“This is entirely unprofessional, Ms. Taylor. My mother is paying you a lot of money to make this damn party be whatever it is she wishes it to be. When I hire someone to do a job, I expect them to meet the deadlines they have set for themselves. Like I did. I’ve prepared the list of other vendors we will be using like Reagan asked.” She handed Gwen a sheet of paper. “She was supposed to bring cake ideas from your pastry chef. Since you don’t seem to have those, will this put us behind schedule? If so, it won’t be me relaying that message to my mother. It will be you,” Jill said as she pointed at Gwen.

“I understand completely. We have no intention in this causing a delay. It’s just a little hiccup.”

“We’ll see about that. And what was so important that Ms. Murphy needed to cancel on me without giving me proper notification?”

“That’s really not relevant at the moment.”

“I think it is. So?”

Gwen tightly clasped her hands in her lap. “Her fa—” she cleared her throat and continued, “father had a medical emergency. I’d deem that as pretty important.”

Inside, Jill deflated a little. Outwardly, she didn’t react at all. “I see. So, you don’t have any planning updates for me then?” She crossed her arms and stared down at Gwen.

“No.”

“Then you can see yourself out.” Jill sat in her chair and pulled it up to her desk, focusing on her computer screen.

“Very well. We will be in touch soon to reschedule. I’m sorry for the inconvenience this has caused you. It won’t happen again.”

“You’re damn right,” she replied as she leveled a glare at Gwen.

Gwen looked as if she wanted to reply with words that were a little less conciliatory, but she muttered, “Have a good day,” instead and walked out the door.

Well, that seemed a little bitchy, even for me. She reached for her phone and brought up Reagan’s contact info, hitting the icon for a new text message. She stared at the blank screen and reassessed her actions. It wasn’t her place to check in with her. She and Reagan weren’t friends. Or anything really. Vendor and client, that’s all. And while concern for Reagan hovered in the recesses of her mind, she didn’t have time to dwell on the situation. She had her own deadlines, and she wouldn’t stop until she met them.

Chapter Eight