Private Engagement Read online

  “Where’s Mari?” Emily blurted. “Where’s the team? The meeting?”

  “The meeting will be starting in seven minutes,” Troy answered her. “At 9:30, on the dot, just when it was scheduled.”

  Emily’s brow furrowed as she tried to reason this out in her head. It wasn’t unusual for the conference room to be empty in the minutes before a meeting started. Though Mari insisted upon punctuality, she criticized the loafing about, as she called, that happened when people gathered too early before the start time. She accused people of not having enough to do, of being lazy. So each meeting became a carefully timed, meticulously choreographed routine where attendees would show up precisely within one minute of the start time.

  “What do you mean the meeting starts at 9:30? It says 9:00 on my calendar. See?” Emily thrust her tablet into Troy’s face, poking at its appointment page with her finger.

  “On your calendar,” Troy explained patiently, “the meeting starts at 9:00. For everyone else, including Mari, it starts at 9:30. And it’s a good thing too…because if it started at 9:00, you’d be very, very late. Unforgivably late.” Troy smiled smugly at Emily.

  “You mean you did this on purpose?” she accused him. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because,” Troy came back at her, “you might be able to hide from everyone else around here that something’s going on with you, but you can’t sneak anything past me. You’re just lucky Mari was in Paris all week so she didn’t notice you coming in late every day this week. I knew you needed to be on time today, so I made sure that you were.”

  Emily shook her head in disbelief. She really had thought that her tardiness this week had gone unnoticed by everyone, including Troy. She should have known better; Troy kept better tabs on her than she did on herself. She hoped that once she started her own firm, he’d join her, not as her assistant, but as an event planner. In fact, all week, she’d been in meetings with her accountant and a realtor figuring out the how she might actually make this happen.

  This morning, she had been late because she’d been visiting the cutest little storefront in Back Bay where she’d instantly envisioned her new offices. She could picture the client intake room, more cozy and warm than the extravagant decadence of Rivera Productions. She would serve tea in mismatched china and homemade muffins and scones (okay, homemade by the bakery down the street, but still). She’d ask her brides to close their eyes and imagine their wedding day and then tell her what they saw. She knew she had lingered too long in the shop, entranced by its charm. For that, she’d been running late. Or she thought she’d been running late.

  She narrowed her eyes at Troy. Did he know what she was up to? She was so close to being free of Rivera Productions, but if Mari found out she was leaving before she had everything in place, her plan could be ruined. Emily needed time to approach vendors throughout the city, asking that they continue to work with her even if Mari tried to use her influence to have them blacklist her. Some businesses, she knew, were too scared to be anything but loyal to Mari, and might refuse to work with Emily if Mari told them not to, but Emily hoped she had built enough of her own enduring relationships with some smaller vendors that she could survive. Still, she needed to tread carefully. If Mari lashed out, Emily didn’t want to feel the sting. That was why she’d told no one of her plans. Now Troy was picking at an invisible piece of lint on his trouser leg, avoiding her eyes.

  “Troy,” she began.

  He cut in. “I don’t know anything. I don’t know about any storefront for rent. I didn’t accidentally intercept any phone call on your cell confirming this morning’s appointment.

  “And I certainly didn’t suspect that you might be lingering in some hypothetical storefront for far longer than allowed. And I definitely would not deliberately alter your calendar to ensure that you are on time for the most important client briefing of your career.”

  With that, Troy thrust a bottle of water into her hand, and steered her back into the conference room. 9:29 and 30 seconds.

  “See, here you are, right on time,” he said as he stepped back to make room for Mari, who brushed by him as if he were invisible.

  “Why aren’t you ready, Emily?” Mari snapped at her as she whisked by. “Do we all need to wait on you to get started? Really, please finish your gossiping…I wouldn’t want to interrupt your chatting with, I don’t know, work.

  Emily shuddered to think about what would have happened if the meeting really had started at 9:00. She mouthed a silent thank you to Troy, who bowed behind Mari’s back, and then Emily slid into one of the free chairs around the table, ready to begin.

  *****

  “Good morning, everyone,” Mari began with obvious insincerity. A chorus of equally insincere “good mornings” echoed back at her. Emily wouldn’t have been surprised if Mari countered with a stronger, more forceful “Good Morning” in an effort to have the group parrot the words back at her loudly and in sync, like a teacher might do to her first grade class. But Mari wasn’t one for pleasantries, and she jumped right into business.

  “We are entertaining a new client this morning, who is deciding which firm she would like to produce her upcoming wedding. She will pick us. She is the niece of the governor, and more importantly, the daughter of Vivienne West, of whom I’m sure you are all familiar.”

  Of course, everyone recognized the name Vivienne West. She was one of Hollywood’s leading women, and had been since she was a young girl of eighteen. Now fifty-six, she was aging gracefully and had recently become engaged herself, to a prominent evangelical preacher who boasted he had the largest congregation east of the Mississippi. Since media reports began linking Vivienne to Ron Gaines a year previously, she had all but disappeared from acting and her brief media appearances showed a much different woman from the one who had appeared on the big screen for decades and had three Oscars to show for it.

  Her fiancé, better known as Reverend Ron, was known for his conservative teaching and promotion of traditional family values and the preservation of “Christian moral life”. In less than a year, Vivienne had gone from flashy and dynamic to washed-out and meek. She now appeared only as a backdrop for her fiancé, hovering behind him. Seen, but never heard. There was much speculation about how they had become a couple, with rumors about abuse, multiple wives, and brainwashing swirling around the couple. No wedding date for the couple had been set. Now it appeared that the daughter was also getting married.

  Mari went on, “Not only will this be a high profile event, with a select and elite guest list, I have also been informed that there is no budget for this wedding. Let me repeat that: no budget. They want only the best of everything. They, Vivienne and Charlotte, will be here in,” she looked down at her watch, “twenty minutes. I intend to secure their business. Emily, you will sit in with me for the meeting. This is an introductory meeting for all of us, and Vivienne specifically said she did not want a proposal of ideas. She claims that they will ‘just know’ if we are the company they want to work with. Of course, I expect you all to have ready lists of the best companies for every aspect of this wedding.”

  When everyone remained seated for a moment, absorbing Mari’s words, she snapped. “Go! What are you all waiting for?”

  The room cleared with the exception of Mari and Emily. While one part of Emily was thrilled with the chance to work such a high profile event, she also knew that if she messed it up, there would be hell to pay. Mari wouldn’t be content to fire her…she would absolutely destroy her if anything went wrong.

  Mari shot Emily a glance. “Fix your hair,” she ordered. “And make sure we have decaf coffee, tea and sparkling water ready. And a selection of finger sandwiches. Half gluten-free.” Her voice was sharp, but the way she drummed her fingertips on the tabletop, an uncharacteristic gesture, showed Emily that Mari was nervous.

  Emily hurried away, grateful for the few minutes she would have to compose herself before this meeting. She wondered how it would go, and how the planning would wor
k, should she secure the job. She had seen a number of Vivienne’s films, of course, but hadn’t followed her once she had announced her engagement and left the public arena. Emily knew even less about her fiancé, Ron, though she vaguely remembered something about tax problems related to him a few years back. Charlotte, Emily knew nothing about. She had no idea if the wedding would be conservative, in deference to her soon-to-be stepfather’s position, or if it would be a throwback to the wild and glamorous Hollywood parties Vivienne has once been famous for throwing. This meeting would be interesting, to say the least.

  *****

  Emily entered the client intake room a precise thirty-two seconds before Vivienne and Charlotte were due to arrive. She had to admit to a flutter of nerves and excitement in her stomach at their impending arrival. Troy, as always, had the catering and flowers set up and ready to go. Mari walked in seconds after Emily, and began barking orders.

  “You will not engage with the clients; that’s my job. Your job is to take notes only, and back me up by smiling and giving the occasional nod. Mostly, you should remain unnoticed. Understand?”

  Emily nodded, but didn’t speak, practicing her role.

  “Good.” Mari continued, “And you’ve arranged the refreshments?”

  Again, Emily nodded, mutely. Mari looked at Emily with a sharp glance, as if trying to determine if she was mocking her. Emily was, but she hid it behind a bland smile.

  Before Mari could wonder about it further, the receptionist called in to announce their guests had arrived. At the news, an amazing transformation took place. The sour scowl of impatience that normally graced Mari’s face smoothed away into a look of caring and sweetness and sheer pleasure. It was almost scary to see it happen, as if you were watching, in person, Mr. Hyde turning into Dr. Jekyll.

  Emily’s thoughts didn’t stay long on Mari, however, as she eagerly gazed past her boss waiting for mother and daughter to enter. When they did, Emily bit back a gasp of surprise. The daughter was as stunning and ethereal as the mother was wan and dowdy. Charlotte seemed to drink in every drop of light around her and reflect it back in a luminous cloud of angelic perfection, while Vivienne seemed to fade away into the background. Yet, in Vivienne’s face, you could see just the faintest glimmer of what she had been. Now pale and make-up free, Vivienne’s strong cheekbones and clear blue eyes hinted at the beauty she had been, and still could be, if she would just straighten her shoulders and shrug off the weight that seemed to be holding her down.

  In facial structure, mother and daughter were similar, with wide blue eyes, pert nose, and pouty red lips set in a heart shaped face. In contrast to her mother, however, Charlotte’s face was expertly painted with flawless make-up, and her designer outfit was both expensive looking and flattering to her svelte figure. At 5’2”, Mari and Charlotte were nearly even in height, particularly since they were both sporting three-inch heels. At 5’8” in bare feet, Emily felt like a giant towering over a group of hobbits, and Mari’s scowl as Emily moved forward to shake hands with Vivienne and Charlotte enforced the feeling that she was an ogre in the midst of fairies.

  Mari’s welcome to the duo was as warm and open as could be, and she clasped both their hands firmly in hers as she ushered them into the room and settled them in the soft chairs.

  “Welcome,” Mari gushed as they settled themselves. “I’m Mari Rivera, and it is such a pleasure to meet you both, Mrs. West, Ms. West. We are so honored to have you here with us, and I can assure you that whatever your dreams, whatever your desires are for your wedding, I can deliver them to you. No dream is too big, nor is any request too small.”

  The women appeared to size Mari up, but neither spoke immediately. Finally, Vivienne spoke, with her quiet, southern voice.

  “Thank you, Ms. Rivera. You are too kind, and please, call me Vivienne. As I told you when we spoke earlier, my daughter Charlotte has just become engaged, and we are looking for someone to help us with the wedding planning. My busy travel schedule with my own fiancé precludes my ability to help with some of the planning details.” Emily noticed a spark of something in Vivienne’s eyes when she brought up her fiancé, but it flashed so quickly that Emily couldn’t begin to guess what it meant, or even if it had actually been there at all.

  “So we need someone to take over what I cannot manage. We are more than assured of your quality of work, and are confident you can organize a magnificent event. What we are most interested in, however, is finding someone who will have the personality and compatibility with Charlotte to feel like family. Charlotte would like to feel she has a friend helping her with her wedding, and not just a company.”

  Mari blanched a bit at that speech; her normal MO was to function like a factory assembly line, putting all the vendors and pieces together. She wasn’t one for handholding and girl talk. Not Mari, she was all efficiency.

  Emily thought that what Charlotte wanted was exactly what she herself could deliver; she just needed the chance. But with a client this big, no way was Mari going to turn the reins over. She might have Emily doing all the grunt work, but Mari would be sure to claim all the credit, and all the face-time, with the Wests. Of course, should anything go wrong, Mari would never take the blame.

  But Mari would say anything to win a client, as she was doing now. “Of course, and that is exactly how we operate. I often describe us as one big family around here. And every time we work with a client on an event, we just bring that person right into our fold.”

  Now Mari turned to Charlotte. “Can you tell me a little a bit about yourself, and what you are envisioning your special day to be? And, since the lucky man isn’t here, maybe you could start by telling me about your fiancé. His name?”

  Charlotte startled a bit as she was called upon to speak, but recovered nicely. “Well, my fiancé’s name is…” she paused, “Ethan. And he’s smart, and handsome, and successful.”

  Mari laughed. “Of course he’s all those things, Charlotte dear. You wouldn’t be marrying him if he wasn’t! Am I right?”

  Mari looked back and forth between the mother and daughter, expecting them to laugh along with her joke, if one could even call it a joke. The women stared back at her, waiting for her to go on.

  “What I meant was, could you tell me more about his likes, what it was about him that attracted you to him,” Mari went on, undeterred.

  Charlotte stared back, looking momentarily confused. Interesting, thought Emily.

  Then Charlotte spoke. “Well, he’s, um, funny. I mean, we joke around a lot. And he’s smart, like I said. We, um, talk about things together a lot. You know, current events and such. And he likes to work out. Run, I mean, and bike. We, uh, bike together?”

  Here Vivienne broke in. “Ethan is a lovely man, and he loves my daughter. In addition, he has given over all control over the wedding planning to Charlotte and me. He has a very busy work schedule, and knows that he will be happy with whatever we decide with regards to the event.”

  Wow, Emily thought. Not just a shrinking violet, are you, Vivienne? Interesting.

  Charlotte nodded in agreement. “He had planned to be here for this meeting today. He was here, in fact, but he had to take a phone call for work just as he arrived, and unfortunately, he won’t make it now.”

  Emily watched the calculations in Mari’s brain reflected on her face. Emily knew that Mari was changing tactics. If the groom was not involved, then that made things so much easier for her. Less conflict…and usually that meant a bigger budget. Women considered the look and the theme to be of utmost importance, while men tended to look at the price of flowers and wonder why they had to spend thousands of dollars on something that was going to be dead and brown the next day.

  Mari smiled, though to Emily it looked more like an evil sneer. “Well, I’m sure Ethan is just lovely. But we women here all know what it takes to put together a wedding, and we don’t need a man involved for that. So let’s talk about theme, colors—”

  Here Vivienne interrupted again. “B
efore we talk about themes, Charlotte and I still need to feel comfortable with whomever we choose. We’d like to hear from you about how, exactly, you will work with us, and how we will be treated, and how our planner will prioritize our needs and give us the attention we want throughout the planning process.”

  A soft knock at the door, signaling the arrival of the refreshments, saved Mari from needing to answer. As Mari beckoned the caterer to come in and set up the drinks and food, she shot Emily a telling glance, and motioned with her eyes that Emily was to shift her chair closer to the rest of the group, so that they could all be one big happy family together.

  Emily rolled her eyes slightly when Mari turned her back, and then was horrified when her eyes fell on Charlotte, who was looking directly at her. No doubt, Charlotte had seen the eye roll. It wouldn’t take much for Charlotte to understand what the meant. Charlotte may not have said much yet, but she had a shrewd look in her eyes that indicated a sharp mind. She shared that look with her mother. Emily was sure that if Rivera Productions didn’t have a signed contract with the West name on it by the time this meeting was over, there was a good chance Emily would be out of a job.

  Shit, she thought. Or maybe this was more of a fuck moment. Frustrated and annoyed with herself for being so transparent, Emily tugged a little too hard on the chair that had been originally placed outside of the inner circle. It was heavier than she had expected, and in her effort to move the solid piece of furniture, the heel of her left shoe caught in a loop of hand-sheared wool of the area rug. Emily’s ankle turned with the sudden change of momentum. Suddenly off balance, she felt her other leg scramble in an attempt to regain her equilibrium, while her body twisted around, a jolt of pain exploding in her ankle as her shoe stuck fast in the carpet and her body twirled around it.

  Emily’s arms wind-milled out around her, and she felt with horrifying clarity one of them smack directly into the back of Mari, who was holding the china coffeepot, and pouring the hot, black liquid into Vivienne’s cup.