"Elena, we can't just set the plates on the bare wood," her assistant, Marcus, whispered, looking at the skeletal long-tables. "It looks like a high-end cafeteria."
The scent of vanilla-bourbon candles was the only thing keeping Elena sane. As the lead designer for "The Golden Gala," the city’s most prestigious charity event, she had exactly four days to transform a cold, cavernous warehouse into a Tuscan sunset.
Thirty-six hours later, a semi-truck backed into the warehouse. Elena watched as the crew unstacked crate after crate of the heavy glass. As the sun began to dip, she placed the first obsidian charger onto the dark oak table. She set a white bone-china plate on top of it, followed by a sprig of dried lavender.
Everything was perfect—the peonies were blooming on cue, the linens were a crisp ivory—until the "Great Porcelain Disaster" of Tuesday morning. A shipping crate from her usual supplier had arrived containing nothing but fine white dust and jagged ceramic shards. Five hundred charger plates, the literal foundation of her table design, were gone.