Page 64 of Billion Dollar Dispute

After a while, a firm knock sounds at the door. Startled, I look up and breathe a sigh of relief as I see Harvey standing there.

“Hey,” I greet him with a small grin.

“Morning,” he replies, a concerned look crossing his face as he furrows his brow. “Are you okay?”

As he walks in, I shake my head slightly, feeling the weight of my worries. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“This sounds serious,” he says, his tone shifting to match his expression.

I try to muster a light-hearted response, but can’t manage it. “As much as I want to joke around, it’s serious.”

He pulls out the chair opposite me and sits down, his eyes steady and patient.

“Danny left me this note,” I explain, my voice a bit unsteady as I hand the note over to him. Our hands touch, sending electricity up my arm, but I ignore it. Yet, before letting go, I notice his jaw tighten, and his grip on the paper becomes visibly firm.

“How do you feel about it?” he asks, his voice low and controlled, his eyes searching mine.

“Confused,” I admit. “I’ve tried calling and texting him, but he hasn’t called me back.”

“I get it, it's hard to have personal connections to your employees.”

“Yeah,” I murmur, scratching my head as I think. “But now I have to handle his workload on top of everything else.”

“Focus on finishing the financials first.” I keep my voice steady, controlled. “Once you’re done with that, you can worry about his work.”

“But I need to follow up on his leads,” I protest. The pressure of not following up on bookings or securing new work weighs on me.

“I’ll take care of that,” he offers. “I’ve already finished my tasks anyway.”

“Show-off.” I snort, though a smile tugs at my lips.

“Hardly,” he responds, with a casual air, crossing one ankle over his knee. The movement draws my attention to his outfit, a sharp navy suit that fits him perfectly. I quickly drop my gaze to my desk, embarrassed by my brief distraction.

“You took the hardest task and gave us the easiest ones,” he says softly. He’s right, and I can’t help but chuckle.

“Guilty,” I confess, the laughter fading but leaving me lighter than I’ve felt all morning.

“I can’t decide whether you deserve a punishment or a reward for that,” he says, a playful rasp in his voice, his eyes dark and fiery.

My heart skips a beat as I meet his blistering gaze with my own, swallowing roughly. “Definitely a reward.”

As I walk the steps to the gallery, dressed in my black sweats and sneakers, I feel a rush of excitement and nerves. I knew formal wear wouldn’t be practical. I carry my bags up to the door and text Oliver to let him know I’m outside. We had agreed that I’d arrive fifteen minutes before the deliveries to ensure everything else was in order.

Oliver opens the door and greets me with a calm, collected smile. “Hey, Jem.”

“Hi, are you all set?” I ask, trying to hide my nervousness. I can’t help but notice his crisp black suit and bow tie, his normally unruly brown hair now slicked back. He appears unfazed. But I guess, this is his world. Unlike me, I'm still finding my footing with Recaredo Events. This is my first big official event since I took over the business.

“I hope you’ve got your outfit in that bag, because I thought you were joining the party after the setup.”

“Yeah, I just wanted to be comfortable while I ran around.” I smile, stepping inside.

The gallery is quiet, except for soft background music that leaves an air of sophistication.

I begin instructing the deliveries, and before long, I’m finished. Walking outside, I check the set-up for the final time. It’s a modern space with soft warm lighting, valet parking, and a red carpet leading to the entrance, lined with beautiful floral arrangements and sculptures. Inside, neatly dressed attendants hold trays of champagne, setting the tone for the evening. I shift a few lights to better highlight some pieces and make sure there’s enough space for guests to appreciate the art. Each piece has a plaque detailing the artist’s background.

There is a live artist setting up in the corner, adding to the intimate experience, with lighting that highlights the area without overwhelming it. The live jazz band is already set up and warming up. There’s a DJ for later, which was Oliver’s request to keep the energy up for those who wish to dance long into the night.

The black-tie theme is tied into every detail, including beautifully packaged gift bags containing handmade art pieces and small prints. Molly put together all the goodie bags, including tying ribbon and handwriting every tag. I start setting them up, ensuring each one is perfect. After checking on the catering staff and servers, I give them a rundown of the schedule and expectations.

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