Chapter 23
chapter twenty-three
Charlotte
I can’t believe I got to meet Joan Sanders!
She’s a famous Houston journalist and I’ve seen her on TV for years.
Not only did I get to meet her—I talked with her.
On camera. Some of it might even make it onto the news, or their news website which is just as good in my opinion.
I never watch live news but I do catch recaps online.
I can’t wait to tell my mom that I might be on TV.
I wasn’t even nervous, probably because Rex was there and he kept begging for pets and attention.
This is the most I’ve pet a dog in my entire life.
Any time I scratched his head or neck, he’d nuzzle into me wanting more.
It’s hard to believe that this is the dog who gets aggressive with everyone who tries to adopt him.
Around me, he’s a cuddle bug. Hopefully he finds someone to adopt him that he likes just as much.
Everything should feel like it’s back to normal now, with the rain gone and Rex back where he belongs, but it doesn’t.
It’s been a couple of days and the sun is shining, all the broken tree debris has been cleaned up, and the gala is only a few days away.
All the excitement and enthusiasm I had for the gala is still there but it’s being overshadowed with a deep, uncomfortable dread.
It’s like I’m lost. Jenny has two new events lined up for me after this one—a retirement party and a couple’s fifty year wedding anniversary.
I’ve started a few small tasks for the retirement party, and read over the other event’s data sheet but I’m not excited about either one.
They’re boring. Bland events, for boring people.
As an event planner, not every event will sing to me the way the K9 gala has.
Some are just boring events, and that’s fine because boring equals less stress and less stress is great for a long-lasting career.
Usually I love boring events. I long for boring events.
But lately I’m feeling bitter and annoyed, like the high I get from planning the K9 gala will never be matched again.
And no, it’s not just because the founder of said K9 gala is super hot.
Seriously, why is he wearing tight-fitting tactical type pants that hug his muscular thighs so tightly?
And don’t even get me started on that cute little, crisp shirt.
Usually, he’s dressed in ratty old t-shirts covered in dog hair.
It looks like he has a fresh haircut that’s been messed up in the perfect way and his scruffy beard is trimmed and tidy.
Hands down, Caleb Alden is the hottest Alden brother.
I would happily plan a million boring events if all the clients were this good looking.
I’m working from the Alden farm today because we’re getting several shipments of decorations for the gala and I need to be here to make sure they’re all correct.
When the local news van showed up, I watched Caleb from afar, trying not to let my imagination go too far with made up little daydreams about that cute smile of his and the way his forearms glisten in the sun every time he gives himself a nervous hair tussle.
Joan stays a while after the camera turns off.
We chat about the facility and the nonprofit foundation Caleb’s working on.
Max brings K9 Rain out for a walk and she talks to him, too.
While Max shares about Rain, I step out of the way and see Caleb standing to the side, alone.
He watches his little brother with a serious, almost nervous expression.
“Hey,” I say quietly, giving him a little wave. “This is so cool.”
“Do you think it’s going well?” he asks, shifting on his feet. He rubs his eye.
“Very well,” I say, watching him watch his brother. The slight crease in his forehead deepens. “You’re going to get so much good press from this. A ton of people will learn about the foundation when this airs.”
“I didn’t sound…incompetent or anything?”
“Caleb!” I playfully slap his arm. “Of course not!”
He shrugs, shaking his head slightly. I want to take his hand, or give him a hug, but none of that seems like the right move to make so publicly.
“You okay?” I ask softly. We should be far enough away from Manny’s camera to talk, but I’d rather not risk having a private conversation picked up on film.
“Yeah,” he says.
I put a hand on my hip and stare at him. His eyes shift to me and a small grin tugs at his lips. “What?” he says.
“Are you really okay?” I ask. “You seem too stressed. This is a good day, the gala is all ready to go, and the interview went well.”
“Your interview went well. You looked like a total pro on camera.”
A nervous flutter flits in my stomach. “Really?”
He nods, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You were a natural. Your boss is going to love it.”
The smile falls right off my face. I forgot about Jenny. Not sure how I forgot about her—she’s been a constant thorn in my side ever since she chose to utilize this event as her ploy to make the company more popular.
“I don’t want to tell her about this.”
“Why not? You might get a raise or something.”
I shake my head. “She’ll use it to get herself a raise. What are the odds that I can not tell her and she’ll never find out?”
Caleb’s indecisive thinking face makes him even hotter. “Not very good,” he says after a moment. “If she finds out from someone other than you, will she be mad?”
I heave a sigh. “Probably.”
Joan walks up to us with a big smile on her perfectly polished lips. “That’s a wrap on our Alden K9 story,” she says. “Thank you so much for having us out.”
“Thank you for covering this,” Caleb says, shaking her hand.
“Charlotte, walk with me,” Joan says.
My eyes widen and I glance at Caleb who’s giving me an equally wide-eyed stare. With a little shrug, I walk with her back to the van where Manny is loading up his equipment.
“You ever thought of a job in television?”
I bark out a single laugh. “No… no way. That’s not me.”
“Really? Because you were stunning today. You spoke so eloquently to the camera, all perfect takes the first try. You’re young and pretty. You would be a producer’s dream.”
“I appreciate that, but I don’t want to work in television. I’m a party planner, and I love my job.”
Joan’s brow lifts. “I know burnout when I see it.”
My shoulders fall. “Am I that easy to read?”
Her smile softens. “I’ve been doing this a long time, and I’ve interviewed a lot of important people.” She shrugs her shoulders. “And some people who weren’t so important. I know people. You’re a woman on the brink of a crash out, I suspect. Sorry to be so blunt.”
“It’s okay… you’re probably right. I love what I do, but I’ve been a little sick of my boss lately.”
“So get a new boss,” she says as she climbs into the passenger seat. “Or become your own boss. And if you ever want an interview with Houston News, give me a call.”
Caleb watches me walk back, his gaze so intense it makes my whole body warm. “What was that about?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I say, walking into the barn and opening my laptop.
“Was it about me?”
“Just because two women were talking doesn’t mean they were talking about you,” I tease.
“I’m just concerned that maybe she hated me and hated the foundation and doesn’t want to air the story.”
I sit at table seventeen, the one near the stage, and peer up at him. “What happened to that confident, overly cocky man I met two and a half weeks ago?”
He pulls out the chair next to me, bringing the scent of cologne with him as he sits down. This might be the cleanest, best smelling he’s ever been around me.
“I just care about the foundation. I want it to be successful.”
“Joan loved you, and she loves the foundation.”
He nods once. The flirty, annoyingly playful man I’ve grown used to is calm and contemplative right now. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”
“Yes, you could have. Felony Melanie would have loved being on TV too,” I say, trying to lighten the mood.
He grins. “Are you going to tell me what Joan told you? I’m so curious it hurts.”
“It hurts, huh?” I say, poking his chest. I don’t expect it to be as firm as it is. This man is so busy all the time, I don’t know when he finds the time to work out. I lean back in my chair and heave a sigh.
“Can I ask you something?”
“You can ask me anything.”
My breath catches. “What made you willing to risk everything to start this business?”
“Passion,” he says without a moment of hesitation.
“I didn’t love being a cop. I liked the training and teamwork, but being around criminals and writing stupid traffic tickets all day wasn’t fun.
I love dogs, and I have a special love of working dogs.
They give us everything and ask for nothing in return. So, I just did it one day.”
“You quit your job and started a business,” I say, not as a question but just a statement of fact.
“Yes, ma’am. The dogs deserve it.”
“You don’t have to call me ma’am,” I say, still pondering on what my passion is. What I could be or do if I had the guts to go be or do something for myself.
Caleb leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. He’s so close I can smell the woodsy sharpness of his cologne. “I know I don’t have to.” His eyes peer into mine, dipping down to my lips and back up again. “I want to.”