Page 14 of Over the Limit

“As you know, the department has been under some restructuring as of late. Duties have shifted. Then shifted again. Co-workers have been reallocated to other facets of the F1 animal that we are.” Nice speak for people have been let go. “And we’ll most likely continue to be in a state of disarray for a while as budget reallocations take place and needs are reviewed.” Nice speak for and more people will be let go.

“Paolo, you’re killing me here. What does that have to do with me?” I wipe my palms on my pants.

“You’ve been patient with us, and I want you to know that hasn’t gone unnoticed.”

I nod, uncertain what to say.

“How long have you worked for us?”

My pulse pounds in my ears. “For F1 as a whole or this department?” I ask. I spent five years in basic administration with the entity doing every benign, meaningless duty before Paolo hired me.

“This department.”

I eye him. He knows the answer to this, but I respond nonetheless. “Four years.”

“That long, huh?” He nods slowly.

“Yes.” If he takes any longer to explain why he’s asking me these questions, I’m going to chew a hole through my bottom lip.

“Then I think it’s only fair for you to be given the chance to really prove yourself.”

Proving myself could mean a lot of different things.

“As in?”

“As in I think it’s time your name is the one listed beside the event name.”

“What?” I try to remain cool and casual, but the single syllable comes out in a pseudo-shriek. Is he saying what I think he’s saying? “Are you serious?”

His grin grows wider. “In fact, I am. You’ve put in a lot of hard work and long hours to prove your capabilities. You’ve done more than your fair share of crap work and paying your dues. It’s for that reason and so many more that I couldn’t be more thrilled to give you a chance at being an event coordinator.”

Oh. My. God. Every emotion known to man chases one after another through my system.

“I—I don’t even know what to say.”

His chuckle rumbles around the room. “Don’t say anything yet.” He holds up a hand. “There are a few caveats.”

“Like . . .” Why does everything have a catch?

“Like, it’s an interim position. Lisa has opted to take a job with one of the motorsports teams,” he explains, checking each item off on his finger. Her departure comes as a surprise as jobs with Formula 1—the overarching company who owns the trademark to the sport—are extremely desirable and hard to land, but a job with a team is highly coveted too.

“What do you mean Lisa is leaving?” I ask. “She hasn’t said a word.”

“I asked her to keep her departure under wraps until I announced her replacement.”

“Are you telling me that the masquerade ball is mine?” This just keeps getting better.

“I am. If you want it. But that means—”

“That means I have about three months to pull the whole thing off.” And the other shoe drops, but it does nothing to dull the excitement that I’m getting a chance to choreograph one of the most coveted projects in our department. I’ve waited for the chance at any project and to know it’s the ball? Holy shit.

“Correct. But I have complete faith in you and the fact that you can step in seamlessly and pull it together properly.”

“Not a problem. Lisa is meticulous in all she does.” Talk about having to fill some big shoes. Gulp.

“She is. But she also kept a lot of it in her head. And in this interim where she’s one foot out the door, it seems things might not be as up to speed as we’d anticipated or believed them to be.”

“So I’m stepping into a powder keg is what you’re telling me?” I tease, trying to act nonchalant while mentally jumping up and down.