Though the man is a lighting and technical genius, I think its the former rather than the latter. Daves one of those salt-of-the-earth guys who have no idea when it comes to women.

One of these days Ill end up matchmaking, I know it. Because, hell, if I leave it up to these two, Ill still be watching them giggle and guffaw at each other when Im drawing my 401K.

Shaking my head at my own ridiculousness, I open the minivan and climb behind the wheel. Lauren, Amanda, and Williamthe rest of my staffall pop up, various containers in their hands. They stack them in the trunk while I check my email and wait for them to do their thing. Theyve all worked for me long enough to know the score, so I know I can take a breather while they organize the trunk.

The content of my inbox is both a blessing and a curse. I started organizing events as a favor to an old sorority sister, who had more connections than brain synapses and couldnt organize a party to save her life. Word slowly but surely spread after what can only be classed as an epic soiree one night until Id accrued a reputation of my own. One that rivals some of the bigwig firms in the city.

But it isnt my passion. It pays the bills because my other love, fashion design, doesnt.

Every event I organize robs me of the time I need to hone my craft, which is in desperate need of honing, truth be told. Its been a good six weeks since I actually sat down behind the sewing machine, and at least two weeks since I designed anything other than a seating plan for a party on my lists.

Any hope that I can get some serious time behind the sewing machine tomorrow morning disappears at the sight of my inbox. My email boasts three more events: two definites from regular clients and then a third from no other than Marshall Levitt. Not that the email was written by him. God forbid. It was his PA, writing on his behalf. Somehow, I know the job is mine even though hes requested an interview with me. Hell, I wouldnt be surprised if Marshall has conjured up the whole thing simply as an excuse to work with me one-on-one.

As big-headed as that sounds, you have to understand just who Marshall Levitt is. He gets what he wants. Tenacious as a bulldog with a string of sausages being wafted before his nose. In this case, I get the feeling Im the knockwurst.

Though the thought makes me grin, I shrug it off. Im nobodys sausage. Even if Marshall is attractive and one of New Yorks most eligible bachelors, theres a reason hes earned that titlehes perennially single. Undoubtedly, he wants it to stay that way, which means Id only ever be a notch on his bedpost.

With that reasoning, I can calm any qualms I might have about being at the focus of a billionaire tycoons attention.

More events? Jessie asks when theres a lull in her flirting with Dave. She peers over my shoulder and nudges me from thoughts of tech entrepreneurs with more money than sense.

I dont bother to cover my PDA because usually shes the one who wields it, and she does a far better job than me. Yeah. I pass her the phone and, realizing all my crew are in the van, stop idling and set off.

Though its the early hours of the morning, the traffic is still bona fide nuts and requires far more concentration than it should. As I drive, the rest of the crew chats and discusses the eventfor discuss, read bitch about the partygoers, and Christ, theres so much to bitch aboutand Jessie talks to me about the bookings weve just received. Its a testament to how good we both are at our jobs that within a handful of minutes of reading the clients emails were discussing some of the finer details of the proposed parties.

I know when she finally reaches Marshall Levitts email because she blows out a wolf whistle. Considering her mouth is pretty close to my ear, the sound has me jolting and almost swerving the car into the next lane in surprise. What the fuck, Jessie! I holler, getting the car back under control.

Amanda whacks her on the arm. Watch what youre doing, Jess. Christ, are you trying to get us killed?

Im just surprised, thats all! she bursts out defensively. I told you Levitt was looking at you like you were a piece of prime rib and hed been vegan for too long.

Despite my irritation with her, I snicker. Then groan. Dont make me laugh. Im too tired to laugh. And I am. The weariness has settled into my bones until I know the only way forward is for me to climb into bed the instant I get home to sleep it off. Therell be no sewing tonight. Nothing that nurtures my soul rather than my wallet.