Page 58 of The Wisdom of Bug

“Too loud,” Evelyn countered.

“A string quartet?”

“Too boring.”

They compromised on a live band that could do both—something with range, energy, and the ability to read a room. Miraculously, they had an opening.

“You’re very good at this,” Evelyn said one evening, watching Alyssa coordinate with the band manager over the phone.

“At what?”

“Making things happen. Bringing people together.”

Alyssa felt heat rise in her cheeks. “It’s just event planning.”

“It’s more than that,” Evelyn said softly. “You’re creating something that everyone wants to get behind. In less than a week.”

The moment hung between them, charged with something neither of them was quite ready to name. Bug, sensing the shift, stood up and positioned himself directly between them, tail wagging slowly.

“Subtle,” Alyssa muttered to the dog.

The final three days became a whirlwind. As the date drew closer, the energy at Crawford’s shifted. People were excited. Genuinely excited. Not the forced corporate enthusiasm, but real anticipation—even though most of them had no idea how close they’d come to having the party in a soulless conference room.

“I think we might have actually pulled this off,” Evelyn said one afternoon, looking at the final checklist. “With two days to spare.”

“We?” Alyssa teased. “I seem to remember doing most of the work.”

“You had an assistant,” Evelyn gestured to Bug, who was currently napping on his designated planning chair.

“The best assistant,” Alyssa agreed.

The final planning meeting was held in Evelyn’s office the night before the party, with pizza—their traditional fuel—and a sense of accomplishment that felt hard-won. They’d created something together in record time. Not just a party, but a moment of connection for an entire company.

“Thank you,” Evelyn said, her voice sincere. “I couldn’t have done this without you. Especially not in under two weeks.”

“You could have,” Alyssa replied, “but it wouldn’t have been nearly as fun.”

Bug lifted his head, looked between them, and gave a soft, approving bark.

The party was tomorrow. And somehow, in the midst of all the planning and the pressure and the impossible deadlines, Alyssa had realized something terrifying and wonderful: shewasfalling for Evelyn Crawford. Hook, line, and sinker.

But that was a problem for another day. Right now, there was a final walkthrough to complete, and a very opinionated dog to consult.

16

Tacos and Tender Moments

Evelyn

Evelyn stood at the entrance of the converted Shoreditch warehouse and tried to remember how to breathe.

The space had been transformed. Fairy lights draped across exposed brick walls, casting a warm glow that made everything feel softer, more intimate. Round tables dotted the open floor plan, each one decorated with centrepieces that somehow managed to be festive without being tacky—a minor miracle in corporate event planning. The live band was setting up inthe corner, their equipment nestled among strategically placed poinsettias and evergreen garlands.

It was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

And Evelyn had no idea what to do with herself.

“Stop fidgeting,” Maggie said, appearing at her elbow with two glasses of champagne. “You look like you’re about to bolt.”