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Authors: Dianne Venetta
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agree.” He nodded, remembering the plump round claws,
mostly pink but marked by distinct black tips. “They were pretty
good. In South Carolina we have the blue crab. Not as meaty as your
stone crab, but sweet and tender and one of my personal favorites.”
Clay leaned forward and said, “I like mine best when prepared spicy
and served with hot butter.”
“Sounds delicious.”
“How about you?”
“How about me what?”
“Do you like spicy?” he teased.
Sydney hesitated, but seemed content to play
along. “Spicy, of course. Also buttery, creamy and sweet—I like a
wide variety of flavors.”
He smiled, pleased by her response. “You
sound adventurous.”
“I can be,” she said wistfully, then raised
her glass for a sip of water.
Another waiter showed up tableside. “Have you
had a chance to look over the menus?”
“No need,” Clay replied. “The lady will be
ordering for me.”
She looked at him, surprised. “Are you
sure?”
“Hundred percent.”
“Okay.” Sydney ordered and with a nod to the
waiter as he departed, Clay zeroed in. “So tell me about Sydney.” The feature attraction . “What do you do for fun?”
“You already know. I play volleyball, enjoy
fishing...”
“Anything else?”
“I work a lot, which doesn’t leave much time
for anything else.”
He frowned. “All work and no play make for a
dull girl, you know.”
“Not when you enjoy what you do.”
“Which you do,” he returned, though sensed
some frustration regarding the same. Did she really enjoy what she
did for a living, or was she merely passing time until she found a
husband? A lot of women he met did just that—pretended to be
career-minded until landing a man to take care of them. Then it was
bye-bye career and hello stay-at-home. Nothing wrong with
stay-at-home mothers. His mom did. His grandmother did. But they
never pretended otherwise. Did Sydney?
“Yes. I like putting together events,
coordinating the details, helping carry a show to a successful
conclusion. For me it’s like conducting an orchestra. There are so
many different players, so many different pieces of the whole that
must be managed and arranged for a seamless outcome, that I find
challenge in the process, satisfaction upon completion. You know
you’ve done well when you see people having a great time without
the first thought as to how the event came together, from the
inconspicuous garbage cans to the positioning of signage throughout
the venue—because someone else handled the nitpicky details.”
“It’s true.” He leaned back against the
wooden chair. “Now that you mention it, I’ve attended a few
conventions and never thought twice about how they came to be.”
Clay proceeded to tell her about the boat shows he’d been to, the
previous Special Olympics events he and Q had participated in.
Sydney raised her glass as if toasting his
observation. “There you go,” she affirmed and took a sip of
water.
“It’s nice to enjoy what you do, so long as
it doesn’t dominate your life.”
She glanced outdoors. “In the beginning it
has to, don’t you think? If you want to be successful, I mean.”
“Sure it takes time, but you need to maintain
a certain sense of balance between work and personal. Everything
can’t be about the job,” he pushed, wondering how much truth there
was to Charlie’s comments about her. She sure seemed intent on her
career. Did she use people for advantage ? Is that why she
dated her boss? Is that why she didn’t currently have a
boyfriend?
“One day I hope to work for a major
international company and restrict my duties to handling their
in-house events worldwide. I won’t get that job if I don’t prove
I’m willing to make my career a priority. Event planning is not a
nine-to-five job. It requires long hours, odd hours, and the
position I want means plenty of time away from home.”
Clay heard ambition when she talked about her
job, but he also detected a bit of free spirit in
mostly pink but marked by distinct black tips. “They were pretty
good. In South Carolina we have the blue crab. Not as meaty as your
stone crab, but sweet and tender and one of my personal favorites.”
Clay leaned forward and said, “I like mine best when prepared spicy
and served with hot butter.”
“Sounds delicious.”
“How about you?”
“How about me what?”
“Do you like spicy?” he teased.
Sydney hesitated, but seemed content to play
along. “Spicy, of course. Also buttery, creamy and sweet—I like a
wide variety of flavors.”
He smiled, pleased by her response. “You
sound adventurous.”
“I can be,” she said wistfully, then raised
her glass for a sip of water.
Another waiter showed up tableside. “Have you
had a chance to look over the menus?”
“No need,” Clay replied. “The lady will be
ordering for me.”
She looked at him, surprised. “Are you
sure?”
“Hundred percent.”
“Okay.” Sydney ordered and with a nod to the
waiter as he departed, Clay zeroed in. “So tell me about Sydney.” The feature attraction . “What do you do for fun?”
“You already know. I play volleyball, enjoy
fishing...”
“Anything else?”
“I work a lot, which doesn’t leave much time
for anything else.”
He frowned. “All work and no play make for a
dull girl, you know.”
“Not when you enjoy what you do.”
“Which you do,” he returned, though sensed
some frustration regarding the same. Did she really enjoy what she
did for a living, or was she merely passing time until she found a
husband? A lot of women he met did just that—pretended to be
career-minded until landing a man to take care of them. Then it was
bye-bye career and hello stay-at-home. Nothing wrong with
stay-at-home mothers. His mom did. His grandmother did. But they
never pretended otherwise. Did Sydney?
“Yes. I like putting together events,
coordinating the details, helping carry a show to a successful
conclusion. For me it’s like conducting an orchestra. There are so
many different players, so many different pieces of the whole that
must be managed and arranged for a seamless outcome, that I find
challenge in the process, satisfaction upon completion. You know
you’ve done well when you see people having a great time without
the first thought as to how the event came together, from the
inconspicuous garbage cans to the positioning of signage throughout
the venue—because someone else handled the nitpicky details.”
“It’s true.” He leaned back against the
wooden chair. “Now that you mention it, I’ve attended a few
conventions and never thought twice about how they came to be.”
Clay proceeded to tell her about the boat shows he’d been to, the
previous Special Olympics events he and Q had participated in.
Sydney raised her glass as if toasting his
observation. “There you go,” she affirmed and took a sip of
water.
“It’s nice to enjoy what you do, so long as
it doesn’t dominate your life.”
She glanced outdoors. “In the beginning it
has to, don’t you think? If you want to be successful, I mean.”
“Sure it takes time, but you need to maintain
a certain sense of balance between work and personal. Everything
can’t be about the job,” he pushed, wondering how much truth there
was to Charlie’s comments about her. She sure seemed intent on her
career. Did she use people for advantage ? Is that why she
dated her boss? Is that why she didn’t currently have a
boyfriend?
“One day I hope to work for a major
international company and restrict my duties to handling their
in-house events worldwide. I won’t get that job if I don’t prove
I’m willing to make my career a priority. Event planning is not a
nine-to-five job. It requires long hours, odd hours, and the
position I want means plenty of time away from home.”
Clay heard ambition when she talked about her
job, but he also detected a bit of free spirit in
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