Chapter 9
H ow did you make a paper chandelier in one day?” Aiden asks later that afternoon after I come strolling into the barn with said chandelier in tow. Argos is running around chasing his stuffed apple. I have no donuts in my pocket. They are all in my belly.
“I have my ways,” I reply. My ways being me and Charlotte frantically creating faux papier-maché with colored tape and a wing and prayer during lunch.
But it looks pretty good, if I do say so myself.
I have also brought a length of wire that will hang the chandelier and the stars and the moon I intend to add.
Charlotte comes traipsing in behind me carrying the big white satin bows and the cornucopia horn we also created.
“What’s that?” Aiden says, scrubbing his hands through his hair. He looks nervous.
I march straight up to the float and place the chandelier atop it.
“It’s the cornucopia!” Charlotte announces. “Isn’t it cool?”
Behind her files in a group of men that I’ve hired from town.
Donny is in the lead. He’s the one who found them all.
They are carrying pumpkins, gourds, mums, and all the other things I bought from the country market out on Highway 12.
They also bring in the apples and barrels.
Donny is carrying a life-size stuffed goat.
Aiden points to the goat. “What the hell is that?”
“A goat,” I reply as if it should be obvious, and without stopping to explain anything else to Aiden, I ask the men to put all the stuff on the ground next to the trailer. The goat is going to be the centerpiece of the float.
“Need help making the float?” Donny asks Aiden eagerly.
“Nope. No.” Aiden points to the door. “Just go make sure Miss Guin isn’t loose,” Aiden instructs the bellhop.
“I’ll do that!” Charlotte volunteers. And I know it’s because Sawyer works in the livestock barn most of the day.
I found that out last night by making a few discreet inquiries to one of the maids.
I’m pretty sure Miss Charlotte has a crush on the farmhand.
I have to admit it’s a little fun to be nosy.
Charlotte is halfway to the door before Aiden’s voice rings out. “Charlotte, stay here. We need your opinion.”
Charlotte’s face falls. Her brother obviously has no idea she has a huge crush on Sawyer. Meanwhile, it only took me two days to suss it out.
“So, white ribbons and a cornucopia?” Aiden says, coming to stand next to me. He cups his chin in his hand. “And a stuffed goat? We didn’t talk about these things.”
We didn’t talk about a lot of the things I’m doing. But I’m not about to pipe up with that. My motto remains: Ask for forgiveness, not permission. “We didn’t?” I try to sound innocent.
I am crouching next to the trailer digging through the huge shopping bag I had slung over my shoulder for the green felt that I intend to use to cover the bottom of the trailer floor. I grab the felt square and pull it out.
“What’s that?” Aiden asks.
“The grass, of course.”
“We agreed to a chandelier and some beer growlers, not—”
I snap my fingers. “Oh, that reminds me. Donny, will you please go ask Jesse for the growlers? We’re going to make the papier-maché donuts later.”
“Papier-maché donuts?” Aiden echoes.
“Yep. I just wanted to get the main parts placed today. The donuts need to be big. Really big.”
Aiden stares at me. Argos has come to sit at his owner’s side, and he’s staring at me too, his red stuffed apple firmly lodged in his chompers. “What?” I ask Aiden as if I don’t know what. I unfold the felt and whoosh it out with both hands until it lands flat on the bed of the trailer. “There.”
“Do we need grass?” Aiden asks skeptically.
“Don’t worry,” I say. “I promise we’ll make a profit.
” I have no idea if this is true, but I’ve worked with enough panicked clients to know that confidence is key in the event-planning industry.
The more confident the planner is, the less worried the client.
I do know that the budget is already far greater than anything Aiden and I talked about last night, but I also know that my plans include several ideas to make money.
Part of the reason this place is hurting is because they include too much in the stay at the inn.
They need to monetize more. And I’m about to help them do that.
“What’s the budget at?” Aiden wants to know. He is frowning.
“Let me worry about that,” I reply. I would say “pish posh,” but I’m not sure that works on Aiden.
“Oh no!” Aiden says, shaking his head. “That’s not the answer I’m looking for.”
I turn and plant my hands on my hips. “What’s the answer you’re looking for?”
“I told you the max amount last night. All of these things sound way more expensive than that.”
“Have you ever planned an event before?” I ask.
“No.”
“Have you ever heard of industry discounts?”
“There are event-industry discounts?” He looks skeptical. His arms are crossed again.
“Yes, and I happen to know how to get all of them. So, like I said, don’t worry. Just help me put these barrels up on the float, will you?”
Another age-old tactic... distraction.
But it works, because the next thing I know, Aiden has pulled off his sweater and is hefting giant apple barrels up onto the trailer bed.
And now I am the one who’s distracted, because the memory of seeing his muscles flex every time he lifts one is going to be in my dreams later. If I’m lucky...
“We need white satin bows around each barrel,” I announce, trying to concentrate on my work. I worked with Geoff for three whole years and never glanced at him twice when he was lifting things. That’s a bleak (yet interesting) observation. I stick that in the back of my mind to think about later.
“White satin bows?” Aiden groans, but he hasn’t stopped lifting. He’s on barrel number three. And I’m still watching the show. I wish I had more barrels for him to lift. I’ll have to figure something out.
“Yes, bows are super on trend. Charlotte, what do you think of the white satin bows?” I ask.
“I think they’re beautiful,” Charlotte replies loyally.
Still love that Charlotte.
Her brother scowls at her.
“Don’t worry,” I say as one of the hired guys comes back in lugging a hay bale. “We’re doing hay bales too.” Ooh, until this moment, I had forgotten about the hay bales.
Aiden has finished with the barrels, and he turns to grab the next hay bale.
And yes, I’m still watching. The arm muscles, the abs that appear when he lifts, the thick muscles in his thighs when he squats.
Damn. Farmers are way hotter than I would have seriously ever guessed.
And there is nary a Patagonia vest in sight out here.
“Here are the biggest growlers I’ve got.” Jesse enters the barn, and I smile, clap my hands, and run over to him.
“Thank you!” I say. “Please put them over here.” I point to the spot I want.
“No, thank you !” Jesse replies, grinning at me. “The Oktoberfest idea is great. I’ve already begun getting the other beers ready. A Biergarten is my dream come true.”
“Excellent.” I smile and mentally pat myself on the back.
“Too bad no one thought of that before,” Jesse says in a grumbly voice, and I’m positive he just gave Aiden a semi-smug look.
“Do you need anything else from me?” Jesse asks. When I assure him I don’t, he heads back toward the door, but not before I notice Aiden giving him a narrowed-eyed glare. Ooh, what’s that about? Bad blood between Jesse and Aiden? How interesting.
I check my list and mark each item off as I take inventory of the items surrounding the float.
Once I’m satisfied that the apple barrels, hay bales, goat, and growlers are all present and accounted for, I stuff my head into my giant bag again to ensure the big stack of flyers I printed earlier on light-orange paper are in there.
“I’ve got to go,” I announce to the barn in general, now that I’ve found my flyers.
“Go where?” Aiden asks, sounding more than a little suspicious.
“I need to put the flyers up around town. Although, if you want to do it instead—”
“Not a chance,” he says. “You know, if you go into town, it’s gonna be like the Spanish Inquisition for you. You’ll never get through handing them all out.”
He’s not wrong. And I am not looking forward to it.
“I’m coming with you,” he says next, surprising me.
“You don’t have to come watch,” I huff.
His grin is unrepentant. “You need a ride, don’t you?”