The clatter and buzz of the Manhattan café faded into the background as I sat across from Ava Stone, the high priestess of New York's event planning scene. Her sharp gaze was fixed on me, a predatory smile playing on her lips.
“So, Emma," Ava began, her voice smooth as silk, “I've been watching your career with great interest. You've got flair, I'll give you that. But this industry," she paused, gesturing broadly, “it's a shark tank. Not everyone's cut out for it."
I stiffened, bristling at the insinuation. “I think I've proven I can handle myself in any tank, shark-infested or otherwise," I retorted, meeting her gaze head-on. “I've been in New York for nearly a decade."
Ava's smile widened. “That's right – NYU then right into your own business. You've got confidence, Emma. And good thi
