Page 94 of Not Exactly Mr. Darcy
“I don’t think so. Setting up for one day just to pack it down again isn’t a good use of our time. We’ll be setting up for Christmas in that first week of November, so I’d rather keep our volunteers’ energy for that.”
Patricia sat back in her chair. “I really feel like you’re missing an opportunity.”
“I don’t think so. Now, for our next item—”
“You always think you know better than everyone else, don’t you?” Patricia muttered.
Liv stilled. She’d done some training on dealing with bullies, back in Wattle Vale. It was a shame she’d never used it in a workplace setting. Until now. “Patricia, could you please repeat that?”
Sure enough, Patricia refused to, so Liv moved to the next item, Cara’s grant applications. But as she listened to Cara’s report and hopes that they’d receive feedback within ten days, frustration boiled within. Patricia was supposed to be helping but had done little lately except criticize. She didn’t want someone on the team who offered opinions but wasn’t actually taking responsibility for anything.
“… and once the application checks are complete, we should receive a decision within eight weeks.”
“That soon? So you’re saying we might get an answer by Christmas?”
“If everything runs smoothly, then there’s a chance we could start the new year with a grant.”
“Wow, that’s awesome news. Thanks, Cara.” Liv’s smile echoed those around the table. She glanced at Liam. He glanced away. Her heart grew sore. She glanced at Tim. “Tim, would you please share about the budget.”
Tim nodded and shared the latest facts and figures. Again, she thanked God for his steady head and practical, no-nonsense figuring.
“Thanks, Tim. Now, speaking of money, I have an update on our fundraising ball costs.” She explained about their projected budget, which was shaved to the bone. They needed to sell one hundred tickets, at what seemed like the astronomical price of one hundred pounds each. The food, the music, and the decor was all going to be either donated or subsidized by those here. “God bless Gary, whose costume designer friends have come to the party—not literally—but are willing to loan some gowns. And Tobias knows a soprano who is performing for us too.” The famous Italian Aria from the 1995 film version ofPersuasion.She couldn’t wait to hear it.
“Now, Drew is going to talk about our calendar.”
Patricia steepled her fingers. “I really don’t think that resorting to cheap gimmicks to attract tourists is what the Hall should be doing as part of their marketing.”
“Excuse me?”
“You.” Patricia’s finger stabbed at Liv. “And him.” Now she pointed to Liam. “What were you thinking kissing like that last week?”
Her gaze lowered. Who knew what Liam had been thinking? She’d simply been following Drew’s instructions. But there had been that moment when Liam had looked at her, before he’d sighed and leaned in, and she couldn’t help but respond.
“They were simply doing what I asked,” Drew said in the uncomfortable silence that followed.
“You asked them to kiss, did you?” Patricia sniffed.
“I asked them to look romantic, as we wanted a Valentine’s Day photo that resonated with those who remember the movie,” Drew explained. “It ended up being a little more comprehensive than I expected, but I think you’ll agree the shot worked.”
He hadn’t shown Liv that particular photo yet. Her heart thudded with trepidation. “How about you show the other photos first, and we can vote on them?” Offering the committee members the chance to vote was in the interests of cooperation and collaboration, and proof that Patricia’s complaints about Liv’s dictator-like tendencies were unfounded.
“Sure.” Drew stood and moved to the easel which held a series of enlarged photographs. “As you can see, January is locked in already, as it’s the main shot we’ve used from the front of the Hall. If we skip February”—he hastily shuffled some photos—“these are the contenders for March.” All votes were for the first picture, looking up the painted staircase. Same for the April photo, one looking down the lane towards the church. There was an even spread of votes for May, with some opting for a parkland view and others wanting a reflected view of the house. And so it continued, until they all agreed that the December photo—the Hall framed by a fir tree boasting red and gold baubles—was the best.
“And the February shot?” Marge asked.
“I think you’ll agree, this one takes the cake.”
Drew slid out the enlarged photo, one that stole Liv’s breath. In the background, the house rose in afternoon light, while water danced in droplets framing the couple on the bench. Liam, eyes closed, head tilted away from the camera while he cradled Liv’s face. Her hair looked surprisingly Regency-like in its topknot and curls, the soft white of her shirt adding an old-fashioned feel. Liam too looked fit for the part, and no one would ever expect that jacket that fit his shoulders snugly wasn’t his, or that it hid a work shirt. The position meant neither of their faces could easily be seen, but the closeness to the famed film shot was just what she’d imagined. It was beautiful. The perfect homage to the perfect scene that was shot here. If only it were real.
She peeked at Liam, saw his frown, and felt her heart fall a little more. If only she hadn’t said what she had, it might well be real.
She tried to speak. Couldn’t. Swallowed. Tried again. “Liam, what do you think?” This affected him more than anyone.
He glanced at her. Tension rippled around the room, around her heart. He folded his hands and leaned back in his chair. “I think I need to talk to Liv. Alone.”
She froze. Then, realizing everyone was waiting for her to say something, she closed the meeting, promising Drew he’d have an answer as soon as possible.
She didn’t move as the others exited, Gran saying she’d get a ride home with Marge.
