Page 54 of The Christmas Blueprint

“One who could get the permits to build whatever they wanted and also push through a two- or four-lane bridge rated for heavy traffic,” Killian finished.

“And get the protected green belt and nature preserve status of the McKinnon land overturned and rezoned,” Riley chimed in.

Killian whistled. He had definitely underestimated Mayor Jeffrey Bane.

“But we raised enough money to repair the covered footbridge and the covered area in River Bend Park,” Sophia said. “And if we create another public space at the Applegate Mill, then we could have more public events, concerts, art shows, classic car shows, outdoor theater in the summer that could connect to the park as well as downtown. More events bring in more people and more revenue.”

“And raise up the land values, which should be good for Bear Creek, but one family—imagine who—has been interfering with growth for decades,” Riley said.

Killian looked at Sophia. “If we turn that front parking lot into a pretty, European-style square, we can have a lot of outdoor seating, a stage, perhaps a food court or outside pizza woodburning oven, a fountain or sculpture as a focal point, a large chessboard, bocce court, and cornhole or ladder toss to draw people back near downtown after work and on the weekends.” Killian’s expression mirrored her own enthusiasm.

“And then inside.”

“Oh, oh,” Riley interrupted her, bouncing in her seat. “Did you show Kills your sketches?”

Zhang laughed. “That sounds se—” He glanced down at Harlow, who was practicing calligraphing her name on the Buddha board, and closed his mouth.

Sophia’s mouth dried up. The sketches were hers. Renderings of her dreams. Drawn freehand. Water-colored just because she missed doing art but never had the talent or nerve to pursue it as a career. Killian’s attention swung to her, his sparkling green eyes penetrating to her soul.

Calm down. You’re being dramatic.

But Killian was a professional at visualizing spaces.

“That seems like something that as ateamplayer,” he bit out, “and member of the planning commission you should have shown me. And told me up front.”

“You’ve been in town less than a week.” Her defense sounded weak. Very weak and unfortunately had a twinge of whine.

“Soph, you’re the one who said that you wanted to bust out of the cocoon your family and half the town has constructed around you,” Riley said softly after the silence had stretched. “So you gotta be bold.”

“I opened my own store.”

“True, and I love it, but your store is designed to carry beautiful things created by other artists and artisans and craftspeople, while you hide all your talent.”

“I’m…I’m busy. I run the store almost completely by myself.”

Everyone was looking at her now. She felt almost like a captured spy, the spotlight harsh on her face, the attention searing.

“The store is amazing, Sophia,” Killian said. “A testimony to your entrepreneurial skills.”

“It lights up Main Street. It draws people in from all over, and in less than two years, you’ve already expanded and you’re one of the leaders on the Christmas Market and Bear Creek’s Farmer’s Market. You find talent and nurture it. You encourage so many people. You encouraged me to sell my lights.” Riley nudged her with her stockinged foot. “So now we’re returning the favor and encouraging you,” Riley said.

“Thank you,” she said, not sure if that was the right response but desperately wanting to scoot away from so much attention all directed at her.

“I got it,” Killian said slowly, his brows furrowed. “The Christmas Walk is this weekend, and the Christmas Market is the weekend following, right?”

“What clued you in: the festive banners with the dates and time hanging above the street at every intersection on Main Street?” Riley grinned.

Killian wadded up a napkin and threw it at his sister. Zhang’s hand shot out, intercepting, and Riley laughed a little manically. “My hero,” she nuzzled into Zhang.

“What if we tie the building into the celebration somehow?” Killian asked.

Curiosity fizzed in Sophia’s blood.

“What do you mean?” she and Riley both demanded.

“The building is retrofitted and up to code. It’s been signed off by the city building inspector and fire marshal.” Clearly Killian seemed to be thinking on the fly, and Sophia leaned forward, fascinated to see his brain in action, how he weighed options, discarding or keeping them so quickly.

“What if we give the public a glimpse of the future, or the possibilities?” he asked. He rubbed his palms together. “We could open that building—we’d have to make sure no one could wander off-site—and have an open house. We could rent a latte cart and maybe a cocktail cart—if we can find someone who’s not booked—so we’d have refreshments. We could also have holiday-themed coffee drinks and hot chocolate. Candy canes and cookies, and we’d have your drawings up, and some blueprints to give the town a sneak peek, maybe generate some interest on the project.”

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