Page 60 of Saved By Noel
After what could be five seconds or five minutes, I clear my throat. “Okay. Kick-starting this festival is going to take some capital, but I have some ideas on that front. I’m more concerned about advertising and the logistics of pulling off a big event.”
“Well, I have some ideas on that front,” Clara chimes in. “As you might recall, I work in the print marketing industry.”
“I do recall a certain skeptical friend of yours mentioning something along those lines. A friend who harbors ill feelings toward me,” I reply.
Clara waves a hand. “Mads is over it. You won her over to your dark side.”
I’m genuinely surprised by that remark. “Really? What was it? My charm? My smooth-talking social skills?” I joke.
She laughs, but appears slightly embarrassed. “Ah, don’t worry about it.”
I will absolutely be worrying about it. I’m immensely interested to know what it is that Clara alluded to but isn’t saying.
I attempt to press her on it, but she continues rapidly speaking. “What I mean to say is, I have plenty of connections in the marketing industry, and even some journalist friends fromcollege. I can get word about The First Noel spread far and wide.”
“We are absolutely not calling it that.”
“Oh, we absolutely are.”
I stand, leaning my hands on the table between us. Chase stands up and barks. “I’m still the mayor of this town, and I say we arenotcalling it that.”
Clara matches my stance. “Well, this festival ismybaby, and I don’t think you’re really going to tell me no.”
She’s leaning so close, I can count the freckles across her nose, the flecks of navy blue in her stubborn eyes. A breeze blows a curl across her face, and my eyes follow the movement. Before the rational part of my brain can kick in, my hand raises to tuck the stray curl behind her ear. Her hair is pure silk. The brief contact of my fingers on her neck has me imagining what that satin skin would feel like against my lips.
Warning! Warning!
I abruptly pull back and sit down. Picking up the pen, I write a check mark and Clara’s name next to the “marketing and advertising” point on the list. “Fine, call it what you want,” I mutter under my breath.
Clara slowly sits down, silent.Good going, Clark. You’ve successfully made this the most awkward business meeting in history.
I keep my eyes on the list and off her face as I say, “What about the setup and installation of everything? This is a lot to arrange. Any thoughts?”
I’m making a list of all the available spaces in Noel to use, both empty buildings and outdoor areas that would make good gathering spots. Clara’s still quiet, but I can’t risk making eye contact yet. Chase nuzzles his nose against her hand.
She clears her throat. “My parents could be a good resource on that front. They’ve helped plan a massive Living Nativity event atour church for a decade. My dad would have a lot of pointers on setup and traffic flow. Give me your phone.”
I can’t avoid looking up at her now. “My phone? Why?”
Clara rolls her eyes. “I’m going to put my dad’s phone number in for you. I’ll give him a head’s up that you’ll be contacting him.” I unlock and hand over my phone. She’s typing with a smirk when she adds, “Fair warning—he’s a terrible texter, so you’ll have to call.”
Taking the phone back from her, I see the contact she added. A laugh escapes before I can stop it.
“Your dad’s name is Joseph?”
She makes a dismissive scoffing noise.
“Hold on, Nutcracker Clara—your aunt’s name was Gloria, and your dad is Joseph. Don’t tell me your mom’s name is Mary.”
Now she makes an indignant gasp. “No! You’re ridiculous.” The evasive expression on her face negates all the nonchalance in her statement.
“Claraaa . . .” I draw out. “What’s your mother’s name?”
She huffs and crosses her arms. “My mom’s first name is Holly.”
My head drops back with a deep belly laugh. “Ohhh, I couldn’t have made that up if I tried!”
Clara glowers at me but can’t conceal the hint of a smile playing at her lips. “I told you, I come from a long line of Christmas enthusiasts . . . onbothsides of my family.”
