Chapter 2

For the rest of the afternoon, Brenda stayed quiet.

Right before clocking out, she marched over to my cubicle and slammed a thick stack of folders onto my desk.

"Chloe, you're running next month's annual Vendor Appreciation Gala. Venue scouting, logistics, and material procurement—it's all yours."

Before I could get a word in, she cut in smoothly,

"The director personally approved this to groom promising talent. You think you're so capable? Let's see what you've got!"

Sympathetic looks shot across the office toward me.

Everyone knew the annual Vendor Gala was the company's marquee year-end event, but it was also a massive landmine.

A razor-thin budget, sky-high expectations, endless moving parts, and zero room for error.

In past years, Brenda had handled it herself alongside an entire team of her favorites. Ditching the whole project onto me alone?

It was a blatant setup.

Seeing me stay silent, she assumed I was terrified. A smug smirk curled on her lips.

"What? Scared? If you beg me right now and admit you're out of your depth, maybe I'll put in a good word with the director."

I looked up, met her gaze, and smiled.

"Thank you for the opportunity, Brenda. I'll make sure not to disappoint you."

She clearly hadn't expected me to accept so easily. Her smile vanished, replaced by a cold sneer.

"Talk is cheap. Mess this up, and you're fired!"

With that, she strutted away in triumph.

I picked up the folder, glanced at the pathetic budget figures, and laughed under my breath.

She wanted to watch me fail?

Not a chance.

In my three years here, if there was one thing I had perfected, it was pulling off miracles on a shoestring budget.

More importantly, I held an ace she knew nothing about.

The next day, preparations began in full swing.

Brenda went out of her way to micro-manage and nitpick every tiny detail.

One minute she claimed my shortlisted venues were too remote; the next, she said my staging vendors looked sketchy.

Worst of all, she flat-out froze my purchase requests.

"Chloe, how did you even draft this budget? Five thousand dollars for a custom media wall?"

"Do you think the company prints money?"

She waved my requisition form in the middle of the open office, practically shouting.

I stayed calm. "Brenda, that quote is already the lowest on the market, and the design concept was the client's favorite."

"Anything cheaper, and the presentation will look like garbage."

"I don't care!" She shoved the paperwork back into my chest.

"The budget is fixed. Figure it out yourself! Pull it off or get out!"

Murmurs of pity swept through the room.

Mia slipped me a message on SnapChat:

[Chloe, she's deliberately setting you up. Why don't you talk to the department director?]

I replied: [No need. I've got this.]

That afternoon, I drafted a brand-new proposal and sent it straight to our CEO, Ethan Ross.

I CC'd every executive on the leadership team.

Subject line: [Innovative Proposal for Cost-Efficiency and Venue Optimization for the Annual Vendor Gala].

In the email, I didn't say a single word about Brenda slashing my budget.

Instead, I laid out a brilliant case: if we moved the gala from a stuffy five-star hotel ballroom to an unconventional outdoor venue, we wouldn't just save a fortune on rental fees—we'd generate massive buzz.

That location was Meadowbrook Ranch, an upscale organic estate in the countryside owned by my uncle.

Of course, I didn't mention he was my uncle.

I pitched it as a trendy, scenic retreat, complete with gorgeous high-res photos and an airtight event itinerary.

Most importantly, I attached a side-by-side cost breakdown.

My plan would cut Brenda's bare-bones budget by an additional 30%.

On paper, the rustic-chic concept looked a hundred times classier than another boring hotel buffet.

Massive savings, fresh branding, and an unforgettable experience. It was an absolute slam dunk.