Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
“How long have we got until people start to arrive?”
“About thirty seconds,” she says.
The door is propped open and I tuck my blouse into my pencil skirt just as the first guest arrives. Most of the people we invited today are wedding planners and event organizers. But a few are bringing couples along with them, to see if the space works for their wedding. The website with the renderings and pictures of the view just went live and our calendar is open, ready to accept bookings as soon as they come in.
Joan’s cell rings as I step forward to greet our first guest.
“Nancy Franco?” I ask as a woman in her late forties wearing a canary-yellow dress and Chanel jacket comes through the door. I’ve done my research on this woman. She’s one of the most powerful event planners in New York. The Clintons, the Hiltons, and the Gettys have all used her. If I need to impress anyone today, it’s her.
We shake hands and I introduce myself just as a waiter bearing a tray of champagne appears beside us. We both take a glass.
“So thrilled you could join us for our launch.”
“You have the perfect day for it,” she says.
“We absolutely do. But when we start hosting weddings, we won’t need to worry about that because of the incredible retractable gazebo we’re installing. Can I show you the video?”
Just before I press play on the screen behind me, Joan reappears.
“We just got our first booking,” she says, beaming at me.
“We did?” I ask. I was hoping for a few tentative inquiries today, but Nancy’s the only person to arrive. “Who from?”
“Margaret Taylor,” Joan replies. Margaret Taylor is the second-most powerful event planner in Manhattan. To get a booking from her so quickly is astonishing.
I register the surprise in Nancy’s expression. Given she’s here so early, I get the impression she likes to have the scoop on opportunities like this. I don’t want to offend her by thinking we’ve given someone else priority access. “So she’s booked it sight unseen,” I remark. “How wonderful. Is she coming today?”
“She’s downstairs, checking out the ballroom with the team down there. She’s on her way up.”
I nod, then turn my full attention back to Nancy. If I can get two of the most powerful women in New York event planning on board today, I’ll have earned my keep here at The Mayfair. “Let me show you this gazebo,” I say to Nancy, “before anyone else can catch a glimpse.”
The video plays and I explain how easy it will be to set up. She asks a few questions and then gets pulled away by another event planner she clearly wants to catch up with.
Just then, Margaret Taylor comes through the door. I smile and go to greet her—and freeze in my tracks as I see Leo behind her. Did he even know we were having the launch today, or was he coming for another reason and just happened to stumble into this event?
His eyes slice to mine, and he smiles.
“Jules Moore,” Margaret says. “So nice to see you.”
We exchange air kisses. This is not the first time we’ve met. I’ve dealt with her for a wedding she booked in our ballroom this spring—one of only four in the first quarter of next year.
“Thank you for coming,” I say. “I understand you’ve booked on behalf of one of your clients already.”
“Yes, very excited to be able to support you with the wonderful things you’re doing with this hotel. Aren’t we, Leo?”
It’s like a metal claw has grabbed my heart right out of my chest.
He grins. “Yes, very excited,” he says.
Leo? My Leo? The Leo standing right in front of me is getting married?
“I must see that video of the gazebo you promised,” she says.
Joan takes over and guides Margaret to the table and laptop. And thank god, because I know if I move, I’ll crack in two. Leo doesn’t move with her. Instead, he puts his hand at the small of my back. Somehow I manage to shuffle to the side of the roof terrace, right by the railings.
“Congratulations,” I manage to eke out, although I can’t muster a smile.
I glance up to find him looking right at me. I want to disappear through thirty-five floors to the basement. I feel like I’m turning to dust right before his eyes, like my insides are drying up and will blow away in the wind any minute now.
“I booked it for us,” he says.
I hold my breath. What did he just say?
“I wanted to make sure we got the first booking. It seemed fitting.”
“I don’t understand,” I choke out. “You’re getting married and…”
“Oh god!” It’s the first time I’ve ever heard Leo sound panicked. “No, I’m not getting married. Not to someone else, anyway. We’re getting married. I hope. In two years.”