"This is different." Her shoulders tensed.
"Different beneficially, or the opposite?"
"What did she think?"
"Who, Ms. Holton?"
"Yes, Ms. Holton." He gave her another one of those demeaning looks; the type that would make you shrink in your seat.
"She really liked it. She said this outline didn't need any changes." He seemed irritated, holding up the frame to the sunlight, as if the transparency would alter the image."But of course, you're thoughts are just as valuable. Please feel free to make any changes."
"I do have some changes." She clicked her pen once and cleared a page in the planner.
"Ok. What are your suggestions?"
"First of all, everything seems a little too blue and white."
"Yes, but that's kind of the idea of the piece." She attempted to formulate her sentences in the politest way. "What I'm getting at is, a general a Winter Wonderland refers to_"
"I know what it is."
"I'm sorry Mr. Bolton I was just_" His stare cut her off. "Alright, I'll make sure some of the main colors are taken out. Where exactly do you want them replaced?"
"A little everywhere."
"I don't understand." She faced him, confused.
"You know, just a little here and there." He pointed to insignificant positions on the portfolio. None were specific; his fingers only danced around the image.
"I'm not sure I understand what you want changed, exactly?"
"Just take the blue off the main area, then the white off everywhere else." What?
"I uh… Mr. Bolton_"
"Oh, I'm sure you'll figure it out sooner or later." His eyes focused on hers. "You are the best, aren't you?" Was he playing with her? Was this meeting a serious matter, or just for his amusement? At the moment, she couldn't decipher his actions.
"I guess so." Don't do this Gabbs. Stop the 'intimidation act'! She told herself. Back to confident, professional Gabriella. "Back to the portfolio, are there any other changes you would like to suggest for the designer?"
"What exactly do you mean by suggest? Will my changes not be carried out?"
"Well, first I would have to consult the designer and see how he'd adjust his work_"
"Would he not change it if I demanded him to? This is my wedding after all."
"I'm positive he'd make some alterations. But, we'd also have to factor in your fiancé's opinions of the piece." He paused, seeming to take her last sentence into consideration.
"What were her opinions again?"
"She was very elated about it. Again, she didn't think changes were necessary." This was another thing that perplexed her. "Were you not aware of her thoughts beforehand?" How she hoped that her question wasn't rude!
"We never got around to it."
"I see. That's perfectly fine, though. Now you are aware. Next, for the flowers." She pulled out three cards. "These are the three best companies in the area, if not all of Albuquerque. They each breed more than 75 species of flowers."
"Whew. That's a lot of options." She smiled.
"Exactly, the plan is to narrow them down. To start, what are Ms. Holton's favorite flowers?"
"Tulips." He responded automatically. She wrote it down.
"Does she have a second?" She turned to him after seconds of unanswered silence.
"Mr. Bolton?"
"What are your favorite flowers?"
"Mine? I don't know, roses?" She answered, clearly caught off guard. He muttered something incomprehensible.
"Excuse me?"
"That's typical." She held her anger in over the comment. Keep the attitude back Gabriella! Bite your tongue!
"Anyway, what did you say her second choice was?"
"So are these roses brought daily to your office, and on your order?" She dropped her pen.
"Of course not daily."
"Oh, so once a week then?"
"I don't see why that's any of your concern_"
"So do you demand them from the poor guy, or is he willing?" She folded her arms and scowled. He'd crossed the line.
"That's none of your business. I would appreciate if we got back to the Florist options." He ran fingers through his hair and smirked.
"I'm sorry." She uncrossed her arms.
"It's alright. Now_"
"I shouldn't assume too positively. You are a self-claimed workaholic right?" It didn't take much to understand what he meant.
"This meeting's over." She stood, shoving random items into her bag, and exited the restaurant. All sorts of words came to her, describing his current personality, and none were positive. Surprisingly, she heard rushed foot steps behind her.
"Wait!" She turned so suddenly that they almost collided.
"What could you require now?"
"Wow, robotic speech. Forgot how to speak like a normal_"
"What do you want?" Her voice was louder than usual. It wiped the smirk off of his face.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" He lifted the portfolio in front of her face. She nearly snatched it from his hand.
"Thank you Mr. Bolton."
"You're welcome, Gabriella." Her eyes widened at the sound of her first name. The smirk returned to his face. "Keep that safe." He opened the door of his car and slid in. "You'll need something to refer to when you make my changes." Her fingers dug into her palm to stop her from yelling. She scowled at the retreating car, and her expression remained until it turned the corner.
"I see the locks aren't changed."
" Not yet. But don't be fooled, if you ever hang up on me like that again," Her roommate gave her 'the look' and Gabriella immediately understood. "So how was the meeting anyway?"
"It's was satisfactory. We got a lot done."
"Oh really?"
"Absolutely." She lied. "The lunch was truly professional." Patricia's stare was suspicious, and for a split second Gabriella thought she'd call her out.
"For his sake, every future meeting you guys have should be the same way." Gosh, I hope not!
"Me too. I really think he's coming around."
"He better." As Patricia headed to her room, Gabriella ran her fingers through her hair in relief. If only her roommate new the day she really had. Then, their last conversation wouldn't have ended on such a pleasant note. She inwardly shook her head. That couldn't happen, because that would only prove her roommate right. That last thing Gabriella needed was for her to gloat.
She glanced at the portfolio in disgust. "It's perfect. Screw his suggestions. He's only doing that to annoy me." In that moment, she'd made up her mind. She would not revisit the designer. If he didn't like the final product, then it wouldn't be her fault. Sorry to disappoint you, Troy. She sauntered to her room, feeling happier now, than she had all week. Note to self, the client either/always: has a nervous breakdown, begs for your help and/or full out praises you. Not the other way around. She closed her door and smirked. Note to self #2: You're Gabriella Montez, Wedding Planner. Enough said.