The Moment of Letting Go - J. A. Redmerski Page 0,1

like these.

As the plane takes off, I grip the arms of my seat so tight it feels like my fingernails could pierce the hard plastic. Breathe, Sienna. Just breathe. Paige is sitting next to me with a big smile that I assume is supposed to be her way of saying, See, there’s nothing to it—look at me. I’m not afraid. She means well, she really does, but like a lot of people, she just doesn’t understand the fear.

I close my eyes and listen to the rain, picturing myself sitting on land, watching the droplets fall all around me and sink into the earth. And I think about my twenty-two years of life as if it’s my last chance to be intimate with my happiest memories.

Six hours later I’m on Oahu in one of the most beautiful places in the world. And I’m still alive. I’m equally excited and disappointed to be here—excited because, well, it’s Oahu, disappointed because I’m not here to inhale the beauty of the island or spend days photographing it as I’d always dreamed, but instead to work my butt off arranging someone else’s wedding. But I can’t complain. The trip is fully paid for and not a lot of people can say they’ve even been to Hawaii, much less went on someone else’s dime—I’m a lucky girl.

“I’m so excited!” Paige says over the buzzing of conversations in the airport. “Our first time in Hawaii. It’s going to be awesome.”

Paige reaches out a ring-decorated hand for my duffel bag. “When we get to the hotel I’ll get you checked in and make sure your room is up to par.” She’s trying so hard to play the assistant—carrying one of my bags for me, pretending she’s not my best friend, speaking to me in a sort of proper way that just comes off as weird to me.

I laugh. “Up to par? I’m not Cassandra,” I remind her. “No need for a white-glove inspection or phrases that aren’t typically part of your vocabulary.”

Paige grins, shoulders my duffel bag, and then slides the handles out from one of my two rolling suitcases, in addition to her own.

“What, no servant waiting on hand to dispose of your chewed gum?” she jokes.

I laugh with disbelief. “Tell me Cassandra didn’t do that—though I wouldn’t put it past her.”

Paige shrugs. “Nah. I read that somewhere and immediately thought of Miz Harrington.” Her pale blue eyes flutter as she raises her head high and mimics Cassandra’s dramatic personality.

We make our way outside into the perfect summer Hawaiian breeze to find a cab. While I’m standing on the sidewalk, my cell phone buzzes around inside my purse, and I fish it out just in time before the voice mail picks up.

“I got a call from Mrs. Dennings. She couldn’t get ahold of you. I guess your phone was off,” Cassandra says into my ear as Paige waves at a cab making its way toward us. “They’ll be there later tonight, but she said you can go ahead and start without her. The bride’s sister—her name is Veronica—is already there.”

The cab stops and the driver gets out to help Paige store our bags in the trunk.

I slide into the backseat.

“How late did Mrs. Dennings say they’d be?” I close the cab door and adjust myself on the squeaky leather seat. “I can’t do much until she gets here with the rest of the supplies.”

“She didn’t say,” Cassandra answers. “But do what you can with what you have.”

A smile warms my face as sudden thoughts of non-work-related ideas begin to materialize in my mind.

“Well, maybe I’ll get to relax and have a look around before they get here with everything,” I suggest, hopeful.

“Perhaps,” she says simply, as if she were telling me in her most cultured and sympathetic way, No dear. I’m sorry, but that’s not possible, though you may continue dreaming about it if it makes you feel better.

I knew that before I came here; there’s no such thing as relaxing when you work as an event coordinator for the most high-profile event planning business in California. One hundred percent of Cassandra’s clients are wealthy, half of them are famous, and the rest are people who know someone famous. There’s a lot of money in it, but it’s very demanding and often so stressful that most who get into the business quit within the first month—at least, those who work for Cassandra Harrington do, anyway.

I still can’t believe I lucked into this job with all its perks.