Page 41 of The Lighthouse at the Cove
“Perfect.” Kaiah stood and hefted her giant bag onto her shoulder. “We’ll be in touch.”
Reid eyed Clint. “I hope you’ll join us for the meeting tonight.”
“I’ll try,” Clint said without much conviction.
Then Reid rested his hand on Kaiah’s lower back and steered her out of that jerk’s office.
“I’m sorry he spoke to you that way,” Reid said while they drove down Main Street. “I wanted to tell him off.” He actually wanted to pop the guy until he had a shiny black eye, but Reid managed to keep his temper in check.
Kaiah seemed unfazed while she studied the to-do list she’d made in her notepad. “Thanks, but it’s fine. I’m used to having to prove myself over and over again.”
“Really?” He cocked an eyebrow.
She laughed, as if charmed by his innocence. “Yes, really. It’s the nature of being a woman in this business.” She focused on their list. “So do you think the mayor, the city council, and the rest of the town canreallycome together and make this happen?”
“I sure do.”
Kaiah dropped back on the seat. “Me too. I think it’s going to be a lot of work. But it’s also a lot of fun.” She turned toward the window. “I love this little town. I’ve never experienced anything like it.”
He smiled at her. “I just hope we can get it all together in time.” He slowed to a stop at the light.
“I know I’ve never been to this festival before. But I’m sure it’s going to be the best one ever.”
And the conviction in her eyes made him believe she was right.
Chapter 10
The town hall buzzed with conversations later that evening. The large open area featured a dozen rows of folding chairs, and nearly every chair was occupied. A podium adorned with the seal of the City of Coral Cove stood at the front of the room. Kaiah followed Becca and Reid down the aisle to the front row, where they found four vacant chairs at the far end.
Kaiah touched Reid’s arm. “This place is packed, and it’s not even seven yet.”
Reid rested his arm on the back of her chair. And when his arm brushed against her shoulders, heating the back of her neck, her body responded by sending a shower of sparks through her.
“Everyone here takes the festival seriously,” Reid said. “I’m not surprised it’s standing room only.”
The man shifted closer to her, and a nearly delirious grin spread across her face as she basked in his comforting scent of sandalwood.
He nodded past her. “Here comes the mayor.”
A woman who looked to be in her late fifties with a sleek silver bob cropped to her shoulders, wearing black glasses with thick, stylish frames and a blue pantsuit, marched toward them, her heels clacking on the linoleum. “Becca!” she called.
“Mayor Whittington.” Becca jumped to her feet and shook her hand. “Thank you for helping me arrange this emergency meeting.”
“I’m just thrilled that we’re going to move forward with the festival. This town needs it.” She took Becca’s arm and led her to the podium, where the mayor tapped on the microphone and said, “Good evening. Thank you all for joining us for an emergency town hall assembly. Tonight we want to discuss the Coral Cove festival.”
“I thought it was canceled,” someone called out in the back.
A murmur of agreement swept through the crowd.
Mayor Whittington held up her hands. “Let’s stay focused, please.” She made a sweeping gesture toward Becca. “Rebecca Griffin is the president of the Coral Cove Historical Society, and she’s also active in the Coral Cove Elementary PTO. I’ll let her share the plan for the festival.”
Becca thanked the mayor and moved to the podium, where she placed her iPad filled with notes. “Good evening. I have a proposal that will not only save the festival but also raise enough money to finish the renovations at the school.” She looked down at her twin, who gave her a thumbs-up. “Instead of having a short festival the third weekend in April, I propose the festival would start Friday night and end the following Thursday night. We’ll sell tickets and take donations and host lots of activities during those seven days. That way we have something for everyone to enjoy whenever their schedule allows. We’ll give all the profits to the elementary school so we can fund renovations to restore the closed wing.”
Becca studied her notes as the crowd murmured, taking in the new information. Then her eyes slid around the crowd. “With thehelp of a nationally acclaimed journalist, we’ll begin promoting the festival immediately and hopefully gain attention not only in the region but possibly across the nation. We’re hoping to attract lots of new folks to come. What we need now are volunteers who can help us plan and execute a festival those folks will come to year after year.”
She paused as a new rumble of conversations swept over the crowd.
“How can we pull this off in nine days?” a man called.
