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“You never talked about budget.”

“We’d never have been able to do anything like this before,” Sonya told her. “Collin, the manor, all of it changed that. We want”—now she looked up, defiantly—“a serious bash. A way to open the manor up, fill it with people, make it—and us—a real part of the community again.”

“This should do it. It’s smart, and community-minded, to order your food and drink from all the locals. More complicated than just having a caterer handle everything, but smart.”

“I’m going to create signs for each dish, name of the dish, name of the venue that made it.”

“Really smart. So let me tell you what you’re going to want fromthose venues, at least top of my head on that, and how much. I’m wrong on the attrition, you can adjust. Then we’ll round up the number of servers, bartenders, the dishes and glassware you’ll need to rent, and all that.”

“Before you do that, I’d like to consult with my co-host. Give us one second. Cleo.”

“Don’t go far,” Bree called out, and glanced at the ceiling again.

When they came back in under two minutes, Sonya sat, folded her hands on the table. “We did toss around the idea of having the whole thing catered in some of our earlier stages of planning, and rejected that for this plan. So, no single caterer. But at this stage, with all the details and suggestions from you, we realize we could really use an event coordinator.”

“Are you interested?” Cleo asked. “And can you estimate your fee?”

Sitting back, Bree pursed her lips. “I could be interested.”

“You’d create the menu. Cleo and I would approve. You’d select the staff. You know who’s best a lot better than either of us could, and would save us hours, maybe days of time. You’d help supervise the setup. We wouldn’t ask you to actually work the event, but like us—and the Doyles have volunteered, our moms will both be here—just help keep an eye on things.”

“I could be interested,” Bree repeated. “I like you, both of you, and I like what you’re doing here. So I’d give you the friends and family discount.”

She named a fee, stiff but not harsh, and got nods.

“Fair,” Sonya said.

“But I preferEvent Goddesstocoordinator.”

“As our Event Goddess,” Sonya said, “what do you think we should serve?”

By the time Bree finished and left, details crowded Sonya’s brain.

“We should’ve thought of Event Goddess before. I think we could’ve—would’ve—pulled this off. But not like she will. And not without going a little crazy.”

“We’ll still go a little crazy, but you’re right. The more she talked, the more I could see how much smoother it’ll all go with someonewho knows what they’re doing taking charge. We approve, we handle the decor, deal with the invitations and RSVPs. There’s more, but my brain’s clogged.”

“Right there with you.” As if to unclog it, Cleo pushed back her hair. “I’m making a PB and J and going back to work where I know what I’m doing. Want me to make two?”

“Do that. I’ll let Pye and Yoda out awhile.”

With her PB and J and a full water bottle, Sonya settled back at her desk. After she pulled the trigger and sent the invitation graphic and the order to her printer, she opened her first file.

It took some effort, but she put all things Event-related out of her mind.

By the end of the day, she pulled another trigger and sent another order off for the displays she’d created for her Ryder presentation.

“Done,” she told herself, and firmly. “Don’t look back, look ahead.”

As she started to shut down, Trey sent a text.

I got slammed right at the end of the day. Have to deal with it, and it may take a while. Can I mooch dinner tomorrow night?

Sorry about the work. I’m just shutting mine down. Dinner tomorrow includes a story. A good one, so don’t worry. FYI, had a very productive meeting with Bree, who accepted the role as Event Goddess. Don’t work harder than you have to. I’ll miss you.

I could use a good story after today. Bree won’t let you down, not at a risk of losing goddess ranking. I’ll miss you, too.

Clover reached back for an old one with the Searchers and “(I’ll Be) Missing You.”