Page 16 of The Boyfriend Effect (Frisky Business 1)
The Wi-Fi in my apartment is uncharacteristically fussy this morning, so I pack my personal laptop into a canvas bag and move my operation two blocks east to my favorite coffee shop, Early Bird. The café is nestled between a bank and an Italian restaurant, all sharing the same building complex. Trendy little coffee joints (that aren’t Starbucks) are hard to find in this neighborhood, but Early Bird beats the odds by transforming into a chic little cocktail bar called Night Owl after seven o’clock each night. I admire the versatility of small businesses, a trait I hope will rub off on me while I plan.
After I’ve situated myself at the window, seated with my laptop and a piping-hot latte, I get to work. By far, the process of securing auction items will be the most time-consuming, so I’m getting a head start.
When it’s time for me to hop on a train up north, I’ve drafted over a dozen donation requests to local businesses that have supported Riverside in the past—plus a few new spots I think we’d have a shot at winning over. Restaurants, theaters, breweries, and even a bowling alley made the list.
I consider adding Hayes’s company, Frisky Business, but I have a feeling a gift basket full of dildos might not go over well with this crowd. To my brother and his friends, their company is totally normal, and to me, it’s no longer as shocking as it once was. But I have to remember that not everyone is as open-minded.
My ponytail swings back and forth as I confidently walk up the stairs to the train platform. The biggest challenge in all of this will be convincing Peggy, who has already resigned herself to defeat, that this will work.“I have a contact at a liquor supplier that would definitely be interested in providing the wine for the tasting, and I have all the donation requests for the auction ready to send. My friend even drafted a design concept . . .”
I flip my laptop around on my desk and slide it toward Peggy, whose eyebrows have been deeply furrowed in confusion since I began sharing with her the plans for the fundraiser to save Riverside. She pulls her reading glasses from their home in her shirt’s lapel and squints at the design.
Sometime between compiling a list of potential caterers and gorging himself on pizza, Hayes whipped together a beautiful logo for the event, using Riverside’s navy-blue and gray colors with accents of silver. “Riverside Gala” practically glows from my screen, shining in the reflection of Peggy’s glasses.
“What do you think?” I ask, waiting for her to say something for the first time since she sat down for this impromptu morning meeting. “Do you think the ticket price is too high? Have you had breakfast yet? We can go to the cafeteria to grab some coffee and talk it over? Peggy?”
Her eyes are brimming with tears. Crap. I’ve overwhelmed her with information. How can I backpedal?
I inhale, an apology perched on my tongue, but clamp my mouth shut when Peggy lifts one finger. I wait as she reads over the proposal once more.
“I think this is a wonderful idea,” she finally says, lifting her gaze from the computer screen.
Hope blossoms in my chest as all my tension dissipates with a big, relieved sigh. “I’m so glad you think so.”
I’m so glad, in fact, I could lean over this desk and give her a big, wet kiss on the cheek. Instead, I just give her a wide, goofy smile, practically buzzing with excitement.
Peggy, on the other hand, has wiped away her tears and is all business. “How can I help?” she asks, closing the computer to look at me.
I purse my lips for a moment, thinking. “Well, you have such a wonderful connection with our donors . . . how about this? Today, you can call the donors and tell them about the event and ticket prices. Then you can offer an additional two tickets for only two hundred dollars more. This way, we get more people in the door, more eyes on our auction items, and a little extra money in the bank. How does that sound?”
“I can do that.” Peggy nods, already scrolling through the contacts in her phone. She suddenly looks up, concern marking her features again. “Will we have enough time to prepare?”
“We’ll do whatever we can with the time we have. After this, I’m going to call a friend about a venue for the evening.” Reaching across the desk, I gently squeeze one of Peggy’s hands to reassure her. “I promise I’ll do everything in my power to save Riverside from collapse.”
“If anyone can do it, I think you can, Maren.” Her tone is resolute, and I pray she’s right about this.
After Peggy marches out the door, a woman on a mission, I pull out my cell phone and call the one person who may be able to take all my big ideas and make something out of them.
