Cold Feet

“Who’s on the phone?”

“No-one,” she whispers. “but take my advice. Pretend there’s someone on the phone and walk away right now. Come back when she’s gone.”

I look at her quizzically but her expression tells me she’s in charge and furious. I take the phone and press it to my ear. I start a fake conversation with no-one and walk away.

Jessica steps up to Christine.

“I’m so sorry. Viola had to take that call. Another booking.”

Christine nods and smiles. She extends her hand, “No problem. And you are?”

Jessica ignores Christine’s hand just as Christine ignored mine. “Jessica. Can I help you?”

“You are,” Christine smiles as she picks up one of our brochures. “I just came to see your booth to make sure I’m not making any amateur mistakes.”

“Well then I guess you can see that you have a lot of fixing to do,” Jessica retorts coldly.

Christine’s eyes harden and she casts one last glance around my booth. Despite Jessica’s loyalty to me, Christine presses on, “If ever you want to work with a true professional, call me. I’ll pay more. Besides, I don’t think your boss is going to be in business much longer.”

“Why is that?” Jessica asks.

“Just a hunch,” Christine says. “My offer stands as long as this joke is in business. When it’s not in business anymore, my offer will be gone. Get out while you’re ahead.”

“I am ahead,” Jessica responds. “We are ahead of you. Now, why don’t you go and be men’s fantasy at your booth before I have to call the cleaners.”

Christine’s face flushes with anger. She opens her mouth then closes it again before walking briskly away.

I watch Jessica and Christine from afar but can’t hear what is said. After Christine leaves, I return to the booth.

“What was that about?” I ask Jessica.

“Jesus, girl! You were fawning all over that tart!” She mimics me, “You’re my role model. She’s probably telling the guests at her booth that she’s your role model. She even offered me a job and said that you won’t be in business much longer.”

“What?” I ask astounded.

“Yeah, so much for your role model,” Jessica says.

“Let me go over there and give her a piece of my mind…”

Jessica stops me. “Leave it, Vi. There’s no need to make this any worse. She’s just jealous because we’re better than her and she knows it. Take the high road and let it go. There’s more than enough room for both of us in this game.”

I sigh. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Thanks, Jessica.” I enter the booth and sit down. Inside I am still fuming. I had nothing but respect for Christine but with what Jessica just told me, I have lost all respect for her. I’m hurt too and finally take a walk to calm myself down.

The rest of the exhibition passes without further contact between Christine and myself. The clients we have gained from being present have made the exhibition well worth it and help me to forget about the disappointment of what happened with Christine.

CHRISTINE

I’ve been a wedding planner for a long time. I’m the best in the game and I’m not about to let a young upstart challenge for my crown. There’s one person who I come up against more and more and it’s her. Viola. I’ve lost a lot of business to her. I’m still doing great numbers and growing but I could grow so much faster if she wasn’t fishing in my pond.

Who the hell does she think she is? I know this business inside out. There isn’t that much to it when you’re an expert. It’s easy to pinpoint the weak points in any wedding planner’s business. Hell, they’re the same weak spots as mine and that makes it even easier to take her down. Her assistant didn’t want to take my offer but that’s okay. It’s just one point of attack.

When I’m finished, they’ll both be crawling to me.

I look at the brochure I took from their booth and start to formulate my plan of attack. I boot up my laptop and am soon on Viola’s website looking for the information I need. I can’t find what I’m looking for so I try another angle. I go to the gallery and testimonials.

Bingo! I make notes of the information I am looking for and then close the site.

I pick up the phone and dial Viola’s office number.

The phone is answered promptly.

“Hi, this is Mrs. Anderson.”

“Yes, Mrs. Anderson. How can I help you? This is Jessica.”

The assistant. “We’re having a party soon for Mr. Anderson’s office and he asked me about the band that we had at the wedding. I thought I’d give you a call and find out if I could contact them to see if they’re available. Would it be possible to give me their number?”

“Sure, Mrs. Anderson. I’d be only too happy to. Hold on while I get the details.”

I wait a few moments and then Jessica comes on the line again. “Here you go, Mrs. Anderson.”

She gives me the contact name and number for Steve from the band called ‘Plastered’. I thank her and hang up.

I smile and mentally congratulate myself. It’s that easy.

When Steve answers the phone I arrange to meet him to discuss hiring the band for a party.

Steve is already waiting when I enter the coffee shop. He recognizes me from the clothes I told him I’d be wearing and waves to me. I cross to the booth and slide in opposite him. I feel his eyes appraise me as I sit down. I’ve worn a short skirt and a tight, white cotton blouse that accentuates my breasts. It’s unbuttoned just far enough to reveal a glimpse of my bra which is visible through the soft material of the blouse anyway. I shake Steve’s hand.

“How can I help you?” Steve asks.

“I have a confession, Steve,” I reply conspiratorially.

“What’s that?” Steve asks, intrigued.

“Well, when I said I need a band for a party, I wasn’t being totally honest. I’d like your band to play for all my parties unless my clients insist otherwise.”

“All your parties?” Steve frowns. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m a wedding planner, just like Viola who you work with regularly.”

Steve nods as the penny drops. “Well, you know we go back a long way. I mean I’d be happy to support you when you have a wedding if we don’t have a wedding booked with Viola.”

I smile and shake my head. “I thought you’d say that Steve but I have to say I’m looking for a reversal of that proposed arrangement. You play all my weddings and fit her in where you can. I’ll pay you one and a half times what she pays you per wedding.”

Steve looks at me and says nothing. I can tell his mind is working overtime and I can tell where it’s headed so I cut it off.

“This is a one-time deal. Right here, right now. There’s no going to Viola and bargaining with her. I’m not into horse-trading.”