Page 33 of Not Safe For Work

Andie Oh:

Well I imagine looking like that you’ll have a date by the end of the night anyway ;)

I’m heading back tonight so let me know if you get bored and wanna bail

Tonight’s event is at the Fairmont Hotel, one of my favorite venues. I have to Uber there since it’s at the top of Nob Hill. Also, these heels could take me about two blocks max.

As soon as I enter the main ballroom I find Deacon, who looks calm as a cucumber as he bosses around multiple event coordinators. For some reason I’m the only one in my family who isn’t perfectly comfortable in their own skin.

“Hey, Deac. Where can I help?”

“Ollie!” He wraps me in a bear hug before squeezing my shoulders and inspecting my outfit. “Good to see you, Sis. You look great.”

“Thanks.”

“No idea where Mom and Dad are. Owen and Phil are still unloading the truck, but they’ll be dealing with the auction all night. Guests are starting to arrive so why don’t you hang by the entrance and help greet, show people how to find their tables. You know the drill.”

My family, along with Sonoma County Animal Rescue started Pawsability when I was in elementary school. And this will be our fifth wine auction gala in support of the cause. I definitely “know the drill.” But it’ll also be the first time I give the welcome speech.

I perform my duty as greeter while I run through the order of events tonight in my head. We start with a cocktail reception, though I’m not sure why we insist on calling it that when we’re serving 90 percent wine. Then I’ll give my welcome speech as dinner starts, followed by a video that will be sure to leave zero dry eyes in the audience. The band will start playing during dessert and the silent auction—after my announcement—will end promptly at ten.

“What are we serving tonight?” I ask the bartender, anxious to sip my liquid courage.

“We have a few options,” he replies, presenting a laminated drink list. My parents really pulled out all the stops for this one.

We specialize in pinot noir and have around seven different wines from the grape each harvest. Though I do see we’re notserving my favorite. The Vega isn’t our bestseller, but that would be impossible considering its price tag and batch size. It comes from the smallest block in our vineyard and produces the richest pinot I’ve ever tasted.

But tonight, the selections are three of our more moderately priced pinots—Orion, Polaris and Rigel—along with our rosé and the Capella chardonnay that isn’t nearly buttery enough for my liking. I always wonder if people find the names of our wines to be strange. My family really leaned into the Diamond Sky name.

“I’ll do the Lyra, please,” I say excitedly. I take a healthy sip of my favorite rosé and scan the room for Deacon again. I figure if I stay by his side there’s no way I’ll miss my cue to start the speech.

“There you are,” Deacon says, finding me first. “There’s someone I want you to meet. One of our newest donors.”

He guides me through the maze of the crowd as my senses are attacked by heavy-handed perfume and cologne. And finally we reach a table filled with a group of extremely attractive people and one of the cutest dogs I’ve ever seen.

That’s my favorite part of these galas. There are always at least a few dogs in attendance.

“Hello, my fluffy boy,” I say, kneeling as low as I can in this dress. “Is it okay if I pet him?” I ask the blonde holding his leash.

“Of course.” She smiles back at me, and I wonder if I’ve met her before. She looks familiar but in that super distant way that makes it impossible to know why.

“Aren’t you just the sweetest?” I continue with the dog as he gives my fingers a lick. He’s gray and white with the softest fluff that makes him look like a toy I had as a kid. “What’s your name, pal?”

“This is Rowan,” the woman continues.

“Ollie, stand up,” Deacon orders, using his infamous brotherly whisper-yell. “Remember I wanted to introduce youto the new donors?” I grab his hand for balance since my shoes aren’t really intended for deep squats. Once I’m standing, he turns back to the guests. “This is my sister, Olivia. Olivia, I’d like you to meet Lucy and Henry Turner.”

“It’s Gold, actually, “Lucy says with a shy smile. “I kept my last name.” She does a little shrug and shoots a conspiratorial grin to the man next to her. Henry, I presume.

I shake both of their hands, but Henry never says a word, and then I realize where I know her.

“You’re Lucy Gold? Like,Beautiful Beasts, Lucy Gold?” My voice pitches a little higher than intended, but I can’t help myself.

“Ollie!” Deacon scolds at my less than gala-level behavior.

“Guilty,” Lucy chirps.

Ignoring Deacon, I refuse not to enjoy my fan-girl moment. “I stayed up until like, four in the morning reading that. It was amazing. I’ve read all your books, actually.”

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