Part 14 (1/2)
She'd come up here to get a break. From men. ”I really need to go,” she said, and took a step back.
”I bet girls like you don't go in places like this,” he taunted.
”What kind of girl am I?”
”Stuck-up?”
All because she'd turned down his invitation to enter his seedy domain-talk about conceit. ”Nope, just busy,” she said, and turned to go back to her car. ”Lucky for you because I'm a wizard with a pinball machine.” And that was something stuck-up girls didn't play. So there.
”Anytime you want to come by and show me what you've got...” he called after her.
She picked up her pace. The sooner she was in her car and away from here, the better. Todd Black was obviously an expert at getting women to show him what they had.
”We're almost at full occupancy for the weekend of the festival,” Olivia announced to the rest of the committee as they met over breakfast at Dot's Breakfast Haus.
”I'm a little over half full now,” Annemarie said. She smiled at Samantha. ”This was a great idea.”
”And the Mr. Dreamy contest was positively inspired,” Olivia said. ”I'm going to enter both my sons.”
Samantha could feel Cecily's superior smirk without even looking at her. The elbow in the ribs was quite unnecessary.
”We don't have permits yet,” Samantha told them.
”Maybe you should see what the holdup is,” Olivia suggested.
As if she hadn't been trying. On the issue of those permits, Samantha felt like a salmon trying to sp.a.w.n in quicksand. No one at city hall seemed to know anything and they kept referring her to p.i.s.sy, which was a joke since every time Samantha called, p.i.s.sy always managed to be out of the office or on the phone or just plain unavailable.
When she'd finally cornered her archrival, p.i.s.sy had gotten, well, p.i.s.sy about the whole thing. ”Do you think we're incompetent around here?” she'd demanded.
”No, of course not,” Samantha had said, getting in touch with her inner Cecily. Just spiteful.
But even p.i.s.sy wouldn't be so small as to sabotage this merely to one-up Samantha. At least, Samantha hoped not. Unless she didn't get that it was good for the whole town.
”Especially when this is going to benefit so many businesses,” Samantha had added, just to make sure p.i.s.sy was seeing the whole picture.
”Yours especially,” p.i.s.sy had said. ”Now, if that's all you need I've got to go. I have an important meeting.”
”With your shrink?” Samantha had snapped.
But p.i.s.sy was long gone and the only reply she'd gotten was a dial tone.
Obviously, it would help if someone besides Samantha bugged the gang at city hall. ”Maybe someone with a little more pull should try to get things moving. Ed, would you mind giving Del a call?”
”I'm sure he's on top of it,” Ed replied, ”but I'll talk to him. It would be good to know where we are.” He rubbed his forehead.
”Are you feeling okay?” Olivia asked him, sounding like a concerned wife. Samantha suspected she'd like to step into that role, but Ed only had eyes for Pat Wilder, the statuesque widow who owned Mountain Escape Books.
”Just got a touch of headache,” said Ed. ”I'll be fine. But I think I'll go home and take a rest. I'm feeling kind of tired.”
”I hope you're not coming down with something,” Olivia said.
Me, too, thought Samantha. If you are, don't get sick until you talk to Del.
Selfish, she scolded herself. ”Feel better soon,” she told Ed. ”And let me know what Del says,” she added, a subtle hint to call the mayor before he collapsed. Okay, so she wasn't the most n.o.ble girl in Icicle Falls, but d.a.m.n it, she had a business to save and a town depending on her.
Ed's departure, along with the fact that the pancakes had been consumed, signaled the end of the committee meeting, but Samantha decided she needed a private meeting with her sister. ”Walk with me to the office,” she said as they left the restaurant.
”Is that an invitation or a command?”
”Uh, yes?”
Cecily frowned but obliged.
It was a lovely day for a walk, anyway, Samantha reasoned. The sun was out, the sky was blue, the rugged beauty of the mountains was breathtaking and the crisp mountain air invigorating. Talk about a jewel of a setting for a town. This festival was bound to attract new visitors, and once they saw how lovely Icicle Falls was, they'd return and bring family and friends.
”Is there a problem?” Cecily asked, bringing her back to the present.
These days it seemed like there was always a problem. Samantha didn't say that, though. Instead, she said, ”I wish you'd held off a few more days before running that piece about the contest in this morning's Sun.”
”You can't wait until the last minute with this sort of thing.”
”I know.”
”You're worried about the permits, aren't you?”
Samantha nodded. ”We're doing things backward. That makes me nervous.”
”If you wait until you have the permits in hand you won't have time to set up all your events,” Cecily said.
Of course her sister was right. They were racing against the clock and that meant they couldn't follow standard operating procedure. Still. She liked to get her ducks in a row and these ducks were swimming in all directions. Now she rubbed her forehead. Ed's headache was catching.
”I know I'm obsessing,” she admitted, ”but without the arts and crafts and food booths the festival won't really feel like a festival. People will feel cheated.”
”We'll have to manage the best we can,” Cecily said with a shrug.
Her sister was right. Worrying wasn't helping anything. At the rate she was going she'd be prematurely gray by Valentine's. Samantha forced herself to stay on track. ”So, what's this I hear about a kickoff for the Mr. Dreamy contest at Zelda's bar?” She could only imagine how tacky that would turn out to be. ”Is it really necessary?”
”Yes, it is. It'll be a fun evening and get people excited. And it's another way to remind everyone that they want to buy tickets for the pageant, not to mention chocolate.”
”I suppose,” Samantha said grudgingly. ”Who have you suckered into judging that, by the way?”
”You, for one.”
”Me?” Oh, that was what she wanted more than anything in the world, to be a judge in a male beauty contest.
”Do I detect a sneer in your voice, Miss Icicle Falls?”
Samantha pointed a warning finger at her sister. ”That was for college scholars.h.i.+p money. And we at least had a talent compet.i.tion.”