Page 73 of Single-Minded
I laugh bitterly to myself. I’m awfully cynical for a woman who’s only seriously dated two men in her entire life. Still, at this rate, two is enough. Count me out.
Taking a deep breath, I force myself to concentrate. Focus on the work. The work will save me. I review the plans for Boudreaux, finding very little to tweak. My week with Daniel had left me so exultant that the work is inspired. I finally feel that I’ve been able to capture the essence of who Daniel is for Boudreaux. Well, who I thought he was, at least. I can hardly wait to see it executed Saturday night. Boudreaux is going to be spectacular. Too bad I’m never going to set foot on that glorious boat again after tomorrow night.
Cliff Roles, society photographer, arrives about six, a half hour before guests are scheduled to arrive.
“Hello, darling,” he says in his charming English accent. “Gorgeous event tonight,” he says, kissing me on both cheeks.
“Hello, Cliff,” I say. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Wouldn’t miss it, darling,” he says.
As always, I ask him to snap some shots of the empty ballroom to include in my portfolio. The Wildlife Foundation benefit is a big event that will likely attract a lot of other society clients. It’s an important opportunity for me.
While he takes pictures, I swap my ballet flats for strappy heels, and stash my go-to bag and tote under a skirted table in the staff area.
Olivia arrives in the ballroom at six-ten, just as Cliff is finishing up his photos for me. They do the double-kiss cha-cha, and chat for a few moments. Cliff is completely in his element at the society shindigs. Everyone loves Cliff. And they pay homage if they have any hope at all of inclusion in the society pages. Cliff asks Olivia and me to pose together for a photo, which is surely a greater favor to me than to her. But I’m glad for it. Even if my eyes are half closed or my posture makes me look like a hunchback, that picture will be going up on my Web site. Now all I need is for all my hard work to create a 20 percent increase in donations. This part is always scary. Because even though I believe in the science, there’s always a risk when you tie your success to the behavior of other people. Humans are, by and large, manageable. But they can also be unruly, illogical, and often unpredictable. And quickly influenced by outside forces. Which is part of what makes my work so challenging. The very elements that help me to succeed can also easily and quickly precipitate my failure. It’s basically like herding squirrels. Or coaxing them to wear little top hats or purple sneakers. And then convincing them to hand over their hard-earned nuts.
Olivia’s staff, the orchestra, and the bartenders are in place at six-fifteen, and I make the rounds giving last-minute instructions. I tell the bartenders to pour generously, and remind the conductor to make sure he hits the selections on my playlist, chosen for their ability to evoke specific emotions, at the precise cues I’ve outlined.
The guests begin to filter in at six-thirty, and I watch them react as I’d hoped to the emotionally charged imagery of the great pandas. The early guests follow my traffic plan precisely, which thrills me. It’s the earliest guests who determine the traffic pattern for the rest of the evening—the guests who arrive after those first crucial few just follow along in their footsteps. Olivia’s team is on hand, and judging from the conversations taking place, the donor flash card drills are having their desired effect. Cliff is working the ballroom, snapping pictures of donors enjoying the open bar and the company of their well-heeled peers.
Everything is coming together perfectly. Even Olivia, for once, looks pleased. Her face, pulled tight from years of costly maintenance, has almost stretched into the makings of a smile.
And then, everything falls apart.
61
It’s Daniel.
He enters the ballroom, unfairly handsome in his tailored black suit. He moves with confidence and a little swagger, and it’s devastating to just stand there and watch him. He spots me a few seconds after I first see him and he makes a beeline for me, cutting through the tables.
This is not happening. Moving quickly toward the staff area in the back, I hope against hope that he won’t follow me. I’ve spent all day trying to block what happened at his place out of my head. I’m not ready to talk to him, and there is no way I’m discussing today’s humiliation in the middle of one of the biggest events of my career.
He makes better time than I do, unjustly so, because I’m tiptoeing along in high heels, and he’s unfairly blessed with longer legs and more practical shoes.
“Alex, I need to talk to you,” he says. His blue eyes are so earnest, and I have to focus very hard not to let myself get sucked under his spell.
“I’m working,” I hiss, still making my way back toward the staff area.
“Alex, please stop,” he pleads. “I just need to talk to you.” I spin around and motion for him to follow me behind the wall.
“What are you doing here?” I demand.
“I bought a table,” he says. “I knew this was your event and you weren’t taking my calls. I just needed to explain—”
“I’mworking,” I say more loudly. “This is my job. You can’t be here right now. I need to focus and you being here makes that impossible.”
“I’m so sorry,” he says, reaching out to touch my arm, “if you’ll just let me explain.”
I yank back my arm. “Don’t touch me,” I snarl. “You can say whatever you want to say to me tomorrow. Right now, I need you to leave. If you have any respect for me at all, if you care even a little bit about my feelings, you’ll go. I can’t deal with… this… tonight.”
His eyes fall downward. “I’m so sorry,cher,” he says quietly. “I’ll go. I didn’t want to upset you. I just wanted to… talk.”
“Thank you,” I say, letting out a sigh of relief as he turns to walk away.
“You look so beautiful tonight,” he says. And finally, after lingering too long, he walks away.
And while I’m mostly outraged that he would just show up here tonight, a small part of me is heartsick to see him leave. I hide out unseen behind the wall leading to the staff area and watch him go. To my surprise, he stops to speak with Olivia Kensington Vanderbilt for a minute or so before he exits. She embraces him warmly as though they’ve known each other for years. The man certainly does get around. My curiosity piqued, I wait until Daniel exits the main doors and then casually with a purpose make my way over to Olivia.
