Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
To Do:
- Practice mindfulness
- Confirm menu
- Email ranch
“So, after four painstaking days of guilt tripping every business owner in town, this is what we have.” Claire pulled a binder out of her purse and dropped it onto the conference table with a thunk. The sound reverberated off the warehouse walls. “In order from most exciting to least, we have a date with Brianna, followed by the tickets to her premiere.”
Mindy scrawled the auction items on the whiteboard next to a group photo of the shelter animals taped to the corner. “Then we have a pre-owned Camaro from Budd’s dealership. You’d think after all I went through with his proposal he could have sprung for a new car, but I digress.”
Mindy turned around. “I know, right? We just finally got the smell of pigeon poo out of the warehouse. It’s a miracle we didn’t get toxoplasmosis.”
“Honestly. Next, we have a year’s membership to the country club, season tickets to the Rusty Rails, and then a bunch of miscellaneous donated stuff. A pot and pan set from Tidings, diamond stud earrings from Sable Jewelry, that watch Kyle got from his boss, restaurant gift certificates.”
Mindy scribbled furiously as Claire spoke. “Is it enough?”
Claire sighed and collapsed into an office chair. A tension headache brewed behind her temples. Every time she closed her eyes, Rocky, the three-legged dog, and Pierre, the one-eyed cat, stared forlornly back at her. “I don’t know. The auction items and the calendars are really bonus revenue, and what we really need now are the numbers. We barely have seventy preorders right now, and we only have four more days. I sent a PSA to all the local radio stations and emailed Marnie at Marnie in the Morning , but I can’t guarantee she’ll give us a plug.”
Claire couldn’t put her finger on it, but something in her gut said they were missing something for the gala. Something that would draw a crowd of people with expendable income. But what? Jell-O wrestling? Pie eating contest?
Mindy scoffed. “After what Wendy did to assassinate your character on her show, it’s the least she can do.”
Ah, yes. Wendy. Claire’s (hopefully) former nemesis. Wendy was another West Haven area proposal planner, and she was as unimaginative as she was mean. Wendy had gotten so carried away with her professional war with Claire that she had seduced Claire’s fiancé in a bathroom, which had led to Claire calling off her wedding. A fistfight had broken out at Nicole’s engagement party, and Wendy had attempted to sue Claire. She only agreed to drop the lawsuit after Claire saved her from getting abducted.
“I had nearly forgotten about that twat,” Claire muttered. “What’s she up to these days anyway? Still getting paid to help people hide rings in restaurant desserts?”
Mindy shrugged. “Last I heard, she was doing some Caribbean proposals and Jason was tagging along.”
Claire rolled her eyes. “I’m surprised a convicted drug dealer is allowed out of the country.” Jason had been accidentally implicated in the case of Claire’s missing roommate, Courtney Stevens, because he sold her marijuana on the morning of her disappearance.
“Anyway,” Claire said, shaking her head to clear it of Jason nonsense, “I’m going to ask Nicole to make some graphics for us, and then I’ll distribute flyers all over town. I don’t want someone to be able to go more than ten feet without being bombarded with pictures of special needs dogs.”
“You’re going to make a lot of children cry,” Mindy observed.
“If that’s what it takes. Do you still think we should gamble on—wait.” She stood up and gasped as an idea bloomed like a sunflower. “Gambling. Old people with money love to gamble! If we turn the gala into a casino night, we’ll get busloads of old people. Excuse me. I have some phone calls to make.”
She practically ripped the office door off its hinges in her pursuit of her vendor book. If she could pull this off, she just might save everything.