you're so freaking precious when you smile :)

feeling accomplished with what i've done for dakota and lillian's wedding, i walk into work monday morning coffee in hand and a smile on my face.

today i will either have my value to this company validated or i will be free from ever having to see vivian or get up at five in the morning ever again. so either way it's a win.

"good morning." i smile obnoxiously bright at vivian as i set her coffee down on her desk.

she gives me a glare, "mr. ward wants to see you in his office."

"wonderful." i grin, closing the door before walking down the hall to his office, knocking on the wood. entering the room, i find him standing by the filing cabinets, flipping through the newly organized files. i figured a new system that's better than simple alphabetical. it's organized alphabetically, by company, and by valued clients. i don't know how i found the time to do it in the midst of all those stupid comparison sheets but i did and here we are.

"good morning." i speak with a smile, setting his coffee in its usual spot. this time i chose a pumpkin spice latte because i'm feeling extra salty and the thought of the ceo of a multi million dollar company drinking the most basic beverage of the season made me feel a little bit of satisfaction.

he turns towards my voice, shutting the file and placing it back in its place. "miss harris." my brow raises when he actually greets me.

"vivian said you wanted to see me?" i say, folding my hands in front of me, doing my best not to feel nervous.

the young man looks at me with almost a thoughtful expression, "when did you find the time to reorganize these?" he points to the cabinets.

my brows furrow, confusion washing over my mind. "last week when i wrote up those comparisons, sir."

"so you finished those comparisons by friday?" his brows raise, his face straight and unreadable.

"yes." i reply, feeling unsure of where this conversation is going.

"as well as doing the finishing details for the gala?" he continues to question me, leaning against his desk, facing me as i stand by the door, ready to sprint down the hall and cry if i'm let go.

"yes." i answer again, "forgive me but why are you asking me these questions? it's my job to do this stuff, right?"

mr. ward regards me with another thoughtful expression, his chocolate brown eyes swirling with a mindful gaze. "do you know why the assistants before you were fired?" he suddenly inquires.

i pause before replying, "no, i don't."

his jaw sets before he stands up straight, his hands going into his pants pockets, the front of his suit jacket opening with them. "they failed to rise to the challenge." he tells me firmly, meeting my gaze, "they lacked tenacity and gumption. they broke under pressure. tell me something, did you find it difficult to plan this gala? be honest with me, miss harris." he nods once, egging me to speak.

i begin to feel uncomfortable. is he complimenting me or insulting me because i really can't tell. "i suppose not. i enjoyed it because i had the experience to handle it." i confess.

he nods again, "and what about the filing? was that difficult for you?"

i think for a second before responding, "it was difficult at times if i'm being honest, sir."

"but you did it nonetheless."

"what are you saying?" i start to get tired of these vague questions.

he looks down at his shoes, thinking as he jaw tenses, before looking back up. "i'm saying that miss lark believes you to be a difficult and stubborn employee with too many opinions and she would like for me to let you go." there it is.

i chew the inside of my cheek, "what does that have to do with what you were saying?"

he sighs, "i'm just trying to understand why she's saying these things. there must be a reason and i personally have not seen any proof of them." my cheeks redden as i realize this is a blatant compliment coming from my boss. i admit that to work hard and for it to be acknowledged by good employer is a great feeling. yet i'm almost uncomfortable with him saying this considering he's usually a very quiet and daunting man.

"thank you, sir."

"i don't need you to thank me." he shrugs, "i'm simply stating what i've observed. vivian has very...strong opinions. opinions of which i don't always agree with or share. this is an opinion i do not share with her. you may stay and continue working on the gala. i am handing that project over to you and you may do with it what you please." he finishes, walking around his desk and taking a seat as if the conversation is over.

i stand there, baffled. i've worked here for an extremely short amount of time and now he's suddenly handing me this opportunity? this makes me feel oddly suspicious.

"what's the catch?" i ask boldly, crossing my arms over my chest.

he looks up from his seat, a small hint of surprise hidden in his face. "are you implying that i'm only giving you this opportunity because there's some sort of ulterior motive?"

"maybe not a motive but possibly another challenge." i speak.

mr. ward ticks his jaw before setting down the pen he was holding and leaning back in his chair, "in this company, working here is always a challenge in itself. i like to challenge my employees; it builds character and shows loyalty. since you have already overcome such things then i hardly think it necessary to concern yourself in wondering whether another one may come about. you should do just fine. now you may go." he tells me firmly.

i stand there for just a moment longer, feeling slightly dazed. was i just promoted? do i no longer have to listen to vivian at all or just with this? i have so many questions but i can tell he's declared the conversation over.

turning on my heel, i leave the room, staring ahead blankly. planning this and getting all the credit for it will be a huge opportunity for me career wise. have i even earned it?

well, if i haven't, then i can do my best to do so starting now.

☆☆☆

ever since the meeting i had with the ceo, there's been a countdown of sorts in my head. four days from today is the gala and six days until the wedding. i can do this.

"are you symphony?" an older man holding one of the greek statues i chose for the mini art gallery i'm setting up for the guests. a local museum was kind enough to agree to giving copies and replicas to sponsor the event and give exposure to the museum itself.

"yes, that's me." i smile, holding my clipboard to my chest with every single detail i need in its contents.

"where do you want us to set up?" he asks me with a grunt.

"follow me." i nod, turning and walking to the front right hand corner of the ballroom just below the stage where the orchestra will be playing, "i want everything set up here in this area so the music is prominent while people enjoy the pieces."

"sure." he agrees, signaling to the rest of the men with him and pointing them all in the same direction.

"could you move that just a little bit to the left?" i ask one of the men who gives me an annoyance glare before doing as i say reluctantly.

it's not always fun feeling like a bossy overlord and telling all of these grown adults, who are very much older than me, what to do. at first i had a hard time saying no or asking for something to be changed but then i realized that the ceo of this company isn't even thirty years old yet and he tells men in their sixties what to do. that made it a little easier.

setting up for the gala has been my favorite part of planning this entire thing. i feel like i'm ten again playing with a doll house and getting to place everything where i please. i've chosen every single thing about this party down to the lighting. i've approved music, tasted foods, chosen dishes, set up tables, ironed table cloths, made sure the floors have been waxed, etc. the list goes on for miles. i can't wait for wednesday morning when all of the flower arrangements i've chosen get loaded in here and the smell of fresh flowers fills the space.

hours pass as i hustle and bustle around, pointing people in the right direction and setting up the tables in the room the clients will be dining. they don't look quite finished without the flowers but, under the golden light of the beautiful space, the cream tablecloths and dishes with the gold hand painted detailing look absolutely stunning. everything down to the last salad fork was hand picked by me and it's so wild to see it all fit together just like it did in my head.

it's dark outside when i'm finished stringing lights around the banisters which lead upstairs to quiet sitting rooms, restrooms, etc. i plug them in, testing how they look. the room lights up with each and every tiny light bulb. a smile spreads over my face as i look around, everything looking perfectly in place. i still have a lot to add before it's finished but it's coming along and i love to see the progress. unplugging the lights, i grab my bag and my coat and head out the door, my heals hitting lightly against the marble floors and echoing off of the walls and high ceiling. everyone has already left besides a few electricians working on replacing a few lightbulbs so the space is almost eerily quiet.

pushing the door open, i'm greeted with the bitter cold of the autumn night. i carefully step out into the street, shivering as i pull my coat on and wrap myself in its protective barrier between me and the wind. as i walk to my car, which is parked over one block away, i think about lillian's wedding and how beautiful everything will be. i silently pray that i pull it off and can make her small wedding dreams happen.

my teeth are chattering and my hands are almost numb by the time i get to my car, my fingers fumbling with the keys. just as it unlocks, i look up, my brows furrowing when i see a small flash of light in the city graveyard across the way. the patch of land is hidden behind tall shrubs as if city hall wanted to hide to dead from from the people on the streets to keep it light hearted but just through the entrance i can see a white light. almost as if it's a flashlight from a cell phone.

i squint at the vehicle parked in front of the entrance, feeling a wave of surprise to see the familiar audi stopped along the curb, the owner nowhere near it. once again i study the small light that seems to be moving further and further away until it suddenly stops and shuts off.

i check my watch. what is mr. ward doing here at six in the evening? is this where he goes during the afternoons? i begin to feel too nosy even for myself. if the ceo wants to visit with someone he used to know or was dear to him then it feels wrong to pry.

so, with that thought, i put it out of my mind and
get in the car, driving away with curiosity on the back burner of my thoughts and keeping wedding plans and gala details on the forefront.

☆★☆

if you have read "trapped in" then i'm pretty sure you can guess what jared is doing at the graveyard.

if you haven't read "trapped in" then i'm sure you won't be surprised.