her desk. So, so many bills.
Okay. So maybe she was struggling a little financially, but she hadn’t chosen this career to get rich. And sure, she’d had to give up her tiny office and take in a roommate to help make ends meet, but that made her resourceful. And yes, she’d chosen to settle in one of the most expensive cities in the country, but she knew if she could make it here, she could make it anywhere.
So she focused on that.
She had a few other events coming up this month to handle, as well: a local ladies’ club holding a tea party to raise funds for a veterans’ memorial, a high school jamboree focused on building a new football field and an author event raising money for literacy.
She’d just lifted her cell phone to start those calls when it chimed in her hand.
Forever Families, the readout said. Mia’s biggest client to date, and her biggest challenge. Not in terms of her ability to handle things—she knew the organization so well, she could plan its events with her eyes closed—but because the director was incredibly determined to hire. And as appealing as regular hours, reliable paychecks and health care sounded, Mia was determined to make it on her own.
To prove that she could.
But Lorraine Perkins didn’t like to hear the word no.
The wife of one of the biggest real estate developers in the state of California, Lorraine was a social maven and one of the best-connected women Mia had ever met.
“Mia, darling, I’m just checking on the progress of our gala,” Lorraine said in those rounded tones only the wealthy seemed to pull off. “Not that I doubt for a second that you have it all well in hand.”
Of course she didn’t. Four phone calls a day was a sign of absolute faith. Mia silently waited for Lorraine to continue.
“As you know,” and she did know because Lorraine had insisted on mentioning it in each of those four daily calls, “if this weekend’s fund-raising goals are met, there’s a good chance that I’d put you in charge of our Winter Ball.”
The Winter Ball. Mia’s holy grail. A luxurious, complicated, multifaceted event spanning ten days, necessitating clever and innovative fund-raising techniques, savvy organizational skills, and, if rumor was true, the ability to juggle fire, water and ice all at the same time.
She knew this weekend’s event was the last in a series of what were essentially interviews testing her abilities. She knew, too, that Lorraine would rather handle the event in-house than bring in an outside coordinator.
But if Mia impressed her enough, she’d get the contract, she’d continue to freelance and she’d be able to bill herself as one of the top charitable-event coordinators in the country.
Best of all, she’d have done it all on her own.
“We’ll meet that goal,” Mia vowed. “Actually, things will be so amazing that I’ll bet we surpass it.”
“Oh, Mia, you’re such an optimist. But if anyone can do it, I’m starting to think you could.” Before Mia could revel in that compliment, Lorraine’s friendly tone turned pure business. “Now, you got my note about adding another fifty seats to the dinner, yes? Where are you at with that?”
“I’ve already spoken with catering and the location staff. The florist will add two more bouquets to the table,” Mia said, running her finger down her list as she recited check-marked items. “Because we’re losing square footage, the string trio will set up on the balcony just outside the ballroom.”
As she continued to recite her progress, she made a quick mental note to add extra space heaters to that balcony. Even though it was summer, evenings in San Francisco could get chilly.
“Perfect. It sounds as if you have a solid handle on it all. You’re one of the best planners in the Bay Area. And speaking of, I heard a rumor,” Lorraine said, her voice dropping with hushed excitement. “A wonderful, too-good-to-be-true rumor.”
“What’d you hear?” Mia scooted into a more comfy position in her chair and smiled, ready for some fun. She’d discovered the only thing the wealthy loved more than seeing their names written next to the word altruistic and the promise of tax deductions was gossip.
“It’s come to my attention that a certain young lady we both know and love has hidden connections.”
Oh, no. Mia cringed. Lorraine had been nagging her to convince her uncle to one of her events, claiming he’d be a huge draw. But before Mia could think of the right excuse, Lorraine continued in an giddy rush, “International real-estate connections, ones with very deep pockets.”
Mia frowned. It didn’t sound like Lorraine was describing Senator Penz. Thankfully the woman kept dropping those juicy hints.
“This connection is, as I hear it, very distinguished, cosmopolitan and charming. A man who rose above his juicy, scandalous family. In other words, just the kind of guest to add such a delicious panache to my ball.”
Ahhh.
Not her uncle. Mia was torn between relief and frustration as she realized whom Lorraine meant.
“Santiago Acosta?” Why was everyone bringing up Alcosta today? “I’m not sure he’d be available at such short notice. I do know a number of other people we could invite, though. Dignitaries, celebrities, even politicians.”
“No, no, no. It has to be Alcosta. Everybody has been talking about him at the club, but he’s not taking invitations. He even turned down the Grangers.”
He did? The Grangers counted a congressman, a US diplomat and a Tony winner among their numbers. They were a group high on Mia’s event-organizing wish list.
“But if I could put word out that Alcosta is attending the gala, attendance will go through the roof. And by attendance, I mean donations, of course.”
“Of course.” Mia blew out a breath. “Let me see what I can do.”
“I knew I could count on you, Mia. You are so efficient and dependable. Your association with influential people like Alcosta does carry a lot of weight in considering you for my biggest events,” Lorraine declared before saying goodbye.
Mia hung up with a sigh.
To pull off getting a man like Alcosta on board—to say nothing of getting the man’s business—meant doing something Mia abhorred. Something she’d vowed to avoid at all costs.
Using a friend.
Her family was big on offering help and opinions, and thanks to years of military service all over the world, it had tons of connections. All of which she’d availed herself of when she’d started out.
But her brother-in-law’s bookkeeper pal had garnered her penalties by forgetting to file quarterly taxes. Her sister’s BFF snuck a strip show into a simple fund-raiser for firefighters. And her parents’ start-up loan offer had come with so many strings, Mia would have owed them 50 percent of her profits, along with her firstborn, before she’d have been able to untangle the mess.
Half the setbacks and problems she’d had with her business were thanks to her family’s “help.” Which was just one of the reasons why Mia now insisted on doing it all on her own. She’d even refused her uncle’s offer to bring her onto his senatorial staff for a year so she could garner government creds, something that might have gone a long way toward making her job easier.
For Mia, asking for favors for charity was simple. But asking for personal ones was akin to being poked in the eye with a burning stick, since no personal favor came without a few sticky strings.
The trick was going to be asking Jessica for help without making it obvious that she needed it.
“Why the long face?”
Speak of the devil.
Jessica Alexander posed in the doorway. The petite, curvaceous blonde looked like a cross between a china