Read Online The Next Best Thing by Deidre Berry - Free Book Online Page B

my skills in that area, but I have come to accept that I am not the type of event planner who can take two pieces of wood, some string, and a can of spray paint and turn them into something fabulous and beautiful. That is just not what I do.
    But when push comes to shove, I can create stunning centerpieces, hot-glue appliqués, and dress a beautiful dinner table with the best of them. But that is where it stops. And that’s okay, because at SWE we have design specialists for all of that—let them worry about décor.
    I do the detail work of putting the whole thing together, and once it’s game time I oversee everybody. Making sure everyone is on track, on target, and on time. I am the conductor in this zany orchestra filled with florists, wait staff, bartenders, electricians, lighting people, caterers, production people, and the list goes on and on. Depending upon the size of the event, I manage a cast of hundreds, and sometimes thousands.
    I have been called a demanding, by the book, high-strung perfectionist, but I really don’t see that as a negative. Usually, the only people who feel that way about me are the ones who fail to hold up their end of the bargain.
    Despite the rocky start earlier in the day, the grand opening started on time.
    I had instructed the production team to build an elevated catwalk right in the middle of the store, facing the front door, so window shoppers and passersby could see the goings-on inside. And what was going on inside, was a hot fashion show featuring killer summer fashions worn by gorgeous, ninety-eight-pound models strutting their stuff to hits like Jay-Z’s “Change Clothes and Go” and “Beautiful” by Snoop Dogg and Pharrell.
    The energy was high, and the cash registers were ringing.
    Throughout all the activity, I had my eye on a woman who I instinctively knew was going to be trouble from the minute she walked in wearing generic jeans, a nondescript blouse, Payless shoes, and a platinum blonde weave that contrasted sharply with her dark skin.
    Erin was outside greeting customers and working the guest list, but somehow she let this one slip through.
    Gate-crashers and freeloaders are the pests at just about every event, and I know one when I see one. Sort of like roaches.
    I went outside to school Erin on her mistake. “You see that?” I said, pointing the woman out to Erin. “That’s what you call a liability. Just watch her for a minute.”
    Erin and I both watched from the storefront window, as Blondie pretended to shop for about two minutes, then went right to the food station where she grabbed two plates and piled them both high with gourmet hors d’oeuvres. After that, she went over and parked her behind at the bar where she started guzzling watermelon martinis like they were going out of style.
    â€œSee what I’m talking about?” I said to Erin. “Every cocktail and every single hors d’oeuvre has a monetary value. Nothing personal, I’m sure she’s a nice woman, but if she consumes a hundred dollars’ worth of food and drink and doesn’t buy anything, what does that make her?”
    â€œA liability,” Erin said.
    â€œRight! That’s why you have to learn how to read people when you’re working the door,” I said. “Now what you should have said was Sorry ma’am, this is a private event, invitation only. Please come back tomorrow when the store is open to the public. ”
    â€œGot it,” Erin said, sounding disappointed that she had failed at yet another simple task.
    I turned on my heels and went back inside Max Mara’s, where Blondie was now causing a ruckus.
    â€œWhere mine at?” she shouted at a passing sales clerk, who looked terrified and unsure of how to handle the situation. I went over to help out.
    â€œWhat seems to be the problem, ma’am?” I asked pleasantly.
    â€œThe problem is, all these other heifers in here