Page 45

He looked around the ballroom. His expression held none of the frantic concentration that had marked the build. He could see the room now.

Clients often saw an event for the first time after guests entered it. Before that, they saw individual anxieties. Seating. Donor names. Menu changes. Whether blue was the correct blue. Once the doors opened, the parts became a whole and they behaved as if the whole had arrived by agreement.

“You did it,” he said.

“The team did.”

“Yes, the team.” He nodded. “And you.”

“Particularly catering. They recovered the meal-count change without affecting service.”

“Priya.”

“Registration also processed arrivals six minutes faster than projection.”

“Stop.”

I stopped.

He smiled, but kindly. No impatience in it.

That was worse.

“The room is beautiful,” he said. “Everything has gone exactly as you said it would.”

“Nothing goes exactly as anyone says it will.”

“This did.”

He looked at me for a moment.

I checked my watch.

“Stand by,” I said into the radio.

Replies came from lights, audio, video, and stage management.

All standing.

Ansel lowered his voice. “You know the museum gave me four names for this.”

“Competent firms.”

“I’m sure they are.”

“They are.”

“I gave them yours anyway.” He turned his glass a quarter turn on the tray beside him. “Same as I’d have done three years ago.”

My grip tightened on the clipboard.

He meant it kindly.

The words crossed the narrow distance between us and entered somewhere they had not been invited.

Trusted.

Not capable. Not efficient. Not exhausting but useful.