The Professional

Chapter 1

Struggling to juggle my purse, laptop case, eight cups of hot coffee, three folders, a stack of mail, and Martha’s dry cleaning, I bustled into J&M Weddings, Inc. and hoped that no one noticed that I was fifteen minutes late and that the coffee would redeem my lateness. The office was alive with activity even though it was still early yet, and people were darting to and fro trying to make sure that everything was in order for whatever event they were trying to plan. The soft beige of the walls and the stylish decorations did not disguise the frantic energy that clung to the building, and I loved the liveliness of the office.

Almost the second that I stepped into the office, my co-workers descended upon me and grabbed at coffee cups as if it were the elixir of life, which probably happened to be true in most of their cases.

“Oh my god! Anna, you are such a lifesaver,” Lana groaned as she took the first sip of coffee. Any time that Lana Durand was around, you could be sure that some form of caffeine was in striking distance—preferably coffee. Lana became one of my best friends shortly after I started working at J&M Weddings. She had been the first person to approach me on my first day of work as I sat behind my desk petrified and asked me if I had anyone to eat lunch with and whether I would join her for lunch, and I hesitantly agreed to join her.

She is probably the most beautiful woman that I had ever met. Her long blonde hair framed her face perfectly without a single hair ever being out of place, and her big blue eyes had men everywhere falling at her feet. Her strong cheekbones and strong, sleek jaw gave her a refined and proud look, and her full, pouty lips were perfectly proportioned to her face and begged to be kissed—or at least, that is what several of her admirer told her. If her face wasn’t enough to get the guys lining up at her door, she had every girl’s dream body. She had the classical hourglass figure and fit into a size six with a little room to spare. She had long legs and soft, tanned skin that never lost any color.

All through lunch that first day, we made the normal small talk, and I tried my best not to make a fool of myself, wanting to leave a decent impression on my co-workers. The conversation was at times awkward and stilted, but Lana did her best to make me feel comfortable, which was a feat at the best of times with my being an introverted person, and carried the conversation with impressive poise, though my half of the conversation was lacking more often than not. My timidity did little to push Lana away from me, and she invited me to eat lunch with her the next day and the day after that and so forth. We became fast friends after we started eating lunch together on a regular basis, and I was immensely grateful for her devout friendship.

“I do what I can,” I reply to her enthusiastic greeting and headed toward my desk to set down my armload of precariously balanced belongings. Lana grabbed the coffees out of my hands to make it easier for me to set everything down, and I sent her a quick thank you in appreciation. Quickly hanging the dry cleaning in the closet on the left side of my desk, I then put the folders and the mail on top of my desk, my purse in the bottom right hand drawer of my desk, and my laptop case between the wall and my desk to get it out of the way for the moment before I took the carrying case full of coffee sans one cup back from Lana.

“So?” Lana asked with a slight lilt to her voice that told me that she was digging for information.

“So?” I mimicked.

“How was your date last night?” She asked eager for details. I cringed, having hoped that she might forget to ask. “You were late this morning, so I am thinking that it went really well.”

She couldn’t have been more wrong if she tried, but I didn’t want to tell her that her first foray into setting up a blind date went amiss. I heaved a sigh in exasperation and say the first thing that comes to my mind.

“It was nothing like that. You know that I don’t sleep around; let alone sleep with a guy on the first date. It was good. We had a good time, but there just wasn’t any chemistry there. It was more like going out with a friend as opposed to a boyfriend. I don’t see it going anywhere.” In all honesty, I had gotten stood up, plain and simple. The whole day I debated with myself about whether or not I would go to this supposed date, but in the end, I decided to at least give it a try for Lana’s sake. I had gone to the restaurant where we were supposed to meet and had waited for an hour and a half for the guy to show up, but if he did show up, he never approached me. I can’t say that I blamed him. I am not the most beautiful girl around, and I know that he probably took one look at me a bolted right out the door.

Lana rolled her eyes at me and stalked back to her desk in disappointment, and I sighed in relief that she didn’t see through my lie. I could handle Lana’s frustration and had dealt with it on a number of occasions, but I could not handle the sympathy that she would give me if she knew the truth. I was hurt that the guy never showed up, but I wasn’t devastated. I was used to being rebuffed by guys because of my appearance.

Not to say that I looked like a troll, but I could only be classified as average at best. My weight just crossed the line of too chubby, and my skin never stayed clear for more than a few hours, on a good day. Due to my small income, my wardrobe consisted mainly of things that I collected over the years—mostly from my older sister—or things that I got from thrift stores when I found the time to go, and my wariness of public situations made meeting men a real difficulty. I barely spoke to anyone unless forced into a conversation, and most guys probably want to date someone who will be able to talk around them. So, I had opted to put off dating until I could actually have the confidence to speak around people of the male variety, and given my track record, that moment would not be any time soon. I was fine with that though. I prided myself on being a girl—no, woman—who did not need a man to complete her. My self-worth did not come from having a guy around.

“Tatianna!” I jumped from my chair and dashed into the office behind me. Mallory Jennings did not like to be kept waiting. Mrs. Jennings was one of the founders of J&M Weddings and one of the best event and wedding planners in the past decade. She had planned weddings for the elite of society and always made the event the talk of the year, and I, as her lowly secretary, had to field all of her calls and run all of her errands. My job wasn’t what I had initially anticipated when I first began working here, but I still had hope that if I could get on Mallory’s good side that she might give me a chance.

As soon as I entered the office, I could tell that Mallory was in a foul mood. Her jaw was tense, and her lips were pursed until they were white instead of the gentle rosy color that they usually were. I knew to be on my guard or unleash a world of hurt on my coworkers and myself. I walked briskly to her desk.

“Mrs. Jennings?”

“Tatianna, the caterer for the McWate wedding just cancelled. I need for you to get me the numbers of all the caterers in the area.” I tensed the second I heard the name “McWate” leave her mouth. The fastest way to get on Mallory’s bad side was to threaten the success of one of her events, and with the McWate wedding only weeks away, finding a caterer for the event would be next to impossible.

The McWate’s were an illustrious family who had all the right connections. The eldest McWate, Gregory McWate, ran a very influential electronics company, but he was the only member of the family that did anything of note, if you ignored all the trouble that his children got into. Recently, his youngest son, Joshua McWate, cleaned up his act and decided to get married, and Mallory had been put in charge of such an important event which would take place in only a month. The failure of success of this wedding could either destroy Mallory’s beloved company or mark her as the best planner in the entire area.

“Yes, ma’am. I will bring that right to you.” I didn’t delay a second, quickly compiled a list of caterers in the area with the manpower to provide food for such a large party, and emailed the list to her (not wanting to be in direct contact with Mrs. Jennings when she was so furious). The rest of the day quieted by comparison. There were no disasters that couldn’t be fixed with more than a phone call, and Mrs. Jennings stayed in her office calling all of the caterers and trying to find one willing to serve such a large event on such short notice. As soon as five o’clock rolled around, everyone began clearing out of the office, but I sat at my desk still. I had nowhere go other than home to Mr. Jingles, my cat. I continued to work until Lana walked up to my desk a few minutes later, looking the slightest bit contrite for overreacting at my failed “date”.

“Do you want to go out for drinks tonight and talk about what happened on your date last night?”

Crap. I had no reasonable excuse to decline her offer, but I could not talk to her about something that didn’t happen.

“There isn’t much to tell. We ate; he took me home, and we said goodbye. That is all that happened.” I gave a pitiful shrug and hoped that Lana would let the topic drop.

“Well, what did you talk about? Did he seem interested? I know you said that you didn’t feel a connection, but did he seem to like you?” Lana asked earnestly.

“I don’t know. You know that I am not any good with guys. I don’t think he did. Either way, it isn’t going to work out. Just drop it.” I wanted this topic of conversation to end.

“Why don’t I just give him a call as a curious friend wondering how his date went? That wouldn’t seem creepy,” she enthused as if she had figured out a master plan.

“No. Just leave it alone.” I began gathering my stuff, regardless of how much work I still had left to do, but I could not take this line of interrogation any more. I hated lying to Lana, but I would hate more the pitying look that she would give me if I told her the truth. I stood from my chair and hurried toward the main door without even telling Mrs. Jennings goodbye, but Lana followed right after me.

“I promise I will be really subtle. I will just ask him how it went—“ I turned on her, and she abruptly stopped talking.

“No! Just freaking drop it. He stood me up. I sat in that stupid restaurant by myself for two hours waiting for him to show up, but he never did. So, no, I don’t want you to call him to see whatever pathetic excuse he can come up with for no showing up.” I headed in the direction of my apartment at a brisk pace, and luckily, Lana did not follow me anymore. When I had gotten a good distance between where I had left Lana and where I was, I slowed my pace to a more manageable walk and continued home. I just wanted to have a large glass of wine and go to bed. Hopefully, this whole debacle will be forgotten by the morning, and I could move on with my life.

The walk to my apartment is peaceful, leaving my mind wonderfully blank. The city was bustling about me with people rushing off here and there, but I was left alone. When I walked into my shabby apartment, I felt the last of the tension that clung to me leave in a wave. Kicking off my battered shoes, I shrugged out of my suit jacket and hung it on the hook beside the door until I could put it away in my room. I headed straight to the kitchen to pull out a bottle of cheap wine to soothe my battered nerves. I poured myself a generous helping of the wine, and just as I was bringing the glass to my lips, a knock sounded on my door. I groaned in frustration and walked to the door with my glass of wine still in hand.

I had never been more shocked in my life than when I opened the door and saw Phillip Pittman on the other side. Phillip had met my sister when they were in their late teens, and the two had become instant friends. He was only a few years older than me, but when I was a teenager, the age difference seemed insurmountable. That did not prevent me from falling in love—or at least what my teenaged self thought of as love—with him the moment I saw him, though. Sadly, the torch that I carried for him still continued to this day. I hadn’t seen him much after he graduated high school. He would stop by my parent’s house to visit with my sister sometimes, but after I moved out, there was no common point in our lives. I used to ask my sister about how he was when we would talk on the phone, but eventually, I stopped asking. I thought that I had started to move on, but seeing him here at my dingy apartment, I knew that I was still the same lovesick fool that I was three years eleven months two weeks and one day ago—the last time that I had seen him.

“Hey, Tati.” He was the only person that I ever allowed to call me Tati because I couldn’t tell him no, especially when he gave me that gentle smile of his that lit up his face and made my heart skip a few beats.

“Phillip?” I asked, shocked beyond words. I was having trouble catching my breath. Fantasies of him sweeping me into his arms and declaring his love from me ran wild in my mind, but I gave my best effort at reining them in.

“It’s been a while, huh?” His lips quirked slightly at his understatement of the time that had passed. “You look well.”

“Yeah. You too.” I waited for him to say or do something, anything else that might tell me what he was doing standing outside my door, but he just stood there smiling at me. “Not that I don’t appreciate seeing you or anything, but what are you doing here? How did you know where I lived?”

He eyes brightened as he seemed to remember whatever reason he was really here to see me. “I saw your sister, and she gave me the address. I have a favor to ask you.”

Knowing that I would agree to help him no matter what he asked me to do--even if he asked me to give him a non-vital organ, I moved aside to let him into my apartment, and he stepped passed me quickly. As I shut the door behind him, I took a few deep breaths to compose myself after the mind-numbing shock. Turning back to face Phillip, I watched him as he looked around my apartment. Seeing him here, in my personal sanctuary, was wreaking havoc on my mental stability.

“What can I help you with, Phillip?” My tone was very impersonal, and he turned to face me again.

“What have you been up to?” His attempt at small talk reminded me of how little he really knew about me. I could probably tell you everything that there is to know about him, but he knew little to nothing about me because he didn’t care to know. I took a quick sip of my wine to hide the hurt I felt from that thought

“Oh, you know. This and that. What about you?”

“It’s been a little busy. I just started my fellowship, and things are going well. I have been dating this fantastic girl for the past year.” I had to fight back a gasp at the pain that I felt hearing those words. I knew that he would date other girls, but I didn’t want to hear about it. “That is kind of why I am here. The other night I asked her to marry me, and . . . she said yes.”

In that moment, my heart died. That look of wonder in his eyes at the very idea of spending the rest of his life with her crushed my very soul. That look of utter contentment was the reason I wanted to work in the wedding industry, but seeing that look on his face as he talked about another girl made me want to wail in despair. Why was he telling me this?

I put on the most convincing smile that I could muster and said, “Congratulations! We should toast to your engagement.”

The last thing that I wanted to do was toast to his engagement, but I couldn’t stand there looking at him. I could feel my heart shattering in my chest, and I needed to compose myself. I walked into the kitchen and heard him follow me, and he continued talking as I poured his glass of wine with shaking hands.

“Thanks. That is what my favor has to do with actually. Grace and I have no idea what to do to plan a wedding, and your sister says that you have been working at an agency that plans weddings. We would really appreciate your help planning our wedding. We’re both so busy with work and, honestly, a little lost when it comes to this kind of thing.” He gave a little chuckle at the end. He was asking me—the girl who had been in love with him for over a decade—to help him plan his wedding, and there was no way that I would deny him. Despite the heartbreak that would surely follow for me, I would do anything to see him happy. The tears were building up behind my eyes, and I knew that I was about to break down. I needed to get him out of here before I dissolved into a weeping pile of distraught female.

I carefully poured Phillip a glass of wine and valiantly tried to compose myself, telling myself that I only needed to hold it in for a few more minutes. I placed the bottle of wine on the counter next to the wine glass gently and brace myself on the counter for a moment, taking deep breaths to calm my racing heart. I only allowed myself a moment because I didn’t want Phillip to ask me if anything was wrong (not that he would recognize my heartbreak), and I turn around and hand Phillip the glass of wine.

“Toast to you and your fiance.” Tapping my glass gently against his, the ringing of the glass filled the room. I took a large gulp from my glass, and Phillip looked at me like I was crazy.

“Thanks,” he said, sounding uneasy, and took a sip from his glass. An awkward silence descended on us, but I felt as if I started to talk that I would burst into tears. I wanted to preserve what little dignity I had left. “So you never really answered earlier. What is going on in your life?”

Phillip stood casually leaning against the small island in my kitchen that served as a divider between my kitchen from the rest of the apartment, and he looked so happy with himself and his life. I was thrilled that he was so thrilled with where his life was and where it was heading, but being reminded that he couldn’t find that happiness with me was like a dagger to my heart. Forcing a smile on my face, I answered his question as best I could without sounding pathetic.

“Like I said, this and that. Nothing really big has been going on. I have been focusing on my career.” I winced a little after I said that I was focusing on my career, realizing that that excuse was what lonely people used to explain away why they were single. “I have been on a few dates here and there, but nothing really took.”

I didn’t mention the fact that the only dates that I had been on were blind dates and that the last date that I had been on in months stood me up. In some perverse way, I wanted to make him feel jealous or at least protective of me and thought that maybe hearing that I had been dating might do that, but my plan backfired on me when I recognized his shock at the fact that I had been dating, as if he were shocked that any guy would deign to notice me. I quickly looked away from him, and tried to push back the tears that were pooling in my eyes.

Phillip must have realized that he made some sort of mistake that had upset me, though I highly doubt that he realized what mistake that was and just how many he had made that night, so he cleared his throat and said, “I am happy for you, Tati.”

Just hearing him use the nickname that only he was allowed to use made me choke back a sob as I stared at the counter of the island just to the left of him. I wanted to scream abuse at him and ask him how he could do this to me, how he could disregard my feelings and ask me to plan his wedding to another woman. I knew that I was being unfair and that he had no idea how I felt about him, but I also knew that doing this would break me.

Once I felt the lump in my throat go down a little so that I no longer felt as if I were being strangled, I forced myself to say, “Yeah. We should probably meet up this weekend to discuss details. I won’t have time during the week to meet up.” And I needed time to recuperate from all of this, if that were even possible.

“That works out perfectly. How about next Saturday at 10? We could meet at Gracie’s place and talk everything over.”

“Yeah, great. Fantastic plan. I will see you on Saturday. Just text me the address, and I will be there on the dot.” Phillip seemed shocked by the sudden dismissal but tried not to let it show.

“Okay. Good. I think I still have your phone number.” I nodded vaguely and began heading to the front door to let him out. We were not at a level of acquaintance where he could let himself out of my house, so I walked him to the door and held it open for him as he walked out. After an awkward, unsure wave goodbye, he began walking down the hallway of my apartment building, and I watched him until he passed the door of the apartment next door to mine. Then, I shut the door and locked it before sinking to the ground in front of the door and truly breaking down. Sobs wracked my entire body as I mourned what I had lost, even though I didn’t even realize that I had still longed for it, and what I would have to go through before this was finally all over.