RSVP with Love

“I saw it. Fabulous! You used the school colors very well. The invitation looked classy but fun. I like that the Hollington Lion mascot is silhouetted on the front, with a crown tilted at an angle on his head. He looks large and in charge.” She laughed and said, “The varsity guys will appreciate that.”

“We’re already starting to get registration RSVPs. I think it’s up to about two hundred.”

“Good. Now, what do you have in mind for Friday night?”

“Well, I thought there should be a private cocktail party for the elite alumni who are big contributors to the college. You know…the president can tell them how important and wonderful they are. I’ve invited the trustees.”

“Make sure you have Lucius Gray on the list. He’s an alumni and a very successful attorney in Atlanta. Also Beverly Clark. Her mother and a cousin graduated Hollington.”

“I’m glad you mentioned Beverly. You know she was homecoming queen in 1998, the fall before we graduated, and I want her to ride in the parade float on Sunday again as homecoming queen. I’m having trouble reaching her. She hasn’t returned any of my e-mails or phone calls.”

Kyra pursed her lips. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll talk to Beverly. She and I were best friends in college. We were in the same sorority.” Kyra glanced briefly at her. “What sorority were you in?”

Chloe was not about to admit to the embarrassment and rejection she’d experienced when she hadn’t been asked to pledge by any of the sororities. With her limited resources, cheap clothes and troubled background, it was probably just as well. The less anyone knew about her the better.

“Oh, I didn’t bother,” Chloe said, trying to appear a little indifferent. “I didn’t have time. I worked several part-time jobs. I was on scholarship so I had to keep up good grades.” She chuckled lightly, to cover that encroaching reminder that she didn’t fit in and never really belonged.

“Oh, but you were valedictorian at graduation, right? So it all paid off.”

“Yes. It all paid off,” Chloe reflected quietly.

Kyra signed for their lunch, and they left the small elegantly appointed room and headed back to her office. It was in one of the newer administration buildings along the south side of the college quad. On their walk back Kyra pointed out to Chloe other changes to the campus. Chloe admitted that since graduating she’d only been back on campus a few times. Kyra talked about the new stadium and science building with state-of-the-art labs and equipment. There was also restoration taking place on one of the original buildings, designed in the style of Stanford White.

As Kyra accepted messages from her assistant and walked into her office, she went back to the subject of the first night of homecoming weekend.

“Okay, so I know about the Friday reception with President Morrow. What about everybody else that night?”

“A meet and greet in the library gallery followed by Night Owl chats. I’m setting up rooms for many of the special interest clubs or groups so people can easily find classmates who had similar interests. Like, one for the sports jocks, one for the humanities. You know, art and creative writing students, music majors. And one for gays and lesbians—”

“Whoa. I don’t know about that last one. Just acknowledging them didn’t fly with the trustees last year,” Kyra warned.

“Well, I’ll have to remind them and the president that a very well-known gay journalist who graduated from Hollington with top honors and has a flourishing career gives to the college. He’s going to be at the Friday night party. We can’t leave him out or make him invisible.” Kyra continued to look skeptical and raised her brows. “Don’t worry. It’ll happen,” Chloe said confidently.

“If you say so. Now,” Kyra said, getting comfortable in her desk chair, scooting closer to the desk and staring at Chloe with an almost-childlike excitement, “what about the big dance on Saturday after the game? Have you found a place for that yet?”

“I’m considering several—”

“Don’t need to. Book Bollito.”

Chloe felt an odd little flutter in her chest at the mention of one of the hottest clubs in Atlanta. Housed in what appeared to be an industrial box that was formerly a manufacturing warehouse, the club had opened to rave reviews just a few years earlier.

“I know you’ve been there. Everybody within a hundred miles of Atlanta has come in for dinner and dancing. It’s a huge club space, but you don’t get that feeling. There are five full floors and each floor has its own kind of decor and music. The concept is brilliant, but that’s Kevin for you. He always comes up with the big ideas. You have to talk with him and get him to agree to use Bollito for the Saturday night dance. It’s perfect.”

Chloe was glad that Kyra had so much to say about Kevin Stayton’s club in downtown Atlanta. It gave her enough time to gather her wits and come up with a response. Of course Bollito was a great choice of venues. She didn’t object to that. She was having an adolescentlike moment at the thought of dealing with Kevin. And it wasn’t like they’d known each other as students. But their few encounters together had been profound. Simple and as brief as the moments had been, Chloe realized that she had lived with the memories of those moments for ten years.

“Like I was about to say, it’s on the list—”

“No, no, no, no…” Kyra said repeatedly, shaking her head and dismissing Chloe’s explanations. “That was not a suggestion, Chloe. You have to book Bollito. Think about what it’s going to be like to have it listed on the program. Think about the press. Bollito is way hot right now. It’s impossible to book it for private functions, but Kevin is one of us. A ninety-niner!”

Chloe found herself laughing at Kyra’s enthusiasm and logic. The truth of the matter was, Bollito would be perfect. But Bollito was not the problem.

“If it makes you feel better, I’m working on a proposal to send to Kevin.”

“You need to talk to Kevin. I can’t imagine him saying no. He better not.” Kyra brightened suddenly. “You know what? I’m going to call him right now and set it up.”

Despite Kyra’s small size it was clear to Chloe that Hollington had chosen well in making her the director of PR. She had exactly what the job needed. Not taking no for an answer but with charm and good humor.

“Hi. This is Kyra Dixon. I’m PR director for Hollington College.”

Chloe stared down at her hands, feigning indifference but listening to every word of the one-way conversation.

“Is Kevin available?…Oh…Will he be back soon?…You’re not sure.”

Suddenly, Chloe reached over the desk and, to Kyra’s obvious surprise, took the phone out of her hand.

“Hi. I’m sorry to interrupt. I’m Chloe Jackson, president of RSVP. I’m an event planner here in Atlanta. Perhaps I should be asking about Mr. Stayton, although I appreciate Ms. Dixon making the call. I understand he’s not in, but I’m hoping he’ll spare me some time this afternoon. Tell him—” she glanced at Kyra “—tell Kevin that I have a business proposition for him. It’s about our homecoming weekend in October. We graduated from Hollington the same year…Yes, yes, that is kind of funny, isn’t it?”

Chloe looked at Kyra and found her rolling her eyes. She had to grin.

“I’m hoping that Kevin can see me this afternoon…Yes, I know how busy he is. The man practically supports the economy of Atlanta all by himself. But, this is important, and I know Kevin would want to be in on the discussions. Why don’t I come over in say…” She looked at her watch. “About an hour?…No, I won’t stay long. This is just a getting-back-in-touch meeting. Yes, I really appreciate your assistance.”

Sensing that the call was about to end, Kyra snatched back the phone.

“Now, don’t let Kevin yell at you because you messed with his schedule this afternoon.” She smiled and laughed into her phone. Winking at Chloe she gave her a thumbs-up.

“This is so kind of you. Ms. Jackson will be over within the hour. Bye.”

“Well, that wasn’t very businesslike,” Chloe mused. “I probably should have asked to stop by tomorrow, give myself more time to prepare.”

“Girl, you don’t need any more time. You need to get over to Kevin’s office, tell him we want to use his club for a party and send him a contract. And tell him if he’s going to be difficult he’ll have to deal with me!”

Chloe decided that however Kevin Stayton managed his multimillion-dollar enterprise, Stayton Investments, he certainly didn’t stand on ceremony. Upon arriving at Kevin’s office his assistant, Peg, didn’t hesitate to show her directly into his office and leave her on her own. Unasked, Peg had returned five minutes later with a bottle of chilled mineral water, a cut Baccarat crystal glass and a linen cocktail napkin on a glass tray. Chloe’s eyebrows had shot up in surprise and appreciation. The offering showed a lot of class.

Kevin’s offices turned out to be a full floor with several rooms and a comfortable, if small, reception area. It was above Flavor, the first restaurant he’d opened in Atlanta. It was the business that had put him on the map, built his customer base and garnered regional reviews. Chloe was surprised by how modest, but attractive, professional and efficient the office was. It wasn’t at all what she’d expected from someone with Kevin’s level of success.

Left alone Chloe remained standing, pacing and looking around. The office was comfortable with a good modern desk and chair. Against an adjacent wall was a leather love seat, a glass-and-chrome coffee table and two more side chairs to create a more informal area to receive guests. Just above the back of the love seat was a gallery of framed photographs, most taken of Kevin with, Chloe could see, entertainment royalty. She recognized Alicia Keys, Jesse Jackson, Adam Sandler, Scarlett Johansson, Jada Pinkett Smith and Will Smith.

The office was neat and orderly; “a place for everything, and everything in its place” went through her mind. There were contracts, delivery receipts and inventory lists on his desk. There was a window-ledge-high bookcase behind Kevin’s chair organized with business magazines. At the base, strangely out of place, was a pair of soft leather loafers. A number of fancy glass and silver awards sat on his desk. With irreverence two were being used as paperweights. That made Chloe grin, and she attempted to relax. But she was ever mindful of the last time she and Kevin Stayton had seen one another. Without conscious thought her fingers touched her lips and she briefly enjoyed a memory that held steadfast and refused to go away.

The door suddenly opened, making Chloe start, and a man stood in the doorway clearly surprised at her presence. It was Kevin Stayton, dressed in running shorts, a sleeveless athletic tank top, a bandanna tied around his forehead and perspiration wet and shiny on his handsome face.

Dressed as he was it was easy to see Kevin was in superb shape. He hadn’t let his body go to fat as often happened in post-college years. If anything Kevin was even more handsome than the image that had been stored ten years in her memory bank. She started to speak, but Kevin turned in the doorway and called out.

“Peg? I don’t recall a meeting this…”

“You didn’t have one planned,” Chloe said, having recaptured her poise and confidence. “I’m sorry if I caught you—”

“Undressed?” Kevin said with an unexpected show of humor.