CLANDESTINE | HS |

THIRTY THREE

Logan

When it rains it pours.

At least that's what I've always heard.

I've never really been able to experience a period of my life where it felt like everything was falling apart, but this could very well be it.

"I'm sorry, Miss Banks."

My forehead rests against my desk as my phone remains pressed to my ear as I listen to the person on the other line.

"Isn't there anything I can do?" Thinking about it, I know that I'm not above begging. "Name your price, I'll pay it."

A long sigh sounds over the receiver. "There isn't anything that I can do— my hands are tied. Once again, we apologize for the inconvenience and hope that one day in the future we can provide services for you. Have a great day."

The distinct click signals the end of the call and I'll be damned if my eyes don't fill with tears as I sit at my desk.

Defeated.

Of all of the things that could have fallen apart, I did not expect the catering for the gala I've worked tirelessly to prepare for to fall through. That was the one thing I felt like had been secured and didn't need to worry about.

Wrong.

Now it'll be a mad scramble to find someone who would be willing to cater and serve over two hundred people.

It's fine, everything is fine.

My entire life I've worked well under pressure and strived to prove that in those moments nothing could force me to bend or even slightly consider giving up.

When I was tasked with planning the most important event of the year of course I faced it head one, not once ever thinking it wasn't something I didn't want to do.

Except for this exact moment.

Taking a moment for myself with my eyes closed, I take a deep breath in through my nose and let it out through my mouth.

Opening my eyes and taking in my surroundings makes it easier to ground my thoughts. Seeing the office I've earned from my hard work and even seeing the bouquet of peonies that were delivered yesterday remind me that I am capable... Even when something makes me feel like I'm not.

Typing out an email to update my boss on the situation, I immediately start doing research on other companies who might possibly be able to cater the event within a month and a half's notice.

When I first started getting everything together it felt like time couldn't come fast enough. It was almost as if the gala was so far away that it would never come. Now it felt as if it was right around the corner— like I needed for time to slow down just enough so that I could make sure every single detail was perfect.

I wanted to make myself proud but I also wanted to make my mom proud.

Granted that's something she tells me almost daily.

In some weird way it was like I knew how sick she was and part of me wanted this to be something to look back on, a moment where I had more time with her just in case there wasn't much time left.

Her team of doctors still hadn't been able to find medications for her that would work, each one they had tried since her trial started failing didn't make a difference.

As of right now she seemed to spend most of her time in bed or trying to convince everyone else that she was fine — that we didn't need to worry about her.