Page 50 of The Boss and the Wedding Mess
“For…?”
“Three songs, maybe thirty minutes on stage. Then she leaves.”
“Wow. I’d say book her privately some other time. He is a fan, but it would pull too much focus from the party.”
“Yes, that’s my concern too. The comedian’s already a big name, but at least everyone will enjoy him.”
“What about décor or food?”
“That stays as is. But I had a photo book printed with the best company pictures. A photographer’s been here the last two days, shooting the offices, the parking lot, his office during a break…”
“That’s really nice,” Alex says.
“The photo book will be ready tomorrow; I can pick it up after work.” I sigh softly. “If I’d had more time, I could’ve done more.Pulling this together in three days was exhausting. Then all the drama with you. God, I’m worn out.” But happy. I smile. “You’ll like the summer party.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
“Okay, then I’ll get back to work. I'm far from done. If you need me, just call.” I hurry out of his office back to my desk. Time to focus. The faster I work, the better the odds I’ll finish on time.
It works out reasonably well, at least. I stretch and glance at the clock. Only seventeen minutes overtime. Not bad.
I head back to my boss, who’s with Alexander in his office. As always, I ask if they need anything else, but they say no. So, I leave—this time without eavesdropping.
Thursday is packed, so I eat lunch at my desk.
On Friday morning, the phones don’t stop ringing. Just after 1:00, I finally shut down the computer and get ready for the party.
We’ve all earned this. Even though it doesn’t officially start until 3:00, plenty of people will already be there enjoying themselves.
“Do you want to drive there together?” Alexander asks, appearing at my desk.
“Your father’s being driven there in a limo. I’ll leave my car here for now. You’ll ride with us, right?”
“Perfect. Now we just need to get him out of his office. He really doesn’t want to leave.”
“I think I know why.” I sigh and step closer. “He’s probably saying goodbye to his office. He spent most of his working life there.” But I wouldn’t be the best PA if I hadn’t prepared. “She’s running a bit late, but she should be here any minute.”
“She? Who?”
“Your mother.” Alexander raises his eyebrows.
“My mother’s coming?”
“Yes, she usually accompanies him to public events, and she especially wanted to come today.”
“Do you two get along?”
“Yeah. Martha likes me.” I grin, maybe bragging a little.
“Martha. My mother—Martha Blackthorn.”
“Yes. Blonde bob, loves wearing white, bold gold earrings.” I point down the hall, where she’s already in view.
“Yoo-hoo!” calls Mrs. Blackthorn, beaming at me, which leaves Alexander speechless.
As she walks right toward me, he leans over and mutters, “My mother doesn’t like anyone. Especially not young women.”
“Then I must be the exception,” I say cheerfully, opening my arms just before she pulls me into a tight hug and kisses me on both cheeks.
