“Yeah, that’s going to take me some getting used to,” she muttered.
“It’ll come in time. Good luck.”
Lizzie nodded, grabbed the paper from him, stuffed the sheet into the binder and walked out the door.
* * * * *
Mark sat at the desk, staring at the numbers before him, his eyes nearly crossing from re-reading the same information for the last twenty minutes without any knowledge being absorbed. She’d been gone for longer than an hour. Was everything okay? Did she need help?
The door opened and Lizzie walked through, her cell phone against her ear and shoulder as she shut the door behind her.
“Nope, we can handle it. Thanks and we’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow. Great. Bye.” Lizzie told the caller.
She walked behind the desk and sank into her office chair. Mark watched her out of the corner of his eye. Sharing an office was far more awkward then he’d imagined. Someone must have considered the etiquette of such a situation, he’d need to search on the internet. Did they have to constantly acknowledge each other’s presence?
Sitting close to her distracted him. Watching her hands fly across the keyboard, listening to her whisper under her breath. Focusing on his own work so near to her would be impossible without his music. But would he be rude to wear ear buds? She began typing and muttering under her breath and then stopped and turned towards him.
“Hey, thanks,” she began. “You were right about the prices. They didn’t balk at all. I’m just emailing development to update the website. I don’t have time to do a complete overhaul, but at least this can be updated.”
“Great,” Mark nodded. “Glad I could help.”
“Do you mind if I put in ear buds for a while? I need to start focusing on what I have to get done today.”
“Go ahead,” he agreed. “I’m going to head out for lunch so you don’t even have to worry about the ear buds for a while.”
“Oh, that’d be great. Thanks.”
Mark got up from his desk and walked across the room. He paused at the door and turned to offer a half-wave. He’d thought she’d looked almost pained when she’d left earlier, but now he understood her expression. It was a terribly formal thing between them as they adapted to the situation.
Looking up at him, she offered him a tight, unseeing smile. Her eyes never connected with his and her fingers didn’t stop. She’s busy. So am I. But why am I disappointed?
Watching her turn back to work, he stepped through the door to the fresh air. The sweet smell of wisteria filled the air, releasing its perfume in the sunshine. He walked to the parking lot, hopped in his car, and drove to the venue for the event. He wanted to walk the event space himself. He knew the resort so well but besides using the beach, he wasn’t too familiar with the other facilities. The convention center had been built only a few years earlier and offered modern amenities in a large facility at the edge of the ocean.
He parked north of the facility in the public lot and got out to stroll along the beach. Everything would be set up on the beach and as far as he could tell there would be plenty of room. He needed another set of eyes. He needed another set of opinions. He needed Lizzie. She’d probably have a lot of insight that he didn’t.
Catering didn’t have crises or disasters the way event coordinators did in general. They didn’t have much room or need for improvisation. They showed up, cooked and served the food, cleaned up their work-station, and sent the bill. The bill was based on the contract and once that had been agreed on it couldn’t be negotiated further. If only ninety people showed up but they agreed to serve one hundred, the client still paid for one hundred. Thinking on his feet wasn’t something Mark was called on to do much. But he knew Lizzie had to, the bride who’d stumbled upon him had demonstrated as much. He’d bring her back next week, he decided, after her week calmed down.
Mark got back in his car, drove through the Dairy Queen drive-thru, and ate as he made his way back to the office. The time on the dashboard surprised him. It was already three thirty. He’d been so busy waiting on Lizzie to get back, he hadn’t realized how quickly the day had gone. He parked his car and walked back to the cottage. His steps slowed as he approached. Had he heard the faint chorus of a Cary Brothers song? Mark put his hand on the knob and pressed his ear against the door. Sure enough, Under Control was playing on the other side of the door. He turned the knob and pushed open the door.
“Is this…your playlist? Is this coming from your computer?” he bellowed over the loud music.
Lizzie jumped in her chair and turned the volume down.
“Who else?” she asked.
“You listen to decent music.”
“Don’t sound so shocked,” she rolled her eyes and shot him a look.
Is that a smile? The corner of her mouth raised up in a half-smile. Pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes, he thought she might be trying to decide between amusement and offense.
“It’s hard not to be,” Mark muttered as he closed the door behind him and walked to his desk. “I’d assumed you’d be listening to something like…”
“Like what?” Lizzie asked, stretching out the words.
Turning her chair to face him fully, she crossed her legs and crossed her arms. But the twinkle in her eye betrayed her. She can laugh at herself. I like that.
“More bubble gum and girl power.”
“Are you trying to compliment me or offend me?”
Mark had no response. He didn’t know either. I like teasing you. I’m trying to get your eyes to sparkle and your mouth to pucker.
“I like alternative rock,” she interrupted his thoughts. “And songwriters and new wave. I especially love any combination of the three.”
“I love alternative too. I guess we don’t need ear buds. I’ve got some music I think you’d like.”
“Sure.” She relaxed, dropping her arms and shrugging. “I’m going to head out for lunch, I didn’t eat earlier. You’ll probably be gone before I get back, I didn’t realize how late it is. Just leave the lights on. I have a lot to do tonight.”
“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow then I guess.”
She nodded, got out from her chair and the desk, and walked out the door.
* * * * *
Lizzie walked across the lawn from the hotel to sit under one of the giant live oaks near the water’s edge. By the time she’d finished eating at the hotel’s restaurant, they’d begun to set up for the dinner crowd. She pulled out her smartphone and a note pad and pen as she sat with her back against a tree. The day had gone far too fast for how much work she had to fit into it. But if she could do any work outside, feeling the gentle evening breeze and breathing in the fresh air, she would.
Writing out her list of everything she had to do for Mark helped her thoughts fully form in a way that a spreadsheet could not encapsulate. He might prefer digital, but Lizzie was decidedly analog. She had been making phone calls and leaving messages all morning for the contacts on Mark’s guest list. But of course, she often found, informal email was preferred over speaking to a real person on the phone.
Typing out a general draft email, she sent it to each contact on the list. Within a few minutes, she had replies from nearly half. Lizzie smiled and crossed their names off the list. She did not want to spend all night doing this, but she also didn’t want it to drag on for an entire week. She didn’t need anything to loom over head while she worked the weekend’s weddings.
What had that playful banter been all about earlier? He’d sounded so shocked at her taste in music. But she couldn’t be offended. His expression held surprise, not judgment. Are we friends? The hiccup in their acquaintance had been pushed firmly behind, at least in her opinion. I’d hate to miss out on a friendship with him.
Giving her head a shake, she snapped back to the task at hand. She didn’t want to go inside yet. Maybe he’d already written out a checklist for his vendors, but she needed one for herself. Once she began, she found that her questions beget mor
e questions.
The sun had begun its descent and the hot day turned into cool twilight as she finished up. Rolling her head from side to side, she stretched her arms over head. She pushed up to standing with the help of the tree, stiff from sitting still for so long. She pulled up her emails as she walked back to the cottage delighted that almost every contact had replied.
Letting herself in through the unlocked door of the cottage, she turned to lock it behind her. She didn’t worry about being accosted by anyone more unruly than a tipsy hotel guest, confused about their location. But as a longtime fan of Dateline she’d seen what happened to trusting girls too often. Lizzie put on another pot of coffee and took her lists over to her computer. She copied his spreadsheet format that he’d emailed to her and began to enter in all the information as Mark had requested.
The coffee maker beeped and she got up to fill herself a mug. She’d nearly finished her work. She’d surprised herself with the efficiency of his spreadsheet. Maybe he was on to something, she decided as she took a drink from the mug. She finished up his task and emailed the spreadsheet back to him. She typed up her list of questions for him and a timeline and to-do list for everything that he’d (or she’d) need to handle up to the day after the benefit concert. She emailed that to him.
Should I have done that?
Starting a new email, she typed a rushed apology. And then stopped. He’d offered her help without her asking. He couldn’t be offended if she lent her own expertise to something he did, right?
And then she decided to see if she couldn’t copy his spreadsheet to help simplify and organize more of her events. Lizzie worked until her eyes burned and she’d sorted through the next ten weddings. She wanted to keep going but she needed to take a nap first. Lizzie turned off the lights, wandered over to the deep couch and curled up on it. She took her suit jacket off and used it as a blanket over her legs. She’d only sleep for an hour, she decided.
“Lizzie? Lizzie?” she heard a voice calling her.
A warm palm gently tapped her on the shoulder. She relaxed under the touch and turned towards it. Breathing in deep of the bright, citrusy scent, comfort and desire stirred in her. Wait? Citrus? Mark?
Blinking rapidly several times, she opened her eyes and squinted in the bright sunlight. She sat up and her eyes darted about the room, confused when she looked at Mark.
“What time is it?” she asked, her throat scratchy.
“It’s only eight. I wanted to get a head start this morning.”
She nodded and swallowed. Her mouth was dry from her open mouth sleeping.
“Were you here all night?”
“Yeah, I guess I was,” she rubbed her eyes with one hand and blinked several times. Something scratched against her lower lids. Pulling back her hand she noted the black smudges. Of course I forgot to take off my make-up.
Averting her face, she stared at his shoes instead.
“I finished the RSVPs and emailed them back to you.”
“Really? Everything?”
At the sound of astonishment in his voice, she looked up at him. Immaculate in a fresh-pressed suit, her mouth watered. She cleared her throat.
“Yeah, I didn’t want to waste any time. And. . . ” Her tongue flicked out across her dry lips. “I may have sent you a tentative timeline and a list of questions for your vendors.”
“Sent me a.. what?”
“I…ugh… Sorry.” She looked down. Why had she sent that? It would be one thing if she talked to him in person, it was another to try to show him up or take over his event. “I came up with a list of questions to ask your vendors and a schedule. It’s more for me than for you. I didn’t mean to…”
“No, that’s okay. Thank you. I’ll look over what you sent.”
“Everything’s in your inbox. I know you hate paper. I think I’m going to head home and take a shower. I don’t need to be back before eleven. Is that okay?”
He gestured to the door. “Of course. And thank you. I can’t believe you got that done so quickly.”
Rolling off the couch, careful to keep her skirt pulled down as she did so, she slid back into the heels she’d left on the floor. She grimaced as she squeezed her swollen feet back into the tight shoes.
“I’m going to be busy with weddings the rest of the week. I didn’t want you to be waiting on me.”
“Understood. Go, get home and take a shower. I’ll see you in a bit.”
She nodded, walked to the desk to grab her purse, and stopped as she crossed back in front of him. “I am trying to help. I just want you to know. I’m not trying to overstep but, well, it’s thorough what I left for you.”
Mark nodded. “We can talk later.”
“Bye.”
Chapter Nine
Mark scanned over the list Lizzie had sent him the week before. He’d been taken aback by her bravado and hesitated to accept it. Wouldn’t that be the same as admitting that he needed help with his job? He’d reviewed everything she put together in his time, when she’d been out of the office racing around with one event or the other.
He was glad he hadn’t let misplaced pride stop him from accepting her advice. When he had read her list of questions, he’d realized how much he hadn’t stopped to think about himself. Clearly she’d been used to thinking three steps ahead and he trailed behind.
“Lizzie,” he said, clearing his throat. “I think we might head out to the venue today. I’d like you to take a look over everything.”
Lizzie nodded and swiveled her chair to look him in the eyes. Her expression gave away nothing and Mark nearly cleared his throat again. He only cleared his throat when he was nervous or unsure of what he was doing. He didn’t know if he’d ever find his footing around Lizzie. He might be nearly six years her senior, but she held more self-confidence than anyone he’d ever met.
It wasn’t arrogance or conceit. She expected results and got them. She smiled at everyone and he’d been astonished to watch them all smile back. He wondered if she’d ever met anyone who didn’t instantly warm up to her.
“Do you have time today?” he asked.
“Yes, this week is light. Only one wedding and it’s small. They don’t even want a rehearsal.”
“Great, I—“
The door to the cottage swung open, interrupting him. Stale tobacco and peppermint filled the air. As he watched, Lizzie flinched and lowered her gaze.
“Hello,” Frank Cade called out. “I thought I’d come by and see how everything is getting on.”
Frank approached the pair and Mark pushed back his chair and stood up. From the corner of his eye, he saw her shrink. If she was a balloon then Frank had been the pin that burst her into a million pieces upon stepping foot into the office. After a couple weeks sharing an office, he’d never seen her hesitant and unsure.
Mark walked around the desk, eager to intercept Frank before he reached her. I have to protect her. He stopped Frank with a handshake a few feet from the desks, his thoughts coming quickly one after the other. Why do I need to protect her? He didn’t stand directly between Frank and Lizzie, but at least he gave her something of a boundary.
“It’s going well. Everything is on time and on budget. I think we should have a great event.”
“Good, good. But what’s this I hear about needing more event planners?” Frank asked, sidestepping Mark to glare at Lizzie.
What had he missed? Sure, Mark had made the suggestion to Frank a week before, when he’d seen how overwhelmed and exhausted she was from her one woman show. But why did Frank stare her down like he was challenging and berating her? If he didn’t like the idea, he could talk to me.
“Lizzie’s been working out here by herself and she could use the help. That’s why I mentioned it,” Mark replied.
Frank continued to stare down at Lizzie and Mark grew uncomfortable. What was this unnecessary show of power? Mark had never known this side of Frank. What did he have against her?
“In fact, with the added responsibilities of ha
ndling all the special events island-wide, Lizzie’s doing the job of about three full-time people,” Mark railed on.
Neither Frank nor Lizzie moved a muscle, they seemed locked in a trivial staring game. But, to his relief, Mark watched as she raised her chin and her perfect posture returned. He didn’t like to see her back down to anyone.
“Well, I guess I’ll have to keep more of an eye on the department. If the revenues are up, we can talk about hiring another person. I’ll look forward to seeing all your hard work Miss Shaw,” Frank said.
Mark watched Lizzie quirk an eyebrow at the older man but she didn’t otherwise respond. Mark moved. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, the fingers biting into his palms until his knuckles whitened. Mark cleared his throat.
“Is there anything you wanted to take a look at?” Mark asked, stepping in front of Lizzie to get Frank’s attention again.
“No, no,” he replied, waving off the younger man. “Carry on Mark. I’m looking forward to the concert. I’m sure you’ll do a great job.”
“Lizzie’s been an exceptional hell—“ Mark began, wanting to again speak up for the work she’d done.
“You don’t need to get into specifics,” Frank interrupted, holding up a hand to silence him. “I’ll see it all the day of the event. I’ll show myself out.”
Frank turned and walked to the door. He turned the doorknob and paused to turn back before opening the door.
“Good to see you Mark. It looks like you’re settled here. And Miss Shaw,” he looked at Lizzie.
Mark watched the door shut behind his boss.
“Should I thank you for bringing up that I need help? Or be mad at you for putting me back on that man’s radar?” Lizzie asked.
Mark turned towards her and held both of his hands up in surrender.
“I thought I was doing a good thing. You need help.”
“Despite what you think, Mr. Edwards,” she said. “I’m good at my job. Not everyone is cut out for the hours or the pace. But I love it. I always have another project coming up. I have to be resourceful and I’m constantly on my toes.”
Tidal Patterns (Golden Shores Book 1) Page 10
