Page 47 of Never Sleigh Never
“He’s very unapologetic about wasting people’s time,” I say, pushing an open folder between us. The Holly Jolly budget stares back at me. Mocking me. I will show them. When Brie McKenna wants something, she gets it.
“One thing the Holly Jolly Festival is missing is an ice-skating rink. Now I figure if we?—”
“An ice-skating rink?” she squeaks. “Is that even in the budget, let alone reasonable to get it done in time?”
“I’ve crunched a few numbers, and it’s totally doable.” Mostly, I said to hell with the budget; we have to make it happen for the future of the Holly Jolly Festival and for my future event coordinator position. “If we eliminate a few of the inflatables. And the Santa bounce house. Do kids even like those anymore? I think they’d enjoy an ice rink much more. Only one tree is necessary. We can shave a few minutes off the firework display. That’ll surely save us a little money.”
“But I don’t think it’ll be enough for an ice rink.”
Dammit. “Maybe I could offer my services for extra money for an ice rink?”
Sloane appears with a coffee for Lauren. “You’re going to prostitute yourself out for an ice rink?” She shrugs. “Well, I’ve seen people do a lot more for a lot less.”
“No! Not sexual services, though I bet that would get me the money faster.” My brows raise at the idea. But this would also require me to shave my legs. “Business services. Advice. Plans. Strategy.”
“Right,” Sloane says. “Because nothing says fiscal responsibility like ‘Pay me so I can blow up my budget.’”
“Ugh. Stop throwing snow on my sunshine.” I deflate. “Fine. Cross that off the list.”
Lauren flips through a few pages. “Even with the suggested cuts, the budget is still nearing the cap. The ice rink might have to wait another year.”
“Where is your where there’s a will, there’s a way?” I slap the manila folder closed. “Who cares about the budget? Budgets are just meant to be broken, anyway.”
“I don’t think that’s what the saying means,” Lauren adds. She taps her finger against her lips as seconds pass. “I got it!”
My brows raise with optimism. “You’re going to prostitute yourself out for the festival.”
She shakes her head, her blonde ponytail swishing behind her. “Um. No. But this is better! My friend Eli works as a conservation officer for the Department of Natural Resources, and he told me about a new trail by Winterberry Creek. It would make the perfect place to organize a sleigh ride. It would give the DNR an opportunity to showcase the new trail, along with some educational programming to the community. I’m sure it could all be done with a minimal budget.”
I nod along. This could work. I bet Logan doesn’t have a sleigh ride. “Yes! I love it! It will be an amazing addition to the festival along with an ice rink.” I stare off into the distance. “I can picture it now. Skaters could leave the rink and take a winter wonderland sleigh ride. The townsfolk will love it.”
“No. This is in lieu of the ice rink. To save the budget.”
Resting my elbows on the table, I lean in. “My job and promotion are hanging on by a strand of tinsel, which in turn, also means your job is on the line. Budgets are currently out of the equation. We need this year’s Holly Jolly Festival to be the best festival the state, no, the country has ever seen. And that’s not going to be possible if we follow a budget. We’re competing against Logan Crawford. If he has an ice rink, we have an ice rink.” Lauren’s eyes widen to the size of giant Christmas ornaments as she slinks back in her chair, afraid to fight me anymore on the budget, and that’s okay with me. The less resistance, the better. “But I do love your sleigh ride idea. Can you talk to your friend and make that happen?”
Her head jerks up and down. “Yes. I’ll get right on it.”
My phone chimes with an incoming message. Willa’s name pops up in preview mode.
Willa
Have you been to the festival grounds yet?
I unlock my phone and read the message again.
Brie
No, I haven’t. Going there right after we leave the coffee shop. Why? Is there something I should be concerned about?
Three dots dance on the screen. And then stop. And start again.
Willa
Mason told me that Logan paid a brief visit to the festival last night and took a snowman hostage.
My phone tumbles out of my hand and crashes onto the table with a loud bang. I snatch it up. My simmering rage turns into a blistering wave. My thumbs slam against the keys.
Brie
