“Vivian! Hello!” she said, holding out her hand for me to shake. Her palm was warm and dry and she gave me a calm and collected smile. She needed to share some of that composure because I was starting to quake in my fantastic pumps.

“Nice to see you! And five minutes early as well! Great start!” she complimented, releasing my hand and gesturing toward the hallway she had come from. I didn’t feel the need to explain that I had broken several traffic laws in getting here.

“I like to make a good first impression,” I said demurely, hiding my trembling hands behind my back and trying to choke the fluttering butterflies in my stomach.

“Impression is everything,” Marion said with a nod, leading me into a spacious office. “Have a seat.” She indicated a comfortable looking chair as she took her place behind a massive desk made from dark, shiny wood.

“There’s a lot to go over. Normally you’d have at least a week to settle into your position. There’s orientation and paperwork. However, some extenuating circumstances are going to change the course of your probationary period.”

“Extenuating circumstances?” I asked, not liking the sound of that at all.

Marion gave me a pained smile. “I’m going to be throwing you into the deep end I’m afraid. We are horribly short staffed right now so unfortunately you’re going to be getting your hands-on training a lot faster than normal.” God, did she have to sound so ominous about it?

Marion folded her hands and leaned back in her chair. “I know from looking over your resume that you have some event planning experience. But I’m sure nothing to this scale.” She didn’t say it condescendingly. It was just the facts. And the truth. I nodded in agreement.

“I planned most of my sorority’s functions and I was involved in event planning at the country club back home in high school. But no, nothing like this. Though I’m a quick learner and I’m more than ready to jump in with both feet,” I told her with more confidence than I actually felt. The team player cliché seemed to do the trick.

Marion gave me a smile full of relief.

“I’m so glad to hear that. Our last Event Coordinator left us in a bit of a lurch. She decided running off with her boyfriend to Europe was more important than giving notice at her job. I am pretty easygoing, Vivian. But I don’t tolerate unprofessional behavior and lack of courtesy. And most of all I expect respect and consideration,” she stated firmly, sizing me up.

I found myself nodding again. “Absolutely. These things are essential. It’s important not to burn bridges,” I babbled. I was going to be responsible. I was going to be competent. I was going to nail this job if it killed me!

Vivian reached across the great expanse of her desk and patted the top of my hand like a kindly grandmother. “You and I are going to get along just fine.” My relief made me sag.

Marion passed me a folder of paperwork to fill out before taking me on a tour of the center.

She showed me the beautiful concert hall decorated in red velvet and dark wood. The acoustics were amazing and I wanted to yell at the top of my lungs to see what it would sound like. But I didn’t think prim and proper Marion would approve.

The Opera House was slightly larger and more ostentatious. The marble etchings on the wall were almost overwhelming and standing in the back of the grand room made me wonder what it would be like to attend an event there. To get dressed up and socialize in a setting that didn’t involve mosh pits.

The much smaller Wheat Theater was a complete contradiction to the rest of the building. It was almost modern with straight, clean lines and an almost non-descript stage area.

When we were finished with the tour, we returned to the foyer to find a small group of four people waiting.

Marion turned to me and gave me a smile. “I told you that you’d be thrown into the deep end today.” She gestured toward the group who were talking amongst themselves. “This is your deep end.”

I felt myself go pale. “What do you mean?” I asked, trying not to panic.

“They are from the Kimble Greenhouse Project. They are planning a large gala to benefit their charity. This will be the gala’s third year. You will be managing this event.”

“Me?” I squeaked, trying to resist the urge to run screaming from the building. The likelihood of crashing and burning became increasingly more likely. I thought I was ready for responsibility and all that other crap but I was beginning to think I was very wrong.

I didn’t like pressure. It gave me hives. I preferred the whole, no expectations and you won’t get hurt thing. Huh. Maybe Cole and I were more a like than I thought.

Marion patted my back. “I’ll go and get the files from the previous years so you can see what was done before. Just talk with them. Find out their ideas, what they want. Take some notes. Then we can sit down and go through everything. I’ll help you as much as I can, but given how few of us are here right now, I can’t walk you through it the way I normally would. This is your trial by fire, Vivian.” Marion inclined her head toward the group.

“Theo Anderson is the public relations chair at KGP. He’ll be your point of contact. Now let’s head over there so I can introduce you. You’ll be fine.” I was glad Marion had such faith in my abilities. But then again, she didn’t know me yet. Sure, I was no dummy, but I wasn’t sure a whole lot of credence could be given to my ability to not fall on my ass.

I plastered a smile on my face. The same smile I wore during each and every rush event. I figured I could imagine that I was getting ready to chat up a bunch of vapid freshmen hoping to get into my sorority. And if that didn’t work, I’d just picture them in their underwear.