Free The Next Best Thing by Deidre Berry

walking around with these cute little bags full of goodies. Where mine at?” Blondie said, sucking food out of her teeth.
    â€œMa’am, the gift bags come with a minimum seventy-five dollar purchase,” I said quietly. “Now, if you want one, you can start by paying for that.”
    A red silk blouse was not so discreetly tucked into Blondie’s fake Louis Vuitton Murakami bag.
    â€œHow you know that ain’t mine?” she snapped.
    â€œBecause the tag is sticking out for all to see, and it says Max Mara, one hundred and twenty-five dollars,” I said.
    â€œI can’t stand bitches like you,” said Blondie, nostrils flaring. “What the hell difference does it make to you, anyway? It ain’t like it’s your damn store!”
    â€œIt is for the day. And I understand the anger, sweetheart,” I said with great sympathy. “But listen, why don’t you click your heels two times and you just might find yourself back in Walmart. Okay?”
    â€œFuck you, bitch!” Blondie tossed the shirt in my face, and then stormed out of the boutique as if someone had done her wrong.
    I love my job.
    Â 
    It took three hours for my team and me to put the Max Mara boutique back in its normal order. When we were done, we all went out for cocktails at Tomfooleries, our usual watering hole.
    â€œI wanna propose a toast to Tori,” said Inez from the design department. “The best senior event coordinator Sophie Wilkerson Events will ever see!”
    â€œHear, hear!” they all said in unison.
    â€œWell, I just want to thank you guys for all of your hard work,” I said. “Your creativity and input is invaluable to me in putting these things together, and I appreciated each and every one of you.”
    â€œAwww, we love you too!” Steve teased, which got a big laugh.
    We were all seated around a large table. Erin was to my left, and had been talking my ear off for the last twenty minutes about John, her nutcase of an ex-boyfriend who, truthfully, she should be glad packed up and left.
    â€œI mean, hopefully it’s like Katherine Hepburn said in her A&E biography,” Erin droned on. “‘I saw you could be happy, successful and loved without a husband.’”
    â€œYeah, well that is easy to say when you’re being loved by someone else’s husband.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œThe love of her life, Spencer Tracy, was a married man.”
    â€œHe was?” The astonished look on Erin’s face reminded me of the time I broke Junior’s heart by telling him the Easter Bunny did not exist.
    â€œYeah, sweetie, he was.” I patted her hand, hoping that I looked genuinely sympathetic. “And I know exactly what you’re going through, but the thing is, you simply cannot dwell on it. The best thing to do is completely immerse yourself into something positive, and one of these days you’ll wake up and say: John who?”
    â€œThat’s right!” Erin said, suddenly optimistic. “I mean, look at you.”
    Yeah, look at me. Still faking it until I make it.
    Colin, my caterer, came over and sat on the other side of me, putting an end to that conversation. Thank God.
    â€œExcuse me, ladies, but did we kick ass today, or did we kick ass?” Colin asked, helping himself to my bacon cheddar-cheese fries.
    I raised my glass in a toast. “As always, the food was the star of the show,” I said.
    â€œYeah, great job, Colin,” said Erin.
    â€œA few appetizers are no big deal,” he said modestly. “But getting to work with you, now, that’s the icing on the cake for me.”
    â€œWell, I appreciate that,” I said. “But you know I just love you and your staff to death. You guys make my job so much easier.”
    Colin and I have had a great working relationship for years, and he is a terrific guy who has come through for me in a pinch, time and time