Выбрать главу

“You can’t really be serious?” Heather is irate. Her body is bobbing back and forth toward the desk, looking around the room to see if anyone else agrees with her. “Again, you need the city’s approval to use the park.”

Asher eyes look up toward the ceiling as if he’s taking my idea and dancing around with it in his head. He begins to nod his head as the thoughts work their way through. “The park doesn’t concern me. The mayor owes me a favor. A pretty big favor too, and I’ve been waiting to cash in on it.” Asher leans back in his chair and draws his hands together in a triangle in front of his face.

He looks across the table and directs his attention toward Erik. “You know more than I do on this matter. Can you put together two productions, one in Central Park and another at Lincoln Center?”

It looks like Erik wants to say no, but he knows he can’t. Instead, he says, “It will be tight, but you know we can.”

Heather shoots more hateful glares in my direction and Gretchen’s mouth purses. I don’t think she’s mad, just overwhelmed by the turn of events. She should be happy. Her problem is now solved.

Asher scribbles a few notes on a yellow pad in front of him. “Good. Then two events it is, going on simultaneously. Erik, I will need someone to work closely with my office to make sure the Central Park event has what it needs from the mayor’s office.”

Heather lurches toward Asher, exuding overeagerness. “I will be in charge. With all due respect, Kat, you are just too new to take on such a large responsibility.” She is so smug.

Asher pays no mind to her comment. “Heather, I will connect you with my office upstairs to get all the details.” He seems pleased with the way the events are coinciding. “Mrs. Monroe, you will be working with me on the private event. Since it has now become a gala, I want to be involved in every aspect.” He looks up at me. “And I like the idea about the kids. I’ll have my office take care of that.”

Heather nearly falls out of her seat. I want to do the same. First of all, I was hired to work alongside Heather, not lead my own project. And secondly, I can’t work with this man. I try to come up with my best plea to excuse myself from the position. “I’ve only been here a week and was hired to work with Heather. Central Park is going to be a large production. She’ll need assistance. You should hire someone else to produce the gala.” The irony that I’d rather work with Heather is not lost on me.

Heather’s mouth falls open as she lets out a loud “harrumph” sound. Yeah, maybe my comment didn’t quite come out the way I meant it to. I was trying to save myself, not make her look bad.

Asher takes a look around the room and appraises the staff. His eyes fall on Trish for a second before he pulls himself back to address the table.

“Heather is a fine producer. But you’re right. With one producer on the project, Heather will need assistance. Patricia will temporarily be promoted to Heather’s production assistant for the next three months. She can handle it, right, Erik?”

One thing you can’t fault Erik on is his team. And the man is proud of the people he has selected to be a part of it. Erik seems to have no choice, yet has full confidence in the company he created. “Trish is more than capable of assisting. We’ve done a concert event in the park before. Not as big, but we know what we’re looking at. Heather will be fine.”

Heather dramatically rises from her seat. “But she’s a receptionist!” Her voice almost shrieks with the word.

Asher’s jaw clenches in agitation over Heather’s outburst. While his face is stern, his voice is steady and direct. “No. She is an assistant. Let her assist you. As I recall, you’ve wanted to perform this role on your own. Now is your chance to prove you’re as good as your threats.”

Asher just called Heather on her shit in front of everyone. I’d smile if I weren’t so damn pissed off. And as thrilled as I am that I’m now separated from Heather, I’m absolutely frightened. I’m now running my own event and am in way over my head.

To be completely honest, I thought only two producers on the event was ridiculous when it was just Heather and me. Now it’s just me. This is insane.

My mind is scrambling. I want to cry or back into a corner—or both. This is a colossal responsibility. I look over at Heather, an unreadable expression on her face. I can’t tell if she’s excited to be rid of me or just as scared as I am.

My mouth opens to protest when Malory leans over to whisper, “You are a fucking rock star.”

I close my mouth and hold my breath. If I want to be like Malory and if I want to prove to Gabriel my career is worth the sacrifices, then I’m going to do this full throttle.

Once my hands stop shaking, that is.

Asher leans forward in his chair, securing the buttons on his well-tailored suit jacket, and continues the meeting. I sit back and take notes as technical terms are discussed and sponsorship requests are detailed. The entire time, I find myself glaring at Asher, wondering how I was such a fool this morning.

At the end of the meeting, Asher turns to Malory. “I expect a full report on ad sales, and sponsorships in place by next Friday.”

Malory nods as she takes notes on her blackberry.

“That’s all.” Asher rises and the meeting is over.

Just like that.

Damn, he can command a room.

I hide in the safe space that is my office. I am still coming down from my morning aggravation. From the rain to the car ride, the elevator and in this office…

I am relieved to finally be able to take off my shoes, which are still cold and damp. I turn to the computer and pull up a Google search, typing in ALEXANDER ASHER.

Thirty years old, he is a trust fund baby, part of the Asher empire, but made his personal fortune investing in several small internet companies and reselling them to the likes of Google, Yahoo, and Time Warner for millions. A graduate of Columbia University, he owns a stake in a small record label he sold to Sony, as well as a production house (us) and three restaurants, one each in Vegas, L.A., and Miami.

He acquired Marks Entertainment three years ago, creating Asher-Marks Entertainment, in which Erik obtained a considerable sum as long as he was able to stay on board to run the team. I read about the company before but didn’t put much research into the acquisition. What really speaks out is his philanthropy. He annually gives away a considerable amount of his fortune to children’s charities.

Never married. No children. Asher has been seen with a different actress, model, or super beauty at every premiere, gala, and opening around the city.

As upset as I had been earlier, there was no denying I was affected by his presence. When he touched the small of my back, I could feel his body heat against me. And that invigorating scent of tobacco and vanilla, I could have drunk him in for days.

I close my eyes, thinking of what his soft hands would feel like running up and down my body. A chill runs down my spine. This is wrong. I am married.

Oh—I console myself—a little fantasy never hurt anyone.

I order lunch in an attempt to stay hidden from my coworkers. If my appearance wasn’t enough to make me a hermit, anyone who heard my outburst this morning is definitely talking about it.

I spend the afternoon making calls to Lincoln Center, vendors, and various press departments, letting them know I am the primary contact on the event now. As it’s a summer Friday, I decide to call it an early day. I turn off my computer and pack my stuff to head home.

Grabbing my belongings, I am startled by a knock at the door. I let the person on the other side know they can enter, and Trish walks in carrying a long white box.

“Special delivery!” she exclaims like a singing telegram.

I step back and watch her enter.

“Looks like it could be flowers.” She awkwardly carries the large box into my office and places it on my desk, nearly dropping it on the way. “It’s really heavy. From your husband?”