“I didn’t want to freak out too soon, but I didn’t have any of your notes for the Midnight Madness—Locals Helping the Elderly fund-raiser,” Katie said. “We’re three weeks out and I need to know if we still have room for a couple more sponsors. I was contacted by three big restaurants just a few days ago. Have all the sponsors submitted their logos for the event program?”
Grace nodded. “Of course we have room, but we’ll need their logos immediately. The print deadline is the day after tomorrow. I double-checked that the sponsors have turned their logos in, that’s taken care of. Have Audrey personally get the logos from the three restaurants. We’ve kept the budget down to allow more of the funds to go to the organization and I don’t want any last-minute glitches like a late printing.”
Vittorio liked the way his woman spoke with complete assurance. She had complete confidence in herself and it was there in her voice. He managed to keep his expression blank and continued to feign interest in his phone.
“How many programs are we printing?”
“Mrs. Ferraro insisted this be kept small and intimate, as in five hundred invitations went out. Each person invited could bring one guest, so we’re printing up one thousand fifty programs to be safe. Few people ever turn down a private invitation from the Ferraros. I do have extra security coming, but that was budgeted in. The programs are numbered, and we can use those numbers for the live silent auction.”
Katie typed into her notepad. “What about the auctioneer? Has he been hired?”
Grace nodded. “I’m using the same one we did last year. He was a big hit and didn’t charge nearly as much as that pompous Fred Manson. That man spent more time eyeing the women than he did working.”
Katie flashed a smile. “I have to agree there. The more he drank, the more handsy he got. How many live auction items do we have?”
“We have seven very nice packages, one huge one, very attractive, that will command quite a bit of bidding, and two smaller ones that are still going to bring in a nice amount. We’ll have the smaller two go first, building to the largest last. We want them to spend their money, Katie. That’s why they’re there.”
“They’re there to rub shoulders with the Ferraros,” Katie whispered. “And now, because of your engagement, they’ll want to go just to see you with Vittorio.”
“Well, they won’t. I’ll be working. On the day of the event, I have to be ready to take care of all the problems.”
He knew both women were looking at him, so Vittorio kept his gaze glued to the screen of his phone.
“Have you seen Eloisa?” Katie’s voice dropped even more.
Grace shook her head. “No.”
“She called me multiple times and I know it wasn’t about the fund-raiser. I managed to avoid talking to her, but I can’t forever. She’s going to want a confirmation that you’ve been seeing Vittorio.”
“If she does ask, just tell her that we kept things secret to avoid the tabloids.”
“I don’t envy you having to deal with her on a daily basis. I’m afraid she’s going to be really ugly to you at the event. You know how she loves to publicly rip someone to shreds. She’ll do it, Grace. You know she will.”
“Vittorio isn’t going to let that happen,” Grace said.
Vittorio liked the confidence in her voice, but she was beginning to sound tired. He looked up. There was a bit of sheen on her skin. She was sweating. Her face had gone from pale to an almost grayish tinge.
“Eloisa is his mother. Boys always stick up for their mothers,” Katie said, absolute conviction in her voice.
“I made certain to talk to the various donors about each item already, so I have confidence that there is interest in the items and we can get some lively bidding going,” Grace said, trying to get Katie back on track. “And all the table items are numbered and ready to be laid out in order.”
“We have to talk about the possibility of Eloisa making a scene in the middle of our event and how we’ll handle it,” Katie insisted. “You can’t just pretend it won’t happen. She can be vicious, and it will ruin our fund-raiser.”
“It’s her fund-raiser. If she ruins it—”
“She’ll blacklist us, Grace. No one will care that it isn’t our fault.”
“We have so many things to discuss, Katie.”
Vittorio stood up and pocketed his phone. “Katie, Grace is tired and needs to rest. I’m sorry we’re going to have to call it a day, but you can come back tomorrow if you’d like. Give Merry a time and we’ll fit you in.”
“We’re nowhere near finished,” Grace said.
“I know that, gattina, but you’re finished.” He circled her waist. “Put your hand on my shoulder. When you stand, it’s going to hurt like hell.”