Page 13 of Party Favors

Adrian came back into the conference room, and my stomach fluttered in response. Had he returned to congratulate me? He was beaming, and I took that as a very good sign.

But he didn’t have any words of praise for me. “Everly, I need you to call some jewelry stores for me. I’ve decided that I’m going to propose to Colette, and you have to find the perfect ring. We’re leaving tonight so that I can meet her family in Paris. I need you to buy tickets for us—I’m planning on being there for two weeks. You can arrange to have the ring sent over to me later. I’ll be sure to text you the address. Let Claudia know, will you?”

He was getting engaged?

CHAPTER FIVE

After Adrian’s announcement, I had a strange mixture of emotions. I was happy for him and Colette, but disappointed that I’d never get a chance to go out on a date with him to see if there could be anything between us. Excited that my pitch had worked, worried that Adrian might not react well to it. Unaware of my inner turmoil, my colleagues congratulated me and offered help if I needed it.

They were excited because this event was unlike anything else that we had ever done. To be honest, corporate events were boring. There was very little opportunity to put our own spin or design on it. Typically there was a seminar/conference with speakers and we provided snacks and swag. That was it. There were no decorations other than a banner or a backdrop, or basics like a podium and an AV system. Everything had to be professional.

Translation—sterile and boring.

But a rich teenager’s birthday party? That could be a lot of fun.

I had lunch with Vella again and found myself distracted. I shouldn’t have been surprised that Adrian was getting engaged. It made sense. He and Colette had been dating for a long time, and she was a great person. Marriage was the next logical step. Of course he wanted to marry Colette, and of course she would want to marry Adrian. I completely understood it.

It still made me a bit sad.

“Earth to Everly!” Vella said, waving her hand in front of my face. “You’re not still moping about that lump of clay getting engaged, are you?”

“Lump of clay?” I repeated. “What does that mean?”

“That is a man not yet fully formed. He needs a lot of molding and spending time in a kiln before he’ll actually be relationship material. I don’t envy that French chick.”

That was the problem—I did envy Colette. Being jealous of someone while still liking them as a person was a very confusing problem to have.

I wanted to change the subject. “So I now have to design and plan a luxury birthday party based on a culture I know next to nothing about. I should have pitched something British themed.”

“What do you know about British culture?”

My mind went blank. “Uh,Doctor Who, those guards with the big hats, and the royal family.”

Vella made a scoffing sound. “Americans caring about British royals is like asking Protestants to be super invested in the pope. I wouldn’t have allowed that theme. No culture who calls cookies ‘biscuits’ should be a theme of anything.”

I laughed, knowing she was teasing me because she knew how much I loved all royal families worldwide. “Seriously, though, I am going to have to study Monterran culture.”

“Good thing we have the internet.”

“No, I need to experience it. I’ve always been more of an auditory and tactile learner. I do better having someone explain things to me, or physically doing stuff myself.”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “And how are you planning on experiencing Monterra? Are you going to fly there?”

Ha. Even if I put all six of my credit cards together, I still wouldn’t have enough money to buy a ticket to Monterra. “I wish, but that won’t happen. My lack of knowledge is concerning, though. I don’t even know how they celebrate birthdays.”

Vella picked up her phone, typed something, and then studied her screen for a bit. “I looked it up. Monterrans celebrate birthdays with a birthday cake and by singing ‘Happy Birthday to You’ in Italian. The party is planned. You’re welcome.”

Our lunch came out—she had ordered a salad, while I’d gotten the hamburger and fries. She gave my food a wistful look and sighed.

“I get your jealousy,” I told her, while pointing at her food. “That looks like the lunch of someone whose doctor told them they would die if they didn’t make major changes to their eating habits.”

She grumbled in response but ate her slightly wilted lettuce. “I can’t eat things that used to be alive.”

“Lettuce and tomatoes used to be alive.”

If Vella rolled her eyes any harder, she was going to spin the earth off its axis. “You know what I mean. I’ve watched too many YouTube videos. I can’t eat meat. Even if it does smell really delicious.”

Her phone buzzed and she checked it. “Why am I getting messages from your office manager to contribute money for birthday cupcakes? I don’t even know who Dan from Accounting is.” Her eyes widened. “They want me to pitch in one hundred dollars? For cupcakes?”

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