Chapter 8
PIPER
"As you can see from the projections, we're expecting at least a twenty percent increase in attendance this year.
" Piper clicked to the next slide, suppressing a yawn that threatened to escape thanks to the late night before.
"Your annual symposium has grown steadily each year and, with the addition of the new eco-burial panel, we expect even stronger numbers. "
The conference room hummed with quiet approval from the twelve funeral directors seated around the polished mahogany table.
Piper had arranged them strategically to keep the more traditional directors separated from the more contemporary "green burial" advocates.
She hadn't been entirely certain what to do with Mr. Thornhill—Mortimer.
On the fly, she put him with the green burial group hoping to minimize pre-conference friction until they'd established more camaraderie.
Her head throbbed dully, a souvenir from Babushka's homemade vodka that had materialized from her purse after dessert last night.
What had started as a simple toast had evolved into a three-hour Russian cultural immersion, complete with toasts to Piper's 'strong legs.'
Piper refilled her water glass, willing it to be coffee instead.
"Moving on to accommodations," Piper continued, surreptitiously massaging her temple when she turned to point at the screen. "This hotel should be able to reserve our full block of rooms, including the premium corner suites for board members."
The Falcon was the perfect venue for both the D.I.C.K. symposium and potentially Anna's wedding. It was upscale but not ostentatious, centrally located, easy to work with, and featured that coveted rooftop terrace with the panoramic mountain views.
"Will we have exclusive access to the rooftop for our welcome reception?" Ms. Wilder, the association's treasurer, asked.
"Absolutely," Piper confirmed. "From seven to ten on the first night. The space will be transformed with green uplighting to match your new branding, and I've been thinking we could set up telescopes for stargazing. I like to think it'll be a subtle nod to your industry's connection to the eternal.
Eek. That earned appreciative murmurs around the table.
The little dopamine hit and internal squee Piper experienced was like a nice internal pat on the back.
This was why Piper excelled at corporate events. She understood the delicate balance between acknowledging the funeral industry's somber purpose while creating experiences that didn't feel morbid.
They broke for a quick recess. She stayed in the room while the others all stretched their legs and chatted.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket.
She discreetly checked it under the table.
Zach: Headed your way soon
Piper: Yup! See u @ 3
Zach: I'll bring you a coffee. That vodka is no joke
Despite her headache, Piper felt her lips twitch. She liked him. Really liked him.
Piper: Unprofessional to mention my hangover
Zach: Practical to treat it
Piper: Skinny vanilla latte as big as they can make it
Zach: See you at 3, Cinderella.
That nickname again. Piper felt a little flutter of... something she wasn't going to analyze during a professional meeting.
"Ms. Daws?" Mr. Martin called to her. "What are your personal thoughts on the memorial technology showcase?"
Piper smoothly pocketed her phone. "I believe it's essential. The digital afterlife management platforms are revolutionizing your industry. I think you should consider allocating the entire west wing of the exhibition hall for interactive demonstrations."
Piper circled the table, distributing folders containing the information they needed to review for the next part of their session together.
The familiar rhythm of a well-organized corporate event settled her.
This was where she belonged—managing conferences with clear objectives and predictable outcomes. Here in this space, there were zero chaotic wedding spectacles or emotions running high with family members showing up at all hours with purse vodka.
"Once we're all settled again let's discuss options for the keynote speakers," Piper continued, advancing to the next slide for when they regrouped.
"I thought we would invite Dr. Montgomery from the university's Thanatology Department, and Jake Winters, founder of Forever Digital Footprint?
If they're available, they would be phenomenal. "
"I'm so glad we made the right choice in hiring you." Mortimer flashed a huge toothy grin that sort of made her squirm uncomfortably.
While the directors all poured water and ate their snacks, she finished up her room reset. She refused to let her mind wander to the upcoming wedding venue assessment with Zach and his gallon of coffee.
She didn't think about how she needed to be thorough—checking sunset angles, acoustics, capacity, and power outlet access.
No, she didn't think about that because after Babushka left last night, she'd created a comprehensive checklist that accounted for all Tess's requirements while still prioritizing Anna and Drake's preferences so she wouldn't have to think about it.
The rest of the D.I.C.K. planning session went smoothly, and it was nearly two when Piper moved on to finalizing the budget options.
"Now, if you'll direct your attention to page seven of your packets, you'll find the budget breakdown from last year's—" Piper's sentence died as movement at the conference room's glass door caught her eye.
Through the frosted logo of The Falcon, she made out a familiar silhouette in the lobby.
Tall. Athletic build. Casual stance that somehow managed to look both relaxed and purposeful.
Zach.
Way too early.
Her headache intensified as she watched him charm the receptionist at the front desk, who was now pointing in the direction of her meeting room.
"Ms. Daws?" Mr. Martin prompted. "The budget?"
"Yes," Piper nodded, dragging her attention back to the meeting.
No. Absolutely not. This is NOT happening right now.
"I think we can negotiate a five percent reduction in the audio-visual package while actually upgrading the equipment." She continued the discussion on autopilot while keeping her eye on Zach through the glass.
The D.I.C.K. board members nodded approvingly at her budgetary thoughts when Zach finally turned toward the conference room.
His eyes met hers through the glass, and his face broke into that infuriatingly fascinating smile that had been forefront in her mind since their first sidewalk encounter.
He held up what was clearly a coffee carrier in one hand and mimicked knocking with the other. Then he winked at her, and Piper's stomach did a completely unprofessional flip.
"Is everything alright, Ms. Daws?" Mr. Martin asked, following Piper's distracted gaze.
Piper fixed her professional smile. "Absolutely. I just… I know we're nearly done here today, but there's someone I need to… there's just a little…" She swallowed past the sudden nervous lump in her throat. "I need a five-minute recess."
Thankfully, they all agreed, and Piper adjusted the blazer on her sea-foam-green pantsuit, mentally checking off the final items on their meeting agenda as she marched toward Zach.
"You're early," she said when she reached him, trying to keep her voice low.
Zach held up the coffee like a peace offering. Or a bribe. Honestly, with this headache, Piper was tempted to accept either.
"Early bird gets the rooftop," he said, holding out a coffee for her. He flashed a grin like they were sharing a private joke and not standing ten feet from a room full of death-care professionals.
She reached for the cup. "You're not funny."
"I am a little funny."
Piper scanned the lobby behind him for any sign of an early Tess. Or worse—Babushka.
Zach leaned in slightly, dropping his voice.
"Relax. Tess and Babushka aren't here yet.
I wanted to get here and watch the door in case they come early.
Your other meeting with the dead people club seemed really important and I'm pretty sure I can accidentally delay Babushka if I tell her I have a girlfriend. "
"You have a girlfriend?" Piper asked, her heart not liking that thought one bit.
"No, but Babushka doesn't know that."
"You think that'll stall her?"
He gave her a look. "You've met Babushka."
Piper took a long, blessed sip of her latte and closed her eyes for half a second. Heaven. Liquid life support.
"Okay," she muttered, voice tight. "I have approximately three minutes before I need to herd my D.I.C.K.s back to their seats, so if you're going to be helpful, be helpful and go watch the door."
"I'm going to go do that. I'm going to be extremely helpful," Zach said the words like a caress.
That gave her pause as her tummy fluttered at all the helpful things this man could probably do for her.
Mortimer strolled by, flanked by two other D.I.C.K. members. All three of them obviously eavesdropping.
Zach straightened instinctively, and as soon as Mortimer saw him, the guy frowned and scurried back to the conference room.
What on earth was that all about?
"Ah, Ms. Daws," Mr. Martin said, eyeing Zach with the wary politeness reserved for unexpected guests and shopping mall Santas. "Is this a…colleague of yours?"
Piper swallowed her concern about Mortimer. "Yes. Sort of. This is—" She turned to Zach with a desperate look. "This is Zach. He's, um… a vendor?"
That should not have sounded like a question.
"Oh? What sort of vendor?" Ms. Wilder asked, peering at Zach like she was already suspicious of his lack of a tie.
Piper opened her mouth to invent a sort-of-truth. Something safe. Something bland.
Zach beat her to it.
"I specialize in bespoke men's undergarments," he said cheerfully. "Luxury-level support for your most personal needs."
Piper coughed. Hard. "He's kidding. He runs a, uh, IT consulting firm. Very discreet. Helps events run smoothly behind the scenes."
Mr. Martin chuckled. "Always good to see our event coordinator so… resourceful. We'll head back in."
As the board members returned to the conference room, Piper let her forehead drop to the lid of her coffee cup.
Zach leaned in beside her. "Too much?"
"Too much," she muttered. "Definitely too much."
"Good news is, they'll never forget me."
Piper didn't respond. She simply took another sip of her coffee and sighed.
He was right. They wouldn't forget him. And, heaven help her, neither would she.