Page 131 of Sassy Love
“The Met has donated the space. The catering has been funded, and the remaining service providers were within budget.” I hold her gaze.
“Oh, wow. I didn’t realize you had connections to the Met. Color me impressed.” Serelle’s hands slap the desk with enthusiasm.
My body sags with relief, but I try not to let it show.
Lawson glances at me with a smile. “Actually, it was a team effort. My sister worked in events before she decided to stay in Montana. She’s been helping plan.”
“Oh, well, that’s wonderful. Let’s hope we can raise the funds to keep you both on board for the next year.” She slaps her armchair and leans into the desk. “Funding has always been an issue. I’m glad you found a creative solution for this. But I’m not surprised. I hired you both with this potential in mind, and you’ve proven me right. I won’t keep you from your work.” She nods, dismissing us.
I rise and walk from her office.
She’s proud of us.
And we’re lying to her.
In multiple ways.
Withholding the real financial situation of Serenity House. Plus the fact that Lawson and I are...
What exactly are we?
As I make it back to the fish tank, I’m in a trance of disbelief when I drop into my chair. I face-plant into my hands and groan.
We are so fucked.
If this doesn’t work out, we are royally fucked.
I will be a princess standing in ruins. Who knows if my cowboy will still be by my side if this all goes sideways.
Itry—and fail—to hold my composure astheAnna freaking Winston waits for me at the entrance to the Met. Life goals officially accomplished. I can die happy now.
Last night’s snowfall litters the ground, and I hug my coat closer with one hand as the wind decides to pick up.
Mills tugs at my arm, which hers is looped through. I was so starstruck, I forgot I invited her to come along this morning. Someone has to keep me grounded. Besides, she put up a convincing argument.
Apparently, she’s old, and to deny her the chance to meet a woman like Anna Winston would be the cruelest of sins.
“She’s so elegant, look at her.” Millie nods, excitement lighting her sweet face as she wobbles her way up the steps. I hold her steady, calculating each stride I take to keep her safe.
We ascend the steps to the museum, and Anna’s face breaks into a smile. “Carlie, lovely to meet you.” She extends one fine, manicured hand, and I shake it. My mouth moves, but I can’t form a coherent word to save myself.
“Hello,” she says to Millie. “I’m Anna. Come on in. Let’s make a start on curating a space for your gala, shall we?”
Millie’s mouth actually gapes, and now I feel less stupid for not uttering a word in the presence of one of my lifelong idols.
“Say something,” Mills hisses at me.
Like what? Shit, I missed my window. We walk behind Anna as she leads us into a large open foyer. The biggest Christmas tree I’ve ever seen stands on the central platform, strangled by lights and decorations. An oversized star illuminates its top.
Still following Anna, albeit a little slower as I look around in awe, we pass under archways lined with festive garlands and through double doors into a grandiose room.
I’ve been to the Met before but never during the holiday season.
It’s stunning. It’s breathtaking.
Millie and I cross the threshold into the event space. Inside is spectacular, with a high ceiling, large floor space, and steps flanking the entire far end of the room with a stage.
“Oh wow, this will be perfect,” I say, and Anna turns back.
