Let Me In Page 2
“Ah, that’s sweet,” I said, completely ignoring the fact the party he wanted would normally take weeks, sometimes months, to plan.
“Yes, sweet, but seriously, this is a big deal. I’ve tacked on a fee for the short notice. This could be a good account. We were the only planners willing to take it on. If we prove we can handle it, we will earn their regular business.”
“Okay, what do you need me to do?” I asked. I loved a challenge.
“I want you to handle it. I have that wedding this weekend. I cannot possibly spare a minute for this. I have Amber and David with me as well. You would be on your own.”
A knot formed in my gut. “Me? Alone?”
“I know you can handle it. They don’t want a lot of flair. You can do it, right?”
It wasn’t like I could say no. “Yes. I will not let you down.”
“Thank you. If you need help, reach out, but this wedding is a big deal. I can’t let down this family.”
I nodded. The wedding was right up there with the likes of Will and Kate and Kim and Kanye. It was big. I had been picking up the slack while Clara focused all her energy on the one wedding. It was great for me, giving me a chance to grow and gain some experience. “I will give it my best.”
She breathed a sigh of relief, her shoulders sagging forward. “Thank you. I knew I could count on you. This wedding will be the death of me.”
“I have seen some of the plans. It is a doozie. They are going to love it.”
“They better. I’ll send you the details in the next ten minutes.”
“I’ll get right on it,” I assured her.
She left my office. I slapped my hands over my face. “Oh shit,” I breathed. “You can do this, Evie. You can do this.”
I quickly cleaned up my desk, putting away the sweet-sixteen folder. I needed organization. I needed everything in its place. I pulled out the yellow pad I insisted on keeping notes on and tore off the top page. It wasn’t written on, but it wasn’t pristine. I liked pristine.
I heard the chime alerting me to a new email. It was from Clara. I took a deep breath and put myself in the right frame of mind to tackle a new project. A big project. I opened it and immediately printed the document. We used a standard form and then the planner would reach out and get more information from the client.
I pulled the forms from the printer, put them in order, tapped them on the desk to get them perfectly even, and put a staple in the corner. Only then did I start to read through the forms. I made little notes on my yellow pad about things I needed to clarify.
With the notes made and an idea already forming in my mind, I packed up my things. I needed to do a little window shopping. I needed fresh air and a change of scenery. It was the way I worked. I needed to get my juices flowing.
I knew just the place—my favorite bar. I wasn’t a heavy drinker and I rarely liked day drinking, but my best friend in the whole world worked at the bar. It was really the only time we got to chat. She worked nights. I worked days and sometimes nights.
Right now, it would be nice and slow in the bar. The few regulars and the guys having really bad days would stick to their corner of the bar and I would hang out at the other side. I said my goodbyes to the small staff that worked in the office and headed out into the beautiful San Diego sun. I slid on my sunglasses and walked to my car. The heels I wore were sensible, which was a necessity considering how much I was on my feet most days.
I made it to the bar, parking in back next to Nelle’s car. I went around the front. The bar was in one of the better neighborhoods of the city, tucked in between several other bars. It was where the college kids came to do their pub crawls. Nelle’s bar was more of a sports bar by day and a millennial hangout by night. It was where the young people with man buns and skinny jeans liked to hang out. A lot of rich kids hung out in the place as well, which was really how Nelle paid the bills.
“Hey.” I greeted her with a small wave as I walked through the doors. The place was plenty bright in the late afternoon hours. At night, the lights were down, and the music was up.
“Uh oh, you got a new job,” she said with a bright smile. She knew me very well.
Her long, shiny, blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail. The woman could have been a model. She was gorgeous. I admired her beauty and the perfect figure she had but it was the beauty on the inside that made her special. She was kind and ferocious enough to run a bar and deal with stupid, sometimes mean, drunks.
“I did,” I said with a grin.
“You are happy, so it must be especially challenging,” she commented. She quickly filled a glass with my usual diet soda and put it down in front of me with a little square napkin underneath.
I took a sip of the soda. “I am. It’s for a big party this weekend.”
Her perfectly sculpted brows, darkened with the skilled hand of a makeup expert, arched up. “This weekend? How big?”
“About two-hundred guests,” I answered. I was excited and couldn’t hide it.
“Wow. That’s not a small gathering.”
“Nope.”
“You will, of course, pull it off,” she said with a bright smile.
“You bet your ass I will. It does mean I’m going to be working around the clock for the next six days.”
I pulled out my yellow pad, ready to jot down ideas as they came to me. I took another drink and looked around the bar. The usual suspects were gathered around their table talking about football. I didn’t even think it was football season, but what did I know? It was the middle of July, hot as hell, and shaping up to be even hotter next week.
“What kind of party?” she asked as she filled a glass with foamy beer before handing it to one of the regulars.
“Shipping.”
“Shipping? Like the post office?”
“No. Cargo ships. I have to do a little homework, but they ship things all around the world on their really big boats.”
She didn’t look very excited. “How boring. What kind of theme?”
“No theme. I’m thinking I’m just going to have some big ropes, anchors, and stuff like that around the room.”
“Where is it being held at?”
“One of the local hotels down at the waterfront. I’ve worked with the rooms so many times before, I already know what I’m going for. It’s going to be tight quarters, but I’ll make it work.”
“Of course, you will.”
I put my pen down and focused on her. “How have you been?”
“Good, busy. You know how the weekends are.”
“I know. You work yourself to the bone. I was going to ask you to go shopping with me yesterday, but I figured you would be sleeping most of the day.”
She laughed. “I was. I got home just after four on Saturday—I guess that would technically be Sunday—and slept until about two. Got up, ate, showered, and went right back to bed. There were back-to-back concerts Friday and Saturday. You know how they flock in here, all hyped up on music and alcohol.”
“Did you have to kick any ass?”
She winked. “Just once. Two young bucks thought they were going to fight in my bar. They now know better.”
“I bet they do,” I said with a giggle. “Being attacked by all one-hundred-twenty pounds of you must have terrified them.”
“I think it might have been Martha that really scared them,” she said with a grin. Martha was her bat. It was her lucky bat. She’d played softball in school and kept it behind the bar. Her Louisville Slugger was not to be messed with.
“Martha is an intimidating gal,” I agreed. “I want a beach day. I’ll be busy this week, but what about next week?”
“I’m off Tuesday,” she answered.
“Then a week from now, we have a date. I have a feeling I’m going to be running my ass off this week and probably won’t see you.”
“Don’t work too hard,” she cautioned. “You know how very Type A you can get. I don’t want you having a breakdown or something.”
&n
bsp; “I won’t have a breakdown. I promise.”
“Famous last words.”
I took another drink. “I’ve learned. I’ve gotten more organized. I’ve gotten better at scheduling. Now, there is no need to panic. Everything will be done on time. It will be last minute, but it will be done.”
She nodded. “Good girl. I don’t want you having a stroke at the ripe age of twenty-eight.”
“I won’t.”
“Speaking of Type A, how is your dad?” she asked.
I shrugged. “I have been busy. He’s been busy. I have barely talked to him at all. I really wish he would relax a little more.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black. You two are both wound very tight.”
“He made me this way,” I protested.
“Yes, he did.”
“Now that you mention it though, I probably should check in on him. He works way too much. When he isn’t working, he is doing something else that is far from relaxing.”
She gave me a knowing look. “Yeah, weird. It’s like I know someone just like him.”
“Ha. Ha.”
An idea popped into my head. I quickly jotted it down. When I looked up, she had her arms folded over her chest. She was right. I did work hard. I worked a lot. I liked working.
Chapter 3
Xander
I picked up a tool that I had no idea what it was. I examined it and put it back down on the table alongside Charlie’s workstation. I looked around the massive warehouse with various parts of cargo ships being manufactured or repaired. I knew exactly what I was looking at when it came to the bits and pieces of the ships.
“This baby is almost finished,” Charlie said, lovingly patting an engine housing.
I walked around the massive piece that would eventually be a part of one of the cargo ships I had designed. “It looks good.”
“Of course, it looks good. I made it.”
“I designed it,” I reminded him.
He grinned. “Damn straight you did. And I’m glad you did. If you didn’t, I wouldn’t be working as much as I have been. Look at this place. We have work lined up for the next two years. Your fancy ships are the bee’s knees.”
I rolled my eyes. “When did you turn ninety?” I asked, referencing his very old, outdated phrase.
“Do you want a tour?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Nah, once you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all.”
He flashed a smile. “That isn’t even remotely true.”
His mind was in the gutter. “Please do not regale me with tales of your latest girlfriend or whatever it is you call these women you date for a few weeks.”
“I call them my ladies,” he said with his boyish grin. “How was the trip to LA?”
I groaned. “As expected.”
“What exactly were you doing up there?”
“I was presented with an award. I wasn’t going to go at all, but my assistant told me it was a big deal. Then other people told me it was a big deal. I went to get it fucking over with.”
“What kind of an award?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know, some environmental thing or something.”
He slapped a hand to his forehead. “How do you not know what it is for?”
“Because,” I answered. It was a lame answer, but I had no good answer. “I went, I got it, and that’s that.”
“Where is it?”
“In the backseat of my car, I suppose.”
“It’s pretty clear you have never actually got an award before,” he mused.
“Why do you say that?”
He smirked. “I bet the best award you ever won was one of those pretty little participation ribbons.”
“Fuck you.”
“It’s an award, man! A really cool bit of recognition. You did good! Celebrate it. Be proud of what you have accomplished.”
I supposed I was proud. Somewhat. I just didn’t see the need to boast. “I am proud,” I argued.
“You are a billionaire, and don’t deny that you are. I know you are. You don’t act like it, which is a good thing, I guess, but damn, be proud.”
I scowled at him. “You want me to act like a peacock? Should I strut around boasting about my wealth?”
He slowly shook his head. “Never mind. I’m just glad I knew you when.”
“When?”
“Before you became this guy. You are one step away from a big, bushy beard and living off the grid in a tiny little shack.”
That made me smile. “That isn’t a terrible idea.”
“Living is a good thing,” he started the lecture he usually doled out.
“Don’t,” I warned. “I’ve heard it. I like my life just the way it is.”
“Alone.”
“Unencumbered,” I shot back.
He laughed. “That’s a big word. But I guess coming from a guy that designed the ships that are changing the world, I would expect nothing less.”
“How is business?” I asked as my eyes scanned the massive building once again.
“Good. Like I said, I’m not worried about being laid off anytime soon. In fact, I talked with the plant manager and he and I are going to discuss hiring more people.”
“Damn, that’s awesome.”
“It is awesome. I can’t wait to see what else you have up your sleeve.”
I smiled, shrugging a shoulder. “Not a lot. I should probably get going though. I am supposed to meet with a private client that wants to hire me to design a boat for him.”
“Wow, you still do that?”
“Not like I have a lot going on.”
My phone started ringing in my jeans pocket. I pulled it out, expecting it to be the man that I was going to be meeting with. It wasn’t. It was one of my top clients. “Hello?” I answered, praying there wasn’t an issue with one of my ships.
I felt like they were all my babies. I had designed every element of the cargo ships and felt a connection to them. There were times, not often, when there was an issue. The people who bought my ships, although I didn’t technically build them, trusted me to fix any problems. That was why I was successful.
“Xander, this is Al Sampson.”
“Hi, Al,” I said as I took a few steps away from Charlie. “What can I do for you?”
“We are having a party, a celebration to thank our hardworking crews and employees in all facets of the company. I wanted to invite you to celebrate with us. After all, it’s your ships that have given us our most profitable year in the company’s history.”
I grimaced and looked over at Charlie. “A party?” I repeated.
Charlie’s eyebrows shot up. “Where?” he mouthed.
I frowned and shook my head. “I can check my schedule,” I said, ready to makeup an excuse for not going.
Charlie’s eyes grew round. I didn’t get a chance to hear what Al said because Charlie pulled the phone from my hand. “Hello, this is Charles. I’m Xander’s personal assistant. He had to step out for a moment. What is it you wanted to ask him?”
I shook my head as Charlie nodded, grinning big. I waited while Al spoke.
“You know, that is an excellent idea,” Charlie said. “He would love to attend. There will be a plus one included with the invitation I gather?”
I groaned, putting a hand to my head. Charlie turned his back to me. “He will be there. Thank you so much. Take care.”
Charlie turned back to look at me with a very satisfied expression on his face.
“What did you do?” I asked.
“We’re going to a party! Free alcohol and food.”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t need free food and alcohol.”
“But I do.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Okay, maybe I don’t need it, but I want it. I like to party. It will be a great way to meet new people.”
I let out a long sigh. “You mean new women. I think you’ve about run through most of the women in San Diego.”
“What did you get me into? When is it?”
“Saturday,” he answered.
“This Saturday?” I asked with surprise. “What if I had plans? That’s not a lot of notice.”
“You don’t have plans. You and I know both know that.”
I didn’t have plans. I never had plans. It was why I liked my life.
“Boring,” Charlie said. “You have got to live a little.”
I took a dramatic inhale. “I’m living just fine.”
“Gee, that sense of humor will definitely have the ladies falling at your feet.”
“I don’t care if they fall at my feet or otherwise,” I said. “What kind of party is this? Do I have to wear a tux, and how long do I have to stay there?”
“No tux, but a suit would be a good idea. You have to stay for… let’s say an hour. You can survive an hour, can’t you?”
“I don’t know if I can,” I complained. “I hate these things.”
“You hate anything that pulls you away from your giant house, AKA your compound.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “I like my compound. We could have a party there.”
He curled his lip. “Gee, your company is good and all, but I was looking forward to a little action and I don’t mean sex.”
I wasn’t going to get out of it. He wanted me to go and I had been very neglectful as a friend. I was a hermit. I rarely went out with him. I preferred to hide away from the world. He was a social butterfly. “Fine, I’ll go.”
He slapped my shoulder. “It will be fun. Free drinks are always a party.”
“Do you need a ride?” I offered.
“Nope and neither do you. Free drinks. That means we are going to be drinking. We’ll call a taxi.”
“No thanks. I’ll hire a car.”
He laughed. “We both know you are going to cut out early and leave me. I’ll be taking a cab.”
I wasn’t going to deny it. “All right. I better get out of here. I’ll talk to you before Saturday.”
“I know where you live,” he warned. “Don’t try and hide. I’ll climb that fence.”
I knew he would. “I won’t stand you up.”