I may not have gotten rid of my assistant, but if all this solidifies me as the choice for partner, then it will be worth it.

Chapter Six

Kenzie

My studio apartment has two things going for it. First, it’s in Manhattan. Second, it’s small enough that I really only need to move about two steps in each direction whether I’m hungry or I have to go the bathroom. New York has much worse to offer and, like I said, it’s in Manhattan.

I fall back on the pull-out sofa that’s also my bed and lean my head back, closing my eyes.

It wasn’t the best day for me as an event planner.

I met with a potential client for her daughter’s fifth birthday and even though kids’ parties aren’t my ultimate goal, I was really excited about it. The client lived in a condo that overlooks Central Park, so working with her would definitely be a stepping-stone into the most elite circles in Manhattan.

Everything was going well. She loved my vision about turning her large family room into a Candy Land with pastel drapes falling from the ceiling and a cotton candy rainbow over the entryway. Then she threw me the bomb. Her daughter was obsessed with unicorns and she wanted to switch the theme to unicorns.

I was cool to switch it up—a million other ideas floated in my head—but she mentioned that she wanted a real unicorn at the party.

Silence filled the large room with a twenty-foot ceiling, and I sat for a moment before I figured out that she wasn’t joking. Unfortunately, I had to voice with a cringe that there’s no such thing as a unicorn.

She replied, “Obviously. But I want it to look like a real unicorn. A white horse with a unicorn horn on its head. She’d absolutely love it.”

I put my pen to paper to keep my thoughts to myself. “Like, in your apartment?” I pointed at the floor to make sure I’d heard clearly.

Her eyes narrowed and I assume she saw the horror on my face as I pictured the horse relieving itself on her fifty-thousand-dollar wool rug that she’d bragged she’d spent almost a year searching for before she found it and there wasn’t a replica anywhere in the world.

“Of course in the apartment. It’s plenty big enough.” Her arms widened as if I didn’t feel minuscule in the condo.

Normally I thrive on pulling off the impossible when a client has a grand idea for their party, and if we were in the suburbs, I’d be heading to the horse ranches, but this is Manhattan. I can’t snap my fingers and have a horse delivered, stuffed in an elevator to go up fifty-five flights, and then let it loose in a fully furnished apartment.