Party Girl (26 page)

“It was inappropriate to have seen you outside the office, and I apologize for whatever impression I might have given. Going forward, Selah will be the direct contact for our Barker-Ash events.” I look away from him.

“This is crazy.” He grabs for my hand, but I back away, bumping into the conference table behind me.

“She can’t tell you who you’re allowed to see outside of work. You understand that, don’t you? I’m not a client of SSE. In fact I’ve already told Selah: this is the last event she’ll do with us. I don’t agree with the way she does business, and truthfully, I just don’t like her as a person. Not even our buyout minimums are worth risking association with some of her shadier practices.”

What is he talking about?
I am surprised to hear this because she hasn’t mentioned it at all, but I try not to let it show.

“So there’s nothing wrong with us hanging out. Honestly, the only inappropriate part of this whole situation was her reaction to it. Come on.” He grabs my hand before I can pull it away, and it feels so good it’s almost painful. “You look so sad; it’s not like you at all. Let’s sneak out of here for a quick lunch. I’m starving and you can’t survive on candy alone.” He eyes the empty Skittles bag on the floor next to my finished pillows. “I’ll even make you pay so it’s not date-like at all.”

He smiles at me, and that grin is gold and glitter and everything magic, and for one single moment I consider letting him hold my hand all the way down the stairs. I let myself have that single breath to dream about what it would be like go to lunch at some cozy little bistro as the snow falls on Main Street outside the window. And then I remember Selah telling me how naive I am to believe I am special, and how many other girls Brody has taken on similar lunches. And, lastly, what she would do to me if she ever found out. I remove my hand from his and watch his face fall.

“Please leave,” I whisper, miserable. “This is all I’ve ever wanted to do, and if she finds you here I’ll never get an opportunity like this again.”

He nods slowly and gives me a tight smile as he moves towards the door. Just as he reaches it, he spins back around and the look on his face is one I’ve seen before, that night at Twenty-Five. Like he is fighting with himself about whether or not to say something.

“You’re smart and ambitious, and I absolutely respect working hard to get somewhere. But Landon, you are too sweet to work for someone like this. She’s harsh and fake, and if you let her, she’ll rub out all the best parts about you. If you want to work in events, there are a ton of different opportunities at one of our properties. I can make some calls.”

He’s so earnest in the offer, but it’s exactly the kind of thing Selah alluded to when she said I’d use him to get ahead, and maybe that’s why he’s doing it . . . because it suits his plans too.

I spin back around to the pillow I had been working on.

“I appreciate your offer, but if you’ll excuse me, I have a ton of work to do before the walk-through.”

He doesn’t say another word and I never see his face, so I don’t know how or if my words affect him. I stare down at the logo in front of me as the door opens and then closes again behind me.

Chapter TWENTY-TWO

“How you doin’, Brinks?” Taylor calls to me over the music.

It is the third day of the festival, our fifth in Park City, and the fourth party we’ve thrown in the last two days. The night before we’d left the venue at 3:00 a.m., and the alarm on my phone went off at seven this morning so we could open up the venue as a daytime lounge. It is now nearly midnight, and I am fairly sure that a constant stream of caffeine and Emergen-C packets are the only things keeping me upright.

“I’m hanging in there.” I smile at him as he removes his big jacket and runs a hand through his hair to get the snowflakes out.

“What’s tonight’s drama?” He leans against the hallway wall next to me in the near dark. Once a party is off and running, the latter part of the evening just turns into lurking somewhere in the shadows and babysitting the room in case there is trouble.

“Let’s see . . . The landlord came by and tried to sneak his teenage daughter in again to get pictures with celebrities. Security stopped him at the door, and he was really annoyed. I had to kindly explain that it was a private event and even if he owned the building he couldn’t just waltz inside. It didn’t go well. I ended up giving him three of the VIP gift bags, which finally calmed him enough to leave. Hmm, what else? There was an issue with capacity, and we had to turn away a bunch of people. The personal publicists were freaking out, but I think it was mostly their friends who were trying to get in, so whatever. At some point I commandeered a plate of appetizers from Revere, but I put it down for a second and a busser cleared it and I’m starving.” I smile over at him. “How about yourself?”

“Well first of all,” he says, reaching into the pocket of his jacket and tossing to me a bag of pretzels. “It’s not gourmet but—”

“Thank you!” I beam at him. “You’re always feeding me!” I am already opening the bag to pop one in my mouth.

“You’re welcome. Now as for me, I’ve just spent the last hour huddled outside the back exit helping Rodriguez fix the security camera.”

“I didn’t know that came under your purview.” I smile through a mouthful of pretzel. “Purview” is another one of Selah’s favorite words.

“It doesn’t. I mostly just held the flashlight for him. It had to be done because we’re contractually obligated to have one for security purposes; it was just our good luck that it decided to crap out after sundown and during a snowstorm.”

“I’ve had a ton of that sort of luck this week myself.”

“And have you started counting down the days yet until you get to fly out of here?” He reaches and snags a pretzel for himself.

“Five more to go,” I say, miserable, and he laughs. “But tomorrow night we’re off, and I plan on sleeping for at least twelve hours straight.”

“You haven’t gone out with us once yet. Tomorrow night is perfect.” He gives me a sidelong glance. “There’s a really good Thai place down the street, and then there’s a couple of parties we could go to.”

“Yes to the Thai, but as takeout only. As for the parties, thanks for the offer, but I won’t even pretend to be interested. I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired in my life.” I look down at my watch and grumble, and then hand him the bag in my hand. “Here, you finish these. I have to go make sure the hipster DJ got his cocktail; part of his rider was a fresh gimlet every forty-five minutes.”

“At least he gets points for an original drink choice.”

“The best part is that I serve it to him in a to-go coffee cup so no one knows he’s drinking alcohol. Apparently, he’s, like, five minutes out of rehab.”

“Ah, Brinks . . . You sound jaded already.” He laughs at my pained expression and bumps me sweetly with his shoulder.

“I can’t help it. I watched one of America’s sweethearts scream at a barista this morning because we ran out of soymilk. And I’m pretty sure that one of MTV’s
Teen
Moms
was dancing on the bar earlier . . . and if she’s here, Taylor,
who’s
watching her baby?” I say warily. “And the worst of it is, I’m too tired to care. I promise I’ll go back to being appalled by it all once we’re back at sea level.”

I turn to walk down the hallway, and he calls after me. “Now you know why we all hate Sundance!” I can hear his laughter, and I consider turning around to stick my tongue out at him, but I’m too exhausted and can’t work up the necessary energy.

The next night I let everyone talk me into going with them to Thai on Main for dinner. I’ve long since passed the tired phase and am floating somewhere in a sort of numb, giggly state, but so are the rest of them. We make for quite a group when we finally snag a table by the bar. Everyone else orders drinks, but I’m positive I’ll fall asleep in my curry if I have a drop of alcohol. I opt for hot tea, which is perfect for my scratchy throat, and I share
gang keow wan
with Miko. It’s so spicy it makes my nose run, but that’s a nice change from the stuffiness so I don’t care. Apparently another side effect of Sundance: everyone working there spends the entirety of the trip fighting off various forms of illness.

After dinner we trudge back up the hill to the house so people can change into their “going out” clothes, and Miko and I can change into our “staying in” clothes. I’m snuggled up with a box of double-stuffed Oreos on the sofa in the game room while Miko tries to figure out how to work the DVD player in front of me.

“What are we watching?” Taylor walks by me and steals a handful of cookies, stretching himself out on the loveseat catty-corner.

He’s wearing sweatpants and an old concert tee . . . clearly not his “going out” clothes.

“I thought you were all headed to a party.” I break apart a cookie so I can eat the icing out of the middle.

He shrugs. “Movie night sounded better. What’s the choice this evening?”

Miko beams at him as she plops down next to me. “
Twilight
. And just so you know, it’s not even the fourth one when they had a big budget. This is the very first one where their makeup doesn’t even go down onto their necks, and Kristen Stewart does that whole exorcism thing before Edward sucks the venom out. Sure you wanna stay?” she taunts.

“The acting is pretty terrible,” I warn him solemnly.

“If it’s so bad, then why are you guys watching it?”

“Because it’s a classic and neither of us has the brain capacity to watch anything deeper . . . and because Rob Pattinson is pretty and will make us feel better,” Miko tells him.

“Sounds good to me.” Taylor snags a blanket hanging over the back of the sofa and wraps it around himself.

The movie starts up, complete with the random piano music and the wide shots of the forest. He teases us for the first twenty minutes about what kind of adults watch something this terrible. But then he quiets down, and by the time Edward saves Bella from the street thugs he’s incensed.

“Wait, why is he being so weird to her in the car?” he demands suddenly.

“Because the smell of her blood bothers him. He’s a
vampire
!” Miko says, annoyed.

“I’m not sure why she thinks he’s such a catch. He’s basically rude to her all the time.” He grabs a bowl of popcorn from the coffee table and shoves some in his mouth.

“He’s not rude to her. He’s afraid he’ll accidentally kill her! He has to keep himself in check constantly . . . Can you even imagine?” Miko screeches in exasperation. “This is one of the great literary love stories and—you know what, stop talking! If you want to watch, you have to quiet down!” She scolds him like he’s a little boy, and I’m laughing so hard by the end of her tirade I’m in tears.

The two of them continue to bicker about plot points and soundtrack music, and this is the happiest I’ve felt in weeks. I lay my head on the arm of the sofa, content that I’ll make it through the rest of this festival in one piece. I’m asleep before Bella even gets to watch them play vampire baseball.

The next four days fly by in a blur of party production, frigid temperatures, and sleep deprivation. On the plus side, I now totally understand why people who fight wars together remain close even after they return home. There’s something about spending intense, stressful time with other people that bonds you forever, and I can safely say that the members of the SSE team working this week will be lifelong friends. Taylor wasn’t kidding when he said that Selah was smart enough to hire good people; I’ve seen evidence of it over and over. Every single person on our team is the epitome of grace under pressure. I’ve watched Davies create thirty-nine centerpieces, by herself, with only half her expected flower order. I’ve watched the production team change our space over three times in one day, once during a snowstorm. I’ve seen Revere remember the food likes, dislikes, and allergies of at least one hundred VIPs and never once break a sweat when they complained or asked for something different. Probably most impressive is that everyone has managed to keep a good attitude despite how tired we all are. Between Revere’s bawdy jokes and Miko coming up with endless games of Would You Rather, we’ve managed to laugh our way through most of the long days on site. The only tense moments happen when Selah comes in, but since she spends most of her time wining and dining the clients or skiing with her friends, those moments are few and far between.

We are nearing the end of a cast dinner on the second-to-last night in town when Miko and Revere find me in the back room sorting gift bags.

“Tonight we’re drinking!” Miko declares.

“Hold on. Thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty, forty-one, forty-two,” I say, counting the bags. I look over at Chadwick, who’s been helping me get them ready. “Can you take them down to the lobby area and put them on that table we set up?”

“Sure thing.”

I turn back to Miko and Revere, both grinning like naughty children.

“We. Are. Drinking. Tonight.” Miko enunciates each word.

“I don’t know.” I grab some lip gloss from my pocket and swipe it on. “Tomorrow’s one of our biggest events—”

“Yes, but it’s our
final
event, and tomorrow night we go too late to celebrate. This is our last night here that we’ll be off early enough to do anything.”

I smirk at them both and head back out to the party area; they follow closely behind, extolling the virtues of one last hurrah.

“You haven’t had a single drink the entire week,” Miko whines. “That’s not even human!”

“I’ve been too tired and I’ve been fighting a cold and I’ve had to get up early every morning—”

“You don’t have to get up early tomorrow!” Revere sings. “We don’t have to be on site until noon.”

“And we’ve already invited people,” Miko adds.

“What people exactly? You know we have a security deposit on the rental and if anything happens—”

“
Mom!
Stop freaking out, it’s like eight extra people, not the makings of a rave,” Miko barks. “Now then,
we’re
done here so we’re going to do a run for snacky-poos and more wine.”

“Did you already have a drink?” I look closer into her eyes, but it’s too dim to see anything clearly.

“Neither here nor there, miss!” Revere says haughtily. “You guys finish up quickly, and we’ll see you back at the house, OK?”

“Fine.” As soon as I turn around I feel a swift smack on my bum. I whirl around but they’re both running like mad back down the hallway to escape any retribution.
Those two are trouble.

I smile and walk back out to the lower floor of the space. We’ve transformed it into an elegant dining room for tonight’s forty-person party. I straighten the custom napkins on the bar and return a few abandoned wine glasses to scullery. The cast’s movie is premiering tonight at nine, and it’s already 8:40 p.m., so they are starting to make their way out in groups to make it to the theater on time. I chat with the DJ one last time about lowering the music and playing something really mellow . . . the event-planner equivalent of flashing the lights on and off. When I turn around again Selah has entered the space with the Riverton group. Behind them are the Ashton brothers. She is guiding Diego around the party, using the opportunity to introduce him to some of the celebrities, I’m sure in a bid to remind him how well-connected she is. I don’t want to watch her work the room any more than I want Brody to spot me, so I sneak out before they notice me. I swipe my jacket from the partition I’d hidden it behind, and slip out front to check in with security.