“Sort of,” I answer, vaguely remembering.
“You were sitting right here as I was preparing dinner and you were going on and on about this contest your favorite food blogger was having.”
“Yes! I do remember now. Riley Carrington’s assistant, Cynthia Tilley, is going on this missionary trip to Africa to help build wells to pump clean water in Uganda. Riley needed to find a replacement for her and decided to call on her readers to fill the position,” I let out enthusiastically before squeezing Gwyn’s hands.
“Exactly. Did you hear back from Riley?”
There goes that moment. I grimace. “Nah. I had two Skype video calls with her a few months ago and I was certain I had nailed both interviews, but I didn’t hear back from her. In an attempt to keep in touch, I sent her a few emails to congratulate her on getting her own show on Food TV and I also emailed her about my new culinary journey. I even sent a few of my photos from my New York at night collection, but she hasn’t shown any signs of life. It was a fun idea, Gwyn, but with my luck, there’s no way I was going to be the one selected.”
“Oh, why’s that?”
“Puh-lease.” I roll my eyes. “I never get what I want out of life. I’m used to settling. I mean, think about it—me becoming Riley Carrington’s assistant and working side by side with the celebrity blogger in her state-of-the-art Colorado studio? Like that’s ever going to happen.” I click my tongue against the roof of my mouth. “Really, Gwyn?” I slip my hands from hers to grab my wine.
“You haven’t been reading Riley’s blog lately?”
“No. Not for the past three weeks. I knew she was going to announce the winner anytime now so I’ve been ignoring her latest posts and emails. I don’t need to deal with another disappointment. In any case, when I get home, I’d prefer to watch TV than read,” I lie. “It was a nice dream, but I’m sure another lucky winner must be having the time of her life.”
“So I guess the hunormous basket that’s sitting pretty on the credenza near the dining room table with a handwritten envelope with your name on it straight from Colorado is a mistake?”
Huh?
My glass of wine freezes in mid-air.
At first I think Gwyn is playing a trick on me, but I follow her amused gaze and stretch my body to catch a glimpse of this fictitious basket she’s talking about. I blink a few times before my eyes land on the biggest gift basket I’ve seen in my entire life.
“Ahhh,” I gasp, bringing my free hand to my mouth. “When did this come?”
“It came this morning. I left late today because I was working from home before a meeting with a new vendor at their offices. It arrived an hour after you left for work, but I didn’t tell you because I wanted it to be a celebration. I wanted to see your elated reaction to the big news. I sent Gaven away for the evening so we can have the place to ourselves.”
“But wait, we don’t know if I’ve been selected,” I interrupt. No point in getting my hopes up yet.
“You’re right. I’m sure Riley sent this kind of arrangement to all the runner-ups. Seriously, Ali? What are you waiting for? Go open the basket and that big envelope over there,” she says, whooshing me away with her manicured finger.
I’m so charged with adrenaline, my feet don’t hurt anymore. I leap to my legs and sprint to Gwyn’s credenza. I rip off the smaller envelope stuck to the basket and I read the note aloud.
Dearest Allison,
I know you’ve been a fan and a reader for a long time. Your latest culinary photos rock and you obviously know how to use a camera. Your photographic skills impressed the heck out of me. Don’t even get me started on your New York at night photos. Fierce. If you’re still interested, I’d love for you to become my summer assistant while Cynthia travels to the other side of the world to lend a helping hand to those who are less fortunate.
Please accept this little basket as a token of appreciation for your loyalty. In the larger envelope you’ll find all the details, a ticket and some paperwork for you to sign. I can’t wait to meet you in person.
Riley
“Are you kidding me? Riley Carrington selected me?”
“I told you.” Gwyn comes running and we both hug each other and jump up and down in the middle of her house like schoolgirls.
After a few minutes of laughter, I burst into tears.