His First and Last (Ardent Springs #1) (17 page)

Spencer glanced her way and watched her mouth form a straight line. “I know the phone was your idea,” she said.

“Yes, the phone was my idea,” he confessed. “I take full credit for getting you the same techno-leash the rest of us have. You happy now?”

“I thought about calling you today.” The words were spoken so softly, Spencer thought he’d heard her wrong.

“Am I hearing things or did you just say you thought about calling me?”

“Don’t return to jerk-dom,” she scolded. “I think I have an idea for how we can raise a lot of money for the theater.”

And he’d thought Lorelei showing up at his door had been a surprise.

“That’s great,” he said, keeping his enthusiasm in check until he’d heard the details. Since she hadn’t been on the committee long, he was concerned she might suggest something they’d already tried. “How?”

She held silent, causing him to look her way. Lorelei was chewing on her bottom lip, staring out the windshield as if the answer was somewhere in the distance.

“Lor?” he said. “Come on. Tell me.”

“I’d rather wait and tell you when I tell everyone else.”

Now she’d really shocked him.

“Tell everyone else?”

“Last week during the meeting there was a point when Buford asked if anyone had new business. I figured when that question came up this week, I’d raise my hand.”

Last week she’d been too afraid to walk into the room without him. Now she wanted to stand up in front of the entire committee. What a difference a week made.

“Okay,” he said, drawing the word out to three syllables.

“I want you to be honest. If you think it’s a stupid idea, you have to say so. In the meeting.”

“I’m sure it isn’t stup—” he started.

“I’m serious, Spencer. The only way they’re going to know that I’m not on this committee solely because you’re coddling your ex-girlfriend is for me to put this out there and take the hits. If they come.” She ran a hand through her hair. “Which will suck, but at least I’ll know I tried.”

They rode the next mile in silence, until Spencer said, “I’m proud of you, Lorelei. I’m really proud of you.”

With another eye roll, this one clearly visible, she muttered, “There’s no need to get sappy.”

But the smile in her eyes said she appreciated the comment.

Chapter 14

Her tongue was as dry as the LA River, and her hands tingled as if they’d lost circulation. That’s all Lorelei needed, to have a panic attack right before putting herself on the gallows.

Well, the gallows was a tad dramatic, even for her, but the thought of standing up in front of this committee felt like setting herself up for a public flogging. What if they didn’t like her idea? Maybe they had too many festivals already. Though there were none in the fall. That she knew of. Crud. She should have run this whole thing past Spencer when she’d had the chance.

But then it wouldn’t be her idea. And she wanted this one. Lorelei wanted to prove to her enemies that she was more than the rebellious, attention-seeking teenager they remembered. If nothing else, she could use this temporary return to town to win some respect. And to give something back as her own apology for being such a hotheaded brat in her youth.

The meeting had been shorter this week, and Jebediah Winkle was nowhere to be seen. Which helped calm Lorelei’s nerves.

“Does anyone have any new business to discuss?” Buford called from the podium. Silence loomed as everyone present exchanged empty glances. This was it. This was her chance.

“Okay, then—” Buford continued.

“Wait,” Lorelei said, bolting to her feet. Her stomach dropped to her knees as all eyes turned her way.

“Yes?” the former mayor said, surprise and suspicion clear on his face. “Did you have something to say?”

Lorelei nodded, her vocal cords temporarily out to lunch.

The faces around her watched with varying degrees of interest. Granny looked worried, while Spencer gave her a nod of approval.

“I have a suggestion for a fund-raiser,” she said, her voice timid.

“You’ll have to speak up,” Stallings bellowed.

“Sorry,” she said, speaking louder. “I said I have a suggestion for a fund-raiser. I think we should have a street festival around the theater. This fall. The parking lot is big enough to hold a stage and still have room for a good-sized audience. We could maybe bring someone in from Nashville who would draw a crowd.”

The mumbling started immediately, but no one shot the idea down. Or laughed her back into her seat.

“Local restaurants could set up booths. Actually,” she said, the idea growing as she pitched it, “any business willing to donate their time would be welcome. Churches. Window salesmen. Anyone who could benefit from interacting with the public.” The mumbling turned to nods of agreement, boosting her confidence. “We’d charge a small entry fee, run it over the course of a weekend, and so long as the majority of supplies are donated, make a hefty profit that would go toward the restoration.”

“A festival?” Buford asked. “Like the Main Street Festival?”

“Sort of.” Lorelei walked from her seat in the back corner toward the front of the room. “Only this would be called the Restore the Ruby Festival, and everyone would know that it’s a fund-raiser. We could set up games, have a kid section, and with enough food and entertainment, I think we could draw people from neighboring counties.” She turned toward her ex. “Or even Nashville. Show them what our small town has to offer.”

Spencer’s face beamed with pride. Lorelei ignored the nausea churning in her midsection, enjoying the feeling that she’d done something right for a change.

While she was busy giving herself a mental high five, the rest of the room finished ruminating.

“That sounds like a lot of work,” Harvey Brubaker said. It didn’t take a genius to know that a grocery store would not be the kind of business to partake in what Lorelei was proposing. And if there was live entertainment in the Ruby parking lot, his bar and any band he’d hire would take a hit.

Nitzi Merchant chimed in. “Anything we do is going to take work, Harvey. I like this idea.” The vote of confidence was accompanied by a wink in Lorelei’s direction.

“Harvey is right,” Buford interrupted. “Ms. Pratchett, are you willing to chair this endeavor, or were you only throwing out the suggestion and expecting others to handle the heavy lifting?”

Lorelei considered telling Stallings where he could shove his heavy lifting, but she’d come too far to let her inner child ruin this. “It’s my idea. I’m fine heading up the planning.” What the hell did she know about planning a street festival? Absolutely nothing, that’s what. But until Monday, she’d never run an accounting software system either. She’d figured that out, and she could figure this out, too.

“I make a motion that Lorelei Pratchett create a full presentation for the Restore the Ruby Festival and present it to the committee,”
Spencer said. The motion was seconded and passed before Lorelei knew what hit her.

“Ms. Pratchett, we’ll expect the full presentation in two weeks.” Turning to Nitzi, Buford added, “Make sure that’s on the agenda.”

“Got it,” Nitzi said, taking notes with an extra flourish.

“Two weeks?” Lorelei asked.

“That’s right,” Buford nodded. “Main Street Festival is next weekend, so we’ll be taking next Friday night off.”

“Oh,” she said, still stunned from this new development. “Right.”

Minutes later, the meeting was adjourned and Lorelei was surrounded by members offering their own suggestions. She hadn’t expected so much enthusiasm.

“Nice work, Ms. Pratchett,” Spencer whispered in her ear as he passed by behind her. She turned to say thanks, but Nitzi surprised Lorelei by pulling her into a bear hug.

“Brilliant, my dear.” The older woman released her as quickly as she’d attacked. “I’ve been saying for months that we need to think bigger, and now here you are with this wonderful idea. Simply brilliant.”

Lorelei appreciated the vote of confidence, especially from someone who hadn’t been her biggest fan before this meeting, but the people circling her were tossing around big names in the world of country music. Some were tittering that this could be the event that would hit their goal and then some. Expectations were growing, and Lorelei had only made the suggestion minutes ago. Now she had to deliver, but the bar was being raised by the second.

Way to go, big mouth,
her inner demons chided.
The perfect opportunity to fail once again. Good luck not screwing this up.

Granny chose that moment to pull Lorelei from the crowd. With misty eyes she said, “I’m so proud of you, honey. I knew this would be good for you, and you’re good for it. You’re going to make a difference.”

“Thanks,” Lorelei said, but her doubts were growing stronger. A
good difference or a bad difference? What had she done? And how was she going to get out of it?

Spencer couldn’t have been more proud of Lorelei in that moment. He watched her receive a pat on the back from one member after another, each filled with more enthusiasm than he’d seen in months. When Buford had first called for new business and Lorelei held her tongue, he’d worried she’d chickened out. But even knowing she might have been crucified for speaking up, she did it. And she did it with style, blooming right before his eyes. There was a hint of the old Lorelei in there. The girl who knew her own mind and had a wicked imagination was finally using that spark of creativity to do something good.

And once the kudos had run out and she was walking his way, he saw fear in her eyes.

Not good.

“I need to get out of here,” she said as soon as he was close enough to hear her.

“We need to tell Rosie that we’re leaving.”

“She’ll figure it out.” Lorelei charged out of the room and through the restaurant, bursting through the front door like a woman running for her life. Since he refused to run, Spencer lost sight of her until she came into view pacing next to his truck. He wasn’t sure, but it sounded as if she were mumbling a hefty dose of profanity.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” he asked.

Lorelei jerked on the door handle that was still locked. “Let me in.”

“Not yet,” he said, leaning on the front grille. “You may have saved this entire project. So what’s with the panic attack?”

“I’m not having a panic attack,” she said, continuing to pace and shaking her hands as if they’d fallen asleep. “And I didn’t save anything. I made a suggestion, that’s all.”

“It’s a good suggestion.”

“But I didn’t think they’d make me run it,” she admitted. Of course the idea of taking responsibility for something would scare the hell out of her. She’d come back to town after years of being responsible for little more than delivering plates and finding her next meal. Now she was running a budding baking business, helping manage a small construction office, and looking at coordinating a major community effort for the town that already had a grudge against her.

For once, he couldn’t blame her for being freaked out.

“Come here,” he said, taking her by the hand and dragging her to the back of the truck.

“What are you going to do, beat some sense into me?”

Spencer stopped in his tracks. “Do you believe I’d ever lay a hand on you?”

“Sorry.” She shrugged. “Stupid question.”

He dropped the tailgate and turned her way. “Have a seat.”

Lorelei did as ordered and crossed her arms with a huff.

“You’re not going to have to run this all by yourself,” he said.

“That’s true.” She picked at her cuticles. “Winkle will probably be here next time. He’ll shoot it down in flames, and then I’ll have nothing to worry about.”

“Winkle doesn’t have that kind of power.” At least not on this committee, Spencer thought.

“Someone should tell him that. I don’t think he knows.” Lorelei sat up a little straighter, kicking her feet forward and back. “This is Mike’s fault.”

“How’s that?” Spencer asked.

“He told me if I didn’t like the ideas everyone else had, I should come up with a better one.”

Spencer smiled. Good old Mike. “And you did.”

Lorelei snorted. “What I did was set myself up for a crash of epic proportions.”

With a roll of his eyes, he said, “That’s not melodramatic at all.”

“What can I say?” she asked. “Overacting is what I do.”

When she shot him a half smile, he realized she’d made a joke. “Cute. Now tell me what’s really going on here.”

Leaning back on her hands, Lorelei raised her face toward the sky, closed her eyes, and breathed deep. “I got so carried away thinking about how much money we could raise with this festival that I didn’t think about me being responsible for any of it.”

“And being responsible for it would be a bad thing?”

She leaned close enough to bump shoulders. “That’s the million-dollar question.”

He bumped back. “I think it would be a good thing.”

“That’s because you’re completely blind to my faults.”

“Now you’ve gone from dramatic to delusional.” Spencer threw an arm around Lorelei’s shoulders. “If anyone is aware of your faults, it’s me. The difference is, you hate yourself for them, and I choose to like you in spite of them.”