Ring. Ring. Ring. "If she doesn't answer that phone, I promise I'm going to take that blond hair and...”, Kresley began to mutter. At that moment Grace decided to answer in her usual sing-song voice that she only used for work.
"This is Grace. How can I help you this evening?"
"Grace, why in the world do you answer the phone like that when you know it's me", Kresley asked irritably. “You sound like a phone sex operator”.
"Well first of all, thank you. I didn’t know my voice had the power to seduce even you Kres. Let me know if you figure out how I can use it to find myself a good man one of these days, okay? And I thought you said you lost all sexual interest of any kind after your last failure at dating. What was his name again? Eugene? Whatever possessed you to click on his name on that dating app and agree to go out on a blind-ass date is beyond me. I also answered that way because I know it's you and I know why you're calling and no, I will not apologize for trying to clean up that dump you call a desk. You are a borderline hoarder. Not TV show worthy just yet, but you’re getting closer". Grace sounded both smug, loving and bitchy, all at the same time. God love her, she was perfect for what Kresley needed in her business and personal life as a friend.Real.
Kresley opened her mouth to say something crass and not at all fit for children's ears, when Grace plowed right over her words like they were tissue paper under running water.
"What can't you find?" Grace asked.
"I can't find the Smith-Truett invoice for the flowers. The $24,000 invoice for flowers. What did you do with it?"
Grace gave a heavy sigh over the phone and then began to mumble under her breath. Kresley caught words like Jesus help me and Lord only you can keep me sane, realizing Grace was sending up a prayer for help. "Think for a sec, Kres. I have not had the pleasure, and I use that term loosely, to work any details of Lana Smith's wedding. Thank the Lord. You've kept those wedding plans a secret since you had them sign the contract and you had to sign that NDA. Your Cheeto stained fingers are the only ones who would have touched it. Did you check with Francie or Birdie?"
Kresley growled something under her breath and stated, "No, and no. They don’t do the wedding events so there isn’t a need. Where in the damn-hell would I have left it then?" Feeling totally stressed out, Kres picked up a stress ball and started to squeeze as hard as she could.
"Probably in that trash can you call a car," Grace sweetly chirped. Yeah, sweet, as in saccharine. Kresley sighed, rubbing her head as a headache tried to sneak up on her.
After digging under tablecloth sample boards, Kresley finally located her keys. "I'm keeping you on speakerphone while I walk outside to check my car. That alley always gives me the creeps. Is that okay?", she asked already knowing the answer Grace would give her. Kresley was used to working after everyone else left for the day, but she didn’t venture out to her car by herself unless it was to get in and drive home.
"You don't even need to ask that question. I'm here," Grace stated.
She may speak her mind too much and be too opinionated, but there was one thing Kresley knew for sure about Grace Puckett. She could always be counted on.
Kresley snickered to herself as she recalled the day that she met Grace. She had been interviewing people all day for the assistant position that had opened up abruptly, thanks to her sister, Birdie. Kresley and Birdie’s other two sisters, Francie and Gertie, all shared duties at their family’s event planning business. Kresley did 98% of the weddings and her sisters took on the other types of events that came to their business’ doorstep, like fundraisers, business luncheons, government parties, etc. Birdie was also the main photographer, taking pictures of the weddings as well as the other events when needed. Work was always an eventful day when all four of them graced the building at the same time, along with Grace.
Which is exactly why an assistant for Kres abruptly quit one morning when Birdie sarcastically told her to use less wind tunnel next time that she teased her hair and also told her the 80s were calling and wanted their hair do back. After many tears, cuss words and a flip of the bird finger, the frazzled assistant had marched out the front door and Kres found herself without an important part of her work life…organization and stress management. Birdie merely shrugged her shoulders at Kresley’s irritation and said that the girl shouldn’t be so sensitive about structured criticism. Birdie always led first with her mouth, then with her brain. She was born with no filter and said exactly what she thought, mostly at the time she thought it. Birdie was sarcastic, sharp as a tack, and didn’t take crap from anyone, man or woman. It was something Kres both admired and cringed daily about. Kresley was also a smart-ass when life called for it, but her temper could get the best of her if she allowed it, so she tried really hard to reign in her words and thought before speaking.
Birdie knew she had messed up later that afternoon when she found herself covered from head to toe in what she calls “Satan’s sparkles”. Kresley had rigged a glitter bomb to go off in Birdie’s car
