Page 5 of The Wicked

I’d hoped to avoid talking about that tonight, but I couldn’t lie, could I? They’d find out the truth sooner or later. Probably sooner. Gossip travelled faster than a bullet in Baldwin’s Shore, and just lately, the bullets had been travelling pretty freaking quickly as well.

“I’m not organising the ball anymore.”

“It got cancelled?”

“No.” I took a deep breath and swallowed Paulo’s mojito. “No, I got fired.”

Puzzled looks.

“Fired? From your own company?” Brooke asked. “Is this a joke?”

“LKB Events belongs to Lillian and Kayleigh.”

When I graduated high school armed with a grand idea and a dream of working in the events industry, my résumé hadn’t been good enough to land a role at any reputable business—why did every entry-level position require a college degree and ten years of experience?—and I hadn’t had the connections or the funds to get a new venture off the ground alone. But my twin cousins had both of those things. While I’d spent my teenage years studying, they’d been partying, plus they’d received a reasonable-sized inheritance from their grandfather on their mom’s side. LKB was born. They liked my ideas, and I figured I could work for them for a couple of years and then use the knowledge I gained to get a better job.

But then Grandpa had thrown a wrench in the works, and staying with LKB had seemed like the best option at the time. The twins had promised we’d run the company as a three-way split, and in those days, I’d been young and—okay—naive enough to trust them. Blood was thicker than water, my uncle always said. But then they’d stabbed me in the back.

To be fair, I couldn’t have gotten LKB off the ground without Kayleigh and Lillian’s help—they’d provided the initial capital, and our first dozen bookings had come from their friends. But in the years that followed, they’d styled themselves as “brand ambassadors,” which basically meant they chatted to guests while I liaised with clients, booked venues, negotiated with staff and suppliers, created project plans, monitored finances, and dealt with any hiccups.

“Are you serious?” Addy asked. “But you do all the work? Why would they fire you?”

“We had some creative differences.”

“You mean you created, and they didn’t?”

A giggle escaped—that was the alcohol’s influence. “They have no idea how much effort goes into running an event.”

But they were about to find out. The masked ball at the Peninsula Resort was their baby now. They could either step up and do some work or drop the ball entirely—both literally and figuratively. I was the organised one. The first thing I did every morning was update my to-do list, and I never went anywhere without my trusty bullet journal.

“Will they close the company? Or try to run things themselves?” Brooke asked.

Who knew? Only time would tell.

“The next few events will go ahead with no problems—I already planned those down to the last trash pickup. The masked ball in two weeks’ time will be their first big challenge. I’d love to be a fly on the wall when Lillian realises she forgot to include a gluten-free option on the Banquet Event Order, or that the AV team doesn’t have enough power strips because Kayleigh has no idea those are supplied by us or the hotel and not by the contractor.”

Would they remember to hire additional valets for parking? That had been at the top of my to-do list for Monday morning. Brilliant Blooms was expecting final confirmation of the floral arrangements too—the client wanted a flower arch for photographs. Photographs… The photographer was another last-minute addition, and finding one had been another item on Monday’s list. The Peninsula did have its own small events team, but they were more used to organising corporate retreats than a potential clown show like Hadley Carpenter’s twenty-fifth birthday party. She wanted a ball, and since she was even more spoiled than my cousins, her daddy was paying for a ball.

Blue shrugged. “So go be a fly on the wall.”

“I can’t just walk in there.”

“Why not? All the guests will be wearing masks, won’t they?”

“Well, I don’t have an invite.”

“From what you’ve said, nobody’s gonna be checking those anyway.”

Was it possible? No, no, of course I couldn’t go.

“I don’t have anything to wear.”

My wardrobe was elegant only in its simplicity. If I bought ten pairs of black pants and ten white shirts, I didn’t need to worry about what to put on in the mornings, plus it gave me the added advantage of being mistaken for a server. Nobody ever gave them a second glance. Evening wear meant leggings, cute T-shirts, and sweaters chosen for warmth rather than style.

Paulo slung an arm around my shoulders. “Sweet cheeks, you think we can’t fix you up with an outfit in two weeks? What do you need? A ballgown? A Venetian mask?”

“Uh, maybe? It’s not a masquerade ball as such, more of a costume party. Anything goes, as long as you’re wearing a mask. I heard a bunch of the men are planning to dress up as superheroes.”

Kayleigh and Lillian were planning to wear Mardi Gras outfits. They’d already bought matching ruffled corset dresses, spike heels, and jewelled masks, plus decided on a colour scheme for their make-up. Their hair, spray tan, and nail appointments were booked, and a driver would take them to the hotel so they could both indulge their love of cocktails. As far as I was aware, they’d given zero thought to the actual event arrangements, even though I’d copied them in on all the emails discussing the logistics and sent them a draft checklist.

---