From my vantage point at the back of the ballroom, I can see the entire room. The staff at Haven is second to none. Getting to organize events here is like conducting a world class orchestra.

The bride and groom make their entrance. The lead singer of the band they hired introduces them as Mr. & Mrs., and welcomes them to the floor for their first dance. The chandeliers glitter overhead, sending sparkling rays of light across the ballroom as the music swells.

As soon as this dance is finished, our waiters will serve all but the main table. Their table will be served once the parent dances are complete. Everything, every single aspect of this wedding reception was in disarray when I took over.

From the moment I wake, until I collapse into bed each night, I've worked like a dog to get everything organized again, this time ensuring that Haven’s future events are all set. The event spaces of Haven are booked over a year in advance.

When my three weeks are up, all of Haven’s future events will be organized and documented in a way that any decent event planner can take over.

“Paige?”

I turn to see Rasmus, Fiona’s personal assistant. “Hi Rasmus.”

Rasmus, like Fiona, was a model before he became her assistant. My theory is she hired him for an excuse to look at him all day. He’s not only gorgeous but Estonian as well. His English is perfect but he still has an accent. I can't lie, I love to hear him talk.

“The reception appears to be going well,” he says, looking past me to where the bride and groom are dancing.

“This one is. Now, there's a wedding anniversary on the roof I need to check on. Want to walk with me?”

He nods. “I can think of nothing else I'd rather do.”

He’s made no move to hide the fact that he wants in my pants. Too bad I'm holding out for a hot as hell reclusive carpenter who gives good lake.

But, he's still nice to look at and listen to.

“I'm surprised you're still here,” I say as we walk.

“Fiona’s flight lands in thirty. She’s bringing some friends with her who will be using the VIP suites this weekend. They're skipping check in but I'm playing bellhop for the party. Once they're settled, I'm meeting some people in Soho. Would you like to join us?”

We take the freight elevator up to the roof. “Not tonight, I still have work to do.”

He shakes his head. “You say that every night.”

And I'll continue to.

When the doors slide open, I step out first. Haven has tiered roofs. The first, a large outdoor area with retractable awnings, and the second, a private smaller deck with a pool and hot tub for VIP guests. The third roof is for utility components that service the top third of the hotel. Components for the rest of the hotel are in the basement.

It's a beautiful night; an early afternoon storm cooling off what was a sweltering day. Fairy lights are wound around poles scattered across the roof, mimicking the stars above. From this height, even the bustle and noise of the city below is dulled.

A pianist’s fingers dance across the keys of a baby grand piano. One it took an act of God, and my skills, to get up here for this event. Heavy hors d'oeuvres have already been served to the fifty-six guests in attendance while the celebrating couple dance.

“You've outdone yourself,” Rasmus says from behind me.

“Paige. Thank God you're here. Mrs. Sinhason has requested a change to the dessert menu. She's doing a no sugar, no dairy, vegan diet.”

“On it,” I reply, lifting my phone.

Last minute changes happen. Sure, it'd be ideal to have more than an hour to fix this disaster. That's why I have a contingency plan for everything, and the contact info of all the best chefs close by on speed dial.

It takes fifteen minutes and a promise to offer three cake options on all of our wedding cake tasting appointments for the next three months to get a replacement dessert option for the Sinhason’s and their fifty-six guests.

“Crisis averted,” I say, slipping my phone back into the pocket of my little black dress.

Why don't more dresses have pockets? They're absolute lifesavers when you don't want to carry a purse.

“I can see why Fiona was set on having you,” Rasmus replies.

I decide against sharing the only reason I was able to pull this miracle off was because everyone wants an in at Haven. Sure, this chef is doing me a favor tonight, but having his cakes added to our selections will benefit him more in the long run.

“You can call me Super Paige,” I say.

His eyes roam over my face before moving to the pianist. “Can I have this dance, Super Paige?”

I shake my head. “Maybe another time. I need to update our bridal cake menus.”

Waving down the server who gave me the diet change, I let her know additional dessert options will be arriving shortly. She gives me a grateful nod before going to share the news.

Rasmus follows me back to the elevator. “That can't wait until tomorrow?”

I give him a look. “Would Super Paige procrastinate?”

He chuckles coming in to stand beside me. “I suppose not.”

We ride all the way back down to the first floor together and then head off in our separate ways.

The menus are updated and I'm checking emails when the next disaster strikes.

“Paige, it’s Mr. Knight. He's on line three and needs to speak to you right away.”

Mr. Knight, as in CEO of Shining Armor Corp, as in one of our biggest clients. His paparazzi stalked family has their own reality show they're so famous. In one week, his middle daughter is getting married here in what everyone is saying will be the event of the year.

Lucky for me, the family has their own personal planner on retainer, or so I thought. What could he possibly need to speak to me about?

Grabbing my desk phone, I press line three. “Hello Mr. Knight. This is Paige.”

“Each member of my family has said their wedding vows under the same wooden arch going back three generations. It was badly damaged during shipment. We need it repaired or Berry is calling the wedding off.”

No hello at all? Well shit.

“I know someone who can fix it,” I reply, crossing my fingers and toes that Asher will do it.

He’s the best carpenter in the business and has made it clear that he wants to be with me. He gave me a cabin, would fixing an arch be that bad? I wouldn’t want him to think I was using him though.

“I'll have my men deliver it and some photos of it before it was damaged,” Mr. Knight replies before ending the call.

Pulling the phone from my ear, I stare at it a beat before setting it back in its cradle. Is it too late to call him now?

Reaching into my pocket, I trace the outer edge of my cell, touching it but not committing to taking it out.

The worst he could do is say no, I decide, tugging my phone out and calling him before I can change my mind.

“Hey,” he answers and just the sound of his voice calms my nerves.

“Hey Asher,” I reply.

“Are you already done for the night?” he asks.

“Not even close,” I admit.

“Is everything alright?”

Okay, here goes. “It's the reason I called. I need to ask you something.”

There's a pause before he says anything, a pause long enough that I start to fiddle with the seam of my dress.

“If it's within my power to do, I will,” he replies.

Those words sear through me, straight to my core and settle there.

“Asher,” I whisper, my nose stinging.

“Lay it on me, what can I do?”

I tell him everything and I'm not surprised he has absolutely no idea who Mr. Knight or his family is. In fact, I love him for it.

I love him.

I love Asher Thompson.

“I'll load up my tools and hit the road tonight,” he replies once he knows everything.

“You don't have to leave tonight,” I lie, wanting to see him so bad it hurts.

“And wait to see you?” he asks.

Heat pools in my belly at the thought. I can't wait to see him, either.

Smiling to myself, I reply, “Hurry,” and then add, “but drive safe because it'll really suck if you get in an accident.”

He laughs. “Fair enough.”

“Thank you so much Asher. I can't tell you what this means to me.”

“You can thank me with a kiss when you see me.”

I decide against telling him he's going to get a lot more than a kiss. “Deal.”

After we hang up I hug my phone to my chest, wishing it was him.

I don't have long to rest; I still have work to do tonight. Pushing away from my desk, I slip my phone back into my pocket, letting my hand linger on it as I leave my office. Stopping by the front desk, I add Asher as a guest to my room.

“Is he your boyfriend?” Giselle asks, leaning over the front desk and grinning from ear to ear.

Since I'm not sure what we are officially, I nod but keep my mouth shut.

“I can't wait to see what he looks like since he's got to be the reason you've been turning Rasmus down.”

Boy, do I wish I could be a fly on the wall when he gets here. Rasmus may be sexy as hell but he's got nothing on Asher.

“You're in for a treat,” I reply.

“Oh, what does he look like?” she asks.

I shake my head and give her a little finger wave.

“Come on,” she calls after me.

I giggle to myself as I head to the ballroom. Once I've confirmed there's nothing I need to do there, I make my way back to the roof.

Two of the waiters are smoking by the elevator. They quickly put out their cigarettes and get back to work when they see me. It's been years since I've had a drag. That doesn't mean I don't longingly stare at their discarded butts.

Forcing myself to walk away, I hurry over to the tables to see how our replacement dessert is faring.

“It's a hit,” one of our waiters says as I approach before I even have time to ask.

“That's great news.”

The rest of my night is split between both events, just to ensure things continue to run smoothly.

“A little bird told me you have a friend joining you tonight.”

Spinning around, I say, “Fiona, I didn't hear you.”

How she can walk across these marble floors in spiked heels without making a sound is nothing short of magical.

“So, who’s the guy?”

“Is it cool he shares my room? I didn't think to ask first.”

She waves her hand. “Of course, after you spill on who he is. Last I heard you were dating that Gregor guy.”

I cringe. “Ugh, please don't remind me. What did I ever see in him?”

“Yeah, he's a douche. Was he at least good in bed?”

Making a so-so motion with my hand, I say, “meh.”

“A douche and meh in bed, what were you thinking?” she asks, nose scrunching up in distaste.

“He was an accessory for the life I thought I wanted,” I reply.

She studies my face. “And this new guy?”

I hold her gaze, my lips tipping up. “He's the real deal.”

Reaching for my arm, she links it with her own. “I'm going to need more than that.”

Laughing with her, I don’t hesitate to tell her a little more about the man I’m slowly falling for. “His name is Asher. He's unlike anyone I've ever met. He lives in New Hampshire in the gorgeous house he built himself on a lake. He dropped everything and is coming here right now to fix this arch Mr. Knight is adamant needs to be a part of the ceremony.”

Dropping my arm, she moves in front of me and grips both of my shoulders. “Are you saying he's some honest to God lumberjack?”

“I've never seen him chop down a tree but I'm sure he could,” I reply.

“How’s he in bed?”

I consider admitting we haven't actually done the deed or bragging about his... log.

“Don't hold out on me,” she pleads.

“We haven't slept together,” I admit.

She squints at me. “What's he going to do, sleep on the floor?”

I shake my head. “We were getting to the good stuff when you called.”

She gasps, pressing a hand to her chest. “I cockblocked you?”

I burst out laughing. “It's okay.”

“It most certainly is not. I'm having a romance basket of goodies sent up to your room and you are forbidden from leaving that room until you're both thoroughly laid.”

I've never considered Fiona a friend before now and I wonder how differently things would have gone the last time I was in New York if I had. “You don't have to.”

She shrugs. “I know I don’t, that’s what makes it fun.”

Fiona walks away before I can say anything else. If there's someone who has perfected a grand exit, it's her.

The rest of the night drags by as I check the time on my phone twice a minute, every minute until the wedding reception and anniversary parties are both in their clean up phases.

With the exception of the last-minute dessert change, and a drunken bridesmaid who needed to be cut off and put to bed, both events went smoothly. After a farewell to the cleanup crew, I head to my room. I've been on my feet dashing between each all night, not to mention the planning consultations I had beforehand. I need to shower and change before Asher gets here.

I see the gift basket Fiona had sent up the moment I open the door to my suite. Considering its size, it'd be hard to miss. My eyes bug when I see its contents. This is not the standard romance basket, this one is way naughtier.

Condoms, lubricant, edible panties, massage oil, furry handcuffs, X-rated truth or dare cards, and a blindfold are in it. With a laugh, I stash it in a closet so Asher doesn't think I have nothing but sex on my mind.

Granted, I do have sex on my mind but I’d be happy just to hold him tonight. After my shower, I opt against reapplying my makeup and change into yoga pants and a t-shirt. If there's one thing I know about Asher, it's that fancy clothes and makeup don't impress him.

Sprawling out across my bed, I wait for him. I make it all of five minutes before I pass out.