Private Party (20 page)

Carla shot Chris a glare.

“You told her? Do you know how many times I’ve had my ass chewed by Dan the Dick over how important it is that no one finds out Jane is having her wedding here?” Dan the Dick was Carla’s pet name for Jane’s head of security. “I swear, if one press person shows up here, I’m going to kill you.” Julie jumped in before he could respond. “You have nothing to worry about.” She held up her hand for emphasis. “Believe me, I understand the need for discretion.” Carla nodded and sat back in her chair, blowing out an exasperated breath.

“To be honest, part of me is tempted to leak it to the press so she’ll cancel. She’s being a total pain in the ass about everything,” Carla said.

Before he could stop her, Julie picked up the invoice from the liquor distributor. Her brow furrowed adorably as she read it.

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“You know they’re overcharging you for these cases,” Julie said.

“I know,” Carla replied. “He quoted us at $350 a case but now he says since our quantity changed it’s going to be $375—”

Julie cut her off with a harsh laugh. “No, I mean, he’s really overcharging you. I’ve worked with these guys before, and I know they can give you a better rate.” Chris felt his hackles raise at the implication that he was too stupid to know when he was getting screwed. He knew what he was doing, damn it, and just because she spent her days flitting around the Winston’s sales office didn’t mean she had the first clue how to pull off an event like this.

“I think we have it taken care of,” he snapped. “Is there something you needed to talk to me about?” He pretended not to notice the wounded look she shot him. But it took all his self-restraint not to pull her into his lap and kiss her until she forgave him.

“I wanted to see if you wanted to have lunch,” Julie said, “but obviously it’s not a good time.” She turned to leave, but before she could, Carla asked, “So do you know someone at Kingsley’s?”

“I’ve worked with them when I worked at the D&D property in St. Bart’s,” Julie said. “I could call them for you if you like.”

“No—” Chris said.

“Why not,” Carla said with a shrug. “Here’s the number.”

“I already know it,” Julie said, perching on the side of Carla’s desk as she dialed.

Chris and Carla watched and listened in shock and admiration. In the sweetest, most polite conversation Chris had ever heard, Julie had managed to negotiate their liquor supplier’s price down another thirty percent.

“That was—” Carla started.

“Very impressive,” Chris finished.

“Thanks,” Julie said with a shrug. “Considering it’s what I do for a living, it’s nice to know that I’m good at my job.”

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“I thought—” Chris began, but Julie cut him off.

“I know exactly what you thought. You thought I was nothing more than a meaningless title, that because I was the boss’s daughter, I never bothered really working.” Julie took Chris’s silence as agreement. She didn’t know why it was such a surprise, or why it hurt so much, that he viewed her the same way as everyone else. Daddy’s spoiled little princess, whose job was nothing more than a title on an elegantly embossed business card.

Sure, she enjoyed a very nice lifestyle, courtesy of her parents’ wealth, but she also enjoyed her job as the special events director at the Winston, and worked her butt off to make sure the functions she planned surpassed their wildest expectation. Under her direction, the Winston had become
the
place in San Francisco to throw the swankiest of the swanky society parties.

She stifled the urge to list all of her accomplishments for him. She didn’t have to justify herself to him.

But it was a hard dose of reality, in the face of the idyllic week they’d spent together. While she was falling deeper in love by the second, he viewed her as a shallow, idle society girl. Not exactly a recipe for happily ever after.

Carla stared at Julie, a speculative look in her eye. “Chris, can I talk to you for a minute?” Carla stood and motioned him to the door.

Chris followed her out, leaving Julie to brood. Julie couldn’t make out any of their conversation, just muffled whispers outside the door. Stifling the urge to eavesdrop, Julie maintained her position on Carla’s desk.

After a few moments they returned, Carla looking eagerly self-satisfied, Chris looking distinctly uncomfortable.

“This is going to sound really unusual,” Carla said, hands clasped in front of her, “and I would never dream of asking you this if you weren’t such a close…” she paused and slanted a look at Chris, “
friend
of Chris’s.”

Julie propped herself against the edge of Carla’s desk and nodded for her to continue.

“He probably told you how our catering manager quit without notice about two weeks ago, and we’ve also lost some other staff—”

“Do you want my help with the wedding?” Julie cut in.

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“We would appreciate it more than you can imagine,” Carla said with a relieved smile.

Chris’s expression was as grim as Carla’s was pleased.

“I don’t know, Carla. No offense, Julie, but it’s one thing to make a phone call and use your name to get us a deal. It’s another to manage the details of an event of this magnitude.”

“Oh, really,” Julie said, disdain dripping from every word. “And just how many ‘events of this magnitude’ have you managed?” she asked, fully knowing the answer was a big fat zero. “Because just last year, I was the wedding coordinator for Whitney Taylor.” Even Chris, who had never paid attention to San Francisco society, recognized the name of the oil heiress. “A thousand people showed up, Chris. I think I can lend my hand to a wedding one-tenth of that size.” He didn’t look completely convinced. She knew exactly what he was thinking. That her idea of coordinating the wedding was limited to picking out flowers and suggesting lobster for the entrée.

Actions would have to speak louder than words. She relished the opportunity to prove him wrong, show him that there was more to her than met the eye.

“Fine,” she said, “I’ll make you a deal. Give me the rest of the afternoon to work with you. If I’m still just getting in the way and not adding any value, I’ll go home Saturday as planned.”

“Fine,” Chris said curtly and set her up on the opposite side of his desk.

Two hours later, Julie had completely reorganized their files and come up with four different menus to satisfy Jane Bowden’s incomprehensible preferences. Then she met with the chef and used every ounce of her adorable blond and blue-eyed charm to the point where he was only too happy to prepare all of the dishes for Jane Bowden to taste and approve once she arrived.

And to Carla’s shock and unending gratitude, Julie had spoken to Dan the Dick and convinced him—

with no shouting or cursing, to boot!—that there was really no reason to surround the island with yachts full of armored guards to keep the press at bay.

Finally, Chris pushed back from his desk, holding up his hands. “I concede. I’m sorry I underestimated you. If you’re still willing, I would love it if you would stay and help with the wedding.” She knew she was smirking, but she couldn’t help it. “I might be persuaded, depending on the offer.” He stretched his leg to brush hers under the desk. “I can offer great benefits,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Julie laughed, her earlier irritation fading under the force of his grin. Really, who could blame him for underestimating her? Even her own father had no idea how hard she worked, and he was her boss.

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“We really do need the help,” he said seriously. He folded his arms across his chest and slumped down in his desk chair.

“You don’t have to sound so glum about it,” Julie said.

“Think how you would feel, asking a guest who was paying a fortune to stay at a D&D resort for help at an event. It’s embarrassing, to say the least.”

Julie understood completely. She knew very well the pressure involved in attending to a guest’s every whim with seeming effortlessness. Allowing anyone to see just how much work it took would ruin the illusion.

“I’m not just any guest, I’m your—” she snapped her mouth closed. Whoa, she’d almost referred to herself as his girlfriend. Now wouldn’t that have sent him running for the hills. “I’m your friend,” she began again, “and I
do
have a lot of experience with this sort of thing.”

“You’ll of course be refunded for your entire vacation,” Carla said. She looked at a Chris for approval.

Carla moved over to her desk to look at her computer screen. Her brows drew down her forehead as she scrolled down the page.

“There’s only one problem…” She clicked her mouse again, shaking her head. “This is so embarrassing…” She looked up at Julie, her face pulled into a tight grimace. “With the wedding, we’ll be completely full as of this Saturday, including your villa. I know it’s an imposition, but we have plenty of rooms in the help quarters available, and I’m sure we can fix something up.”

“Julie will stay with me,” Chris interjected.

“With you?” Carla said, not bothering to hide her surprise. “But no one
ever
stays with you. Even that time we were totally full and your best friend was visiting, you made him bunk with
me—”
Julie felt her stomach clench hopefully. Maybe this was a sign, an indication that he wanted something more than just a fling. Maybe he actually had feelings for her that went beyond lust and friendship…

“Jesus, it’s not a big deal!” Chris said, plowing his fingers through his hair. He looked from Julie to Carla. Then, in a much quieter tone, he repeated, “It’s not a big deal.” Julie looked at her feet for several seconds, focusing on the bright pink of her toenails. If she blinked, the tears that were welling in her eyes would spill down her cheeks, and that would be beyond humiliating.

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She’d always been good at hiding her emotions, never giving into tears of frustration or anger in front of anyone. And she certainly wasn’t about to do it in front of Chris. So it was no big deal. Staying with him didn’t mean anything special, any more than sleeping with him did. Hadn’t she been telling herself that all along?

Julie spent the next two days working closely with Chris and Carla on the final arrangements for the wedding. Chris had insisted that she still have some fun, and made sure that she had plenty of pool and beach time with Amy, Jen, Kara, and Chrissy later that afternoon. They were leaving the following morning, and after that, Julie’s time would be completely filled helping Chris and Carla with final preparations for the wedding the following week.

Even with Chris’s insistence, she felt guilty taking the afternoon off. Part of her still chafed at Chris’s initial doubt. She’d always felt like she had to work harder and longer than everyone else to prove to the other employees that pure nepotism wasn’t the only thing that employed her. That pressure was multiplied now, and she wanted to prove to Chris how good she was at her job, that he could depend on her.

Still, it was good to get away from him for a few hours, clear her head and get a handle on emotions that were speeding out of control. This was a dangerous situation. While she had always liked him, enjoyed his friendship, the more time she spent with him, the more her admiration grew. She loved his intelligence, his keen business acumen, his ability to handle crises and continue to motivate an already overworked staff.

And she loved that he was beginning to trust her to do what she did best—managing the details and assuring that all parties involved in the event felt satisfied that everything was going to go off without a hitch. Already the mother of the bride had called Carla to compliment them on their new wedding coordinator.

“She’s fabulous,” Mrs. Bowden had gushed. “Of course, I knew you had it all well in hand,” she quickly qualified, “but it’s just so nice to know that Julie’s looking after us.”

“Quite an impression after just one phone call,” Chris had said with a warm smile.

Remembering the approval in his eyes still had the power to send a tingle down her spine. It was silly, really. She knew she was great at her job. She didn’t know why his admiration was so important, but it filled something inside her, knowing she was needed.

But her motives weren’t all motivated by generosity and the desire to help Chris. Staying here served her needs too. Or her cowardice, depending on how one looked at it. She knew she was simply avoiding reality, delaying the inevitable confrontation that would happen when she returned home. Not for the PrivateParty

first time, she wondered what she would do when she got there. Something had changed in her, and she didn’t think she simply could go back to life as usual.

It wasn’t just her romantic life that was no longer satisfactory. In the past few days, working with Chris, she couldn’t help thinking of her career, or lack thereof. Sure, she had a job, and she was lucky enough to be passionate about it. But boss’s daughter or not, she had to face the hard truth that she didn’t have much of a career path at D&D. Unlike Chris, who was willing to trust her instincts and really listen to her ideas, her father usually blew her off with a proverbial pat on the head.

Chris was right, in a way. In her father’s mind, her job was nothing more than a title on a business card.

A way to keep her occupied and under his thumb until she married, had children, and quit working to raise the next generation of society princes and princesses.

And even if her father did have plans for her to move up in the organization, she wasn’t sure she wanted that either. It would always be his company, his rules, his way.

Not to mention she would have to work with Brian, which didn’t even bear thinking about. She wished she was more like Chris and had the courage to leave the family behind and strike out on her own. But she’d spent the past twenty-six years always doing the right thing, fulfilling her duty to her parents and the business. She couldn’t just turn her back on all of her obligations.

She sighed, willing her jaw to unclench, reminding herself now was not the time for self-analysis. Now was the time to enjoy the heat of the sun on her skin, the soft Caribbean breeze in her hair, the salty scent of the sea. If only she could stay here, in paradise, forever.