2. Ivy
2
IVY
I t wasn't abnormal to dine with a client and discuss event plans. What was out of the ordinary was how Mr. Carver hosted this meal in his own dining room with his own staff catering to my every whim.
We had ham and potato soup with freshly made bread and butter, and the wine the maid brought out probably cost more than my entire wardrobe. After living in a hotel for the past two months in search of an affordable apartment here in Lover's Bay, the meal and the company were both a very nice change of pace. But we hadn't even said one thing about the vow renewal I was paid to plan for Mr. Carver and his wife, and my bowl and my glass were empty.
I didn't want to be rude. He took a lot of time asking me questions about my experience and what sort of weddings I'd planned. When he got to the part about my business partner, I cringed, but I was honest. Mike was a total jerk and I wanted nothing to do with him. In fact, I was taking my clients and leaving and the partnership was dissolving too. It didn't bode well for me as far as picking up new clients went since Mike did most of the marketing, but Mr. Carver's party was supposed to help jumpstart my new startup.
"Well, that's a huge undertaking," he said, and he folded his hands under his chin and looked very thoughtful as he rested his elbows on the table on either side of his empty bowl.
"Yeah," I said, sighing. I wasn't going to confess how down I'd been about things or my fears about starting over. But I did have my worries. I was a wedding planner. Normal, everyday people didn't hire wedding planners because weddings were very expensive. Which meant I’d have to cater to the wealthy elite, and they weren't so easy to hook.
"I take it you've had a falling out?" Mr. Carver's slight prying was a little uncomfortable, and I didn't want him to get the idea that just because I was leaving the firm, I didn't know what I was doing. I was the backbone of the entire thing. If anything, Mike was going to lose customers and would have to hire someone new to replace me. I was the one with talent.
"Well, unfortunately, yes." My admission was quiet but honest. When Mr. Carver said something about changing the plan, I had a mini panic attack inside. I had already spent the past two months planning everything down to the most meticulous details. I was ready to go over things and get a team together to finish things up within his budget. I didn’t have time to make changes to an event plan still months out. I had to secure more clients between now and then to fill my time and put money in my bank account. I needed an apartment.
"I see… Sounds like we're both in similar straits…" The storm that was in his expression when I first arrived returned. My gut told me that severe-looking woman who was walking out when I was walking in was the reason for it, though I wasn't sure why.
"Similar straits?" I repeated and offered a confused expression. Other than the fact that Mr. Carver wanted to keep his vow renewal a surprise for now, I knew nothing about him. He was rich—some tech mogul or something—and he lived in a massive home that had three living rooms, two dining rooms, and from what I'd read on the internet, something like eight or ten bedrooms. And he had no children.
With money like that, he could afford the Jean George for catering—if he lived that close. I was too modest in my first budget estimate and I should've asked for more. But growing up in a middle-class family in the Midwest, I actually learned to be ultra frugal and I made the inexpensive look lavish.
"I'm just going to be honest with you, Ms. Hart. My wife and I are separating. My hopes to spend the next few months with her rekindling our flame didn’t pan out. I had every intention of asking her to renew our vows on Christmas Day and go ahead in February as planned, and well…" He pursed his lips and looked away with just his eyes, and I began to realize what had happened.
That woman storming out must've been Mrs. Carver leaving. I wondered about the suitcases and the glare she shot me. That was so heartbreaking for him, and I wanted to give him a big hug to comfort him. But he was just a client—albeit a very good-looking and ruggedly handsome client.
"I'm so sorry to hear that." Now I understood the reason he wanted to change the event, and I knew why. He was going to ask me to do something entirely different or he was going to cancel, and then what would I do? And after I'd spent some of his money already on a hotel room for the past two months.
"I'm leveling with you because I think you can help me." Mr. Carver sat back in his seat and folded his hands over his lap. I didn't know how a wedding planner could help him with his relationship problems, but I was willing to listen to him. If that was her just leaving, he probably had some things he wanted to get off his chest.
"How do you feel I can best help you?" I sat back too, preparing myself for whatever he might say. I'd had clients ask me to be a mediator between them and their partners before, and while I wasn't a psychologist, I was always willing to help with healthy communication—something Mike and I failed at.
He breathed in deeply and then sighed before he continued. "I'm not surprised that Barbra left. The marriage has been in shambles for the past year or better. She blames me. I accept my part in it, but honestly, we were going nowhere fast. My last-ditch attempt was a hail Mary and it failed. I can't even say I blame her for being unhappy, but she did some unacceptable things. That said, I have no time to wallow in pity. I've done enough grieving over this relationship in the past nine months to last me a lifetime.
"My holiday schedule, however, won't be put on hold. I host dinners and events throughout all of November and December, and I am nothing if not impotent when it comes to party planning. I wonder, Ms. Hart, have you ever done any party planning that wasn't specifically centered around weddings?" Mr. Carver's eyebrows went up as he examined me, and I swallowed hard and licked my lips.
I wasn't necessarily a party planner, per se, but it wasn't that much more difficult than wedding planning. I had a system for weddings, vendors, caterers, heaps of resources all around nuptials. But I did plan rehearsal dinners, bridal showers, and bachelor/bachelorette parties for my clients too. Those were all parties—not quite holiday get-togethers, but mostly the same idea.
"Well, sir, you may be in luck. The situation I'm in is quite difficult too." I looked down and pressed my lips into a line before I looked back up at him. He was being honest with me, and I felt like I owed it to him to be honest with him. He needed someone, and I was the someone he chose.
"As I told you earlier, my former partner and I are dissolving the partnership. I get to retain the clients I have on my list, while he keeps his. I am in a sort of rebranding mode for myself and my ideas for what I'll be doing with my knowledge and expertise." I heard my voice crack since I basically wasn’t an expert at anything but weddings. "And you might just be able to help me a little too. What do you have in mind?"
Mr. Carver smiled and leaned forward. As he outlined all the things I'd have to do—Thanksgiving dinners for personal and private parties, holiday galas, Christmas events, gift coordination for corporate shareholders and employees—I started to feel overwhelmed. It was a lot for any one person to do, and I wasn’t sure if I was up to the task until he said, "Barbra used to do it all, but she's gone now."
My sympathy rankled any chance I had of bowing out of such an enormous undertaking, and I smiled softly. "Don't worry, Mr. Carver, you're in good hands. I'll be able to handle all of this for you. I'll just need a dedicated workspace, a budget to hire a team to work with, and access to funds to make it happen. I can draw up a budget for each event, starting with those nearest in time, and have it to you in a few days. Then we can go from there…"
He smiled for the first time, and though I knew it was because I'd just saved him from a headache this winter, part of me felt like it was just for me.
"Thank you, Ms. Hart."
"Call me Ivy. We'll be getting to know each other pretty well over the next few months." I wished I had just one more glass of wine to take the nerves off as he stood and asked me to follow him. He led me through the maze of rooms toward a wing of his house that was dark and cold and opened a series of doors—a bedroom, then what appeared to be an office, a bathroom, and a walk-in closet that was larger than my hotel room. Then he turned to me with confidence.
"You'll have all of this space and more if you need it. And you can feel free to stay here as much or as little as you'd like to ensure you can do the job well. That's all I want—excellence in everything. I'll get you a company credit card, and whatever budget you set, I'll sign off on it immediately. You have no idea how thankful I am for you."
My head spun and I felt a little lightheaded. He was approving my budget before I even gave an estimate. And the idea of staying here instead of paying that huge nightly amount for the hotel wasn't half bad, either. I'd have way more space and privacy. It seemed Mr. Carver was a godsend to me as much as I was one to him.
I stretched out my hand and shook his. "I can't wait to get started." As nervous as I was, I knew this was going to put me back on the map, and maybe I could entirely rebrand as a party planner and strengthen my chances of being successful.
Not bad at all.