter 15 Party Planning and Impossible Deadlines #2
That’s when Alyssa found it: a converted warehouse space in Shoreditch. The listing had only gone up that morning—a last-minute cancellation. All exposed brick, fairy lights, and industrial charm. It was completely impractical, slightly over budget, and absolutely perfect.
“This is ridiculous,” Evelyn said when they arrived an hour later, but she was smiling as she said it. “We’re cutting this incredibly close.”
“This is brilliant,” Alyssa corrected. “Look at the natural light. The open floor plan. The potential for creative seating arrangements. And we can have it.”
Bug trotted around the space, tail wagging, giving his seal of approval to various corners.
“He’s doing a security sweep,” Alyssa explained. “Very thorough.”
The warehouse manager, a woman named Sienna with impressive sleeve tattoos and a nose ring, looked between them with barely concealed amusement. “So you want to book this for a corporate Christmas party? In six days?”
“Yes,” Alyssa said firmly.
“Maybe,” Evelyn said simultaneously, then sighed. “Yes. Definitely yes.”
Sienna laughed. “You two are adorable. Lucky for you, the cancellation just came through this morning. The space is yours. I’ll even throw in some extra fairy lights—and I’ll waive the rush fee because I like your dog.”
With the venue secured, the real work began—and the clock was ticking. Five days. They had five days to pull off what normally took months.
Back at Crawford’s, Maggie had somehow gotten involved, bringing her own brand of organisational energy to the proceedings.
“I’ve created a system for tracking all the moving pieces,” Maggie announced, dropping a comprehensive binder on Evelyn’s desk. “Everything cross-referenced and colour coded. With timelines.”
“That’s…thorough,” Evelyn said.
“That’s genius,” Alyssa corrected, immediately diving into the binder. “And we’re going to need every minute accounted for.”
Now that they had a venue, Alyssa could finalise the theme. She laid out colour swatches across Evelyn’s desk, her vision finally coming together despite the compressed timeline.
“We settled on ‘Crawford’s Celebration of Connection,’” Alyssa said, “but now we need to make sure everything—decorations, invitations, even the playlist—actually reflects that. And we need to do it fast.”
“You’re very particular about cohesion,” Evelyn observed. “Even under pressure.”
“A theme isn’t just words on an invitation,” Alyssa explained. “It’s the feeling people get when they walk in. It’s what makes an event memorable instead of just…mandatory.”
Evelyn nodded slowly. “My mother used to say something similar. That events should tell a story.”
“Exactly,” Alyssa said, feeling warmth spread through her chest at the mention of Roslyn. “This is about bringing people together. Reconnecting them to the company, to each other, to what Crawford’s stands for.”
“Bug would definitely approve of this philosophy,” Evelyn said, glancing at the dog.
“He has excellent taste,” Alyssa replied. “Now, catering.”
The catering became its own saga—made more complicated by the fact that most caterers were already booked.
Alyssa insisted on including options that went beyond the standard corporate fare.
She’d somehow convinced a local chef—a friend of Lil’s—to squeeze them in with only four days’ notice, creating a menu that was part traditional, part adventurous, and entirely delicious.
“You’ve got ‘Festive Fusion Tacos’ on the menu,” Evelyn observed.
“Trust me,” Alyssa said. “They’re going to be the highlight of the night.”
“We’re a pet supplies company, not a food truck festival.”
“Exactly. Which is why this will be memorable.”
The entertainment was another challenge—and another race against time. Evelyn wanted something subdued. Alyssa wanted something that would get people actually enjoying themselves.
“What about a DJ?” Alyssa suggested.
“Too loud,” Evelyn countered.
“A string quartet?”
“Too boring.”
They compromised on a live band that could do both—something with range, energy, and the ability to read a room. Miraculously, they had an opening.
“You’re very good at this,” Evelyn said one evening, watching Alyssa coordinate with the band manager over the phone.
“At what?”
“Making things happen. Bringing people together.”
Alyssa felt heat rise in her cheeks. “It’s just event planning.”
“It’s more than that,” Evelyn said softly. “You’re creating something that everyone wants to get behind. In less than a week.”
The moment hung between them, charged with something neither of them was quite ready to name. Bug, sensing the shift, stood up and positioned himself directly between them, tail wagging slowly.
“Subtle,” Alyssa muttered to the dog.
The final three days became a whirlwind.
As the date drew closer, the energy at Crawford’s shifted.
People were excited. Genuinely excited. Not the forced corporate enthusiasm, but real anticipation—even though most of them had no idea how close they’d come to having the party in a soulless conference room.
“I think we might have actually pulled this off,” Evelyn said one afternoon, looking at the final checklist. “With two days to spare.”
“We?” Alyssa teased. “I seem to remember doing most of the work.”
“You had an assistant,” Evelyn gestured to Bug, who was currently napping on his designated planning chair.
“The best assistant,” Alyssa agreed.
The final planning meeting was held in Evelyn’s office the night before the party, with pizza—their traditional fuel—and a sense of accomplishment that felt hard-won. They’d created something together in record time. Not just a party, but a moment of connection for an entire company.
“Thank you,” Evelyn said, her voice sincere. “I couldn’t have done this without you. Especially not in under two weeks.”
“You could have,” Alyssa replied, “but it wouldn’t have been nearly as fun.”
Bug lifted his head, looked between them, and gave a soft, approving bark.
The party was tomorrow. And somehow, in the midst of all the planning and the pressure and the impossible deadlines, Alyssa had realized something terrifying and wonderful: she was falling for Evelyn Crawford. Hook, line, and sinker.
But that was a problem for another day. Right now, there was a final walkthrough to complete, and a very opinionated dog to consult.