Chapter 10
The town hall buzzed with conversations later that evening. The large open area featured a dozen rows of folding chairs, and
nearly every chair was occupied. A podium adorned with the seal of the City of Coral Cove stood at the front of the room.
Kaiah followed Becca and Reid down the aisle to the front row, where they found four vacant chairs at the far end.
Kaiah touched Reid’s arm. “This place is packed, and it’s not even seven yet.”
Reid rested his arm on the back of her chair. And when his arm brushed against her shoulders, heating the back of her neck,
her body responded by sending a shower of sparks through her.
“Everyone here takes the festival seriously,” Reid said. “I’m not surprised it’s standing room only.”
The man shifted closer to her, and a nearly delirious grin spread across her face as she basked in his comforting scent of
sandalwood.
He nodded past her. “Here comes the mayor.”
A woman who looked to be in her late fifties with a sleek silver bob cropped to her shoulders, wearing black glasses with thick, stylish frames and a blue pantsuit, marched toward them, her heels clacking on the linoleum. “Becca!” she called.
“Mayor Whittington.” Becca jumped to her feet and shook her hand. “Thank you for helping me arrange this emergency meeting.”
“I’m just thrilled that we’re going to move forward with the festival. This town needs it.” She took Becca’s arm and led her
to the podium, where the mayor tapped on the microphone and said, “Good evening. Thank you all for joining us for an emergency
town hall assembly. Tonight we want to discuss the Coral Cove festival.”
“I thought it was canceled,” someone called out in the back.
A murmur of agreement swept through the crowd.
Mayor Whittington held up her hands. “Let’s stay focused, please.” She made a sweeping gesture toward Becca. “Rebecca Griffin
is the president of the Coral Cove Historical Society, and she’s also active in the Coral Cove Elementary PTO. I’ll let her
share the plan for the festival.”
Becca thanked the mayor and moved to the podium, where she placed her iPad filled with notes. “Good evening. I have a proposal
that will not only save the festival but also raise enough money to finish the renovations at the school.” She looked down
at her twin, who gave her a thumbs-up. “Instead of having a short festival the third weekend in April, I propose the festival
would start Friday night and end the following Thursday night. We’ll sell tickets and take donations and host lots of activities
during those seven days. That way we have something for everyone to enjoy whenever their schedule allows. We’ll give all the
profits to the elementary school so we can fund renovations to restore the closed wing.”
Becca studied her notes as the crowd murmured, taking in the new information.
Then her eyes slid around the crowd. “With the help of a nationally acclaimed journalist, we’ll begin promoting the festival immediately and hopefully gain attention not only in the region but possibly across the nation.
We’re hoping to attract lots of new folks to come.
What we need now are volunteers who can help us plan and execute a festival those folks will come to year after year. ”
She paused as a new rumble of conversations swept over the crowd.
“How can we pull this off in nine days?” a man called.
“If we all pull togeth—” Becca started, but another voice interrupted her.
“And who can take off a week to work a festival?” a woman yelled.
“What about the kids?” someone called. “They have school!”
A burly man stood up in the back of the room. “What guarantees do we have that anyone will come at all?” he demanded. “What
if we put our heart and soul into this—not to mention our dollars—and then no one bothers to come?”
“And who’s going to pay for all of this?” a woman hollered. “I heard that the historical society blew through their budget
and there’s nothing left for the festival. How about you explain that?”
Becca cleared her throat. “The historical society’s budget and the town’s recreation budget were both cut after the poor turnout
for the last few festivals. But this event will be different.”
“How?” a man yelled.
“So now we have to pay for it?” a woman asked. “How’s that even fair?”
A chorus of complaints sounded, and Becca’s posture wilted.
Kaiah’s stomach pitched as she turned to Reid. “We need to help her.”
“My thoughts exactly.” He stood and held his hand out to Kaiah. She linked her fingers with his, and he steered her toward
the podium.
“Excuse me,” the mayor called out from her seat, her voice straining to be heard without a microphone to amplify it. “Everyone needs to hold it down. We need to be respectful. All of your questions will be answered, but there’s no need for yelling.”
But the crowd continued talking, their voices becoming louder.
Reid approached her. “Mayor Whittington,” he began, “could we please have a chance to speak?”
A stoic expression creased the mayor’s face. “Good luck.”
Reid took his place behind the podium and gave his twin’s shoulder a squeeze as she stepped aside, then tapped the microphone.
When the crowd continued their ranting, he tapped it louder and it whistled.
The conversations stopped immediately, and a hush rushed over the town hall.
“Thank you,” he grumbled. “I’m Reid Turner, and I’m a lieutenant with the Coral Cove Fire Department.” His dark eyes scrutinized
the crowd. “How many of you have lived in Coral Cove your entire life?” he asked.
Nearly two-thirds of the audience members raised their hands.
“My sister and I have too.” He rested his glorious arms on the podium. “I love this town, and when I was a kid, I knew I wanted
to stay here the rest of my life. I wanted to get married here. Raise a family here. My daughter Piper is six, and she’s a
student at Coral Cove Elementary School, the same school my twin sister and I attended. You all know how a fire ravaged the
east wing. I want the students to have the school they deserve, the one Becca and I had when we were growing up, and the one
I suspect y’all had too. That’s why we need to find a way to raise the funds for the school. We want to give our kids the
best, the way our parents and grandparents did for us.”
Reid paused and eyed the onlookers once again.
“I’m proud of this town, but I also believe that sometimes traditions need to change.
The festival we’ve had every year since before I was born is one of the traditions we can not only change but improve for the better.
Right now, all I’m asking you is to keep an open mind.
Sometimes change is necessary, and sometimes it isn’t easy.
We know it’s not been the same festival the past few years. Can we agree on that?”
A murmur of agreement spread throughout the crowd.
“Good.” He nodded toward Becca. “Rebecca is my sister, and I don’t appreciate how she was treated while she was trying to
talk to you.” He jammed his finger on the podium. “She deserves your attention, and I ask you to remain respectful while we
finish explaining our proposal. And when we’re done, we’ll answer all your questions.” He held up his hand. “In an orderly
fashion. Is that understood?” he asked.
A few people responded, “Yes, Lieutenant.”
Kaiah placed her hand over her mouth to cover her grin. She didn’t think Reid could be any more attractive. But the way he
defended his sister and politely chastised the crowd was possibly the hottest thing she’d ever seen a guy do in person. Mr. TDH? Maybe we need to start calling him Mr. Smooth.
“Good.” Reid licked his lips and held out his hand to Kaiah. “I’d like to introduce a new friend of mine. This is Kaiah Ross,
and she’s a journalist with The Traveler, a popular travel magazine.
She’s working on a story about Coral Cove.
Kaiah proposed many new ideas for our festival this year.
Trust me, having Kaiah write about Coral Cove is not only a great way to raise awareness about the festival and money for our school; it’s also an excellent opportunity to highlight what a hidden gem our town is and invite folks from all over to come and experience it for themselves.
I’m sure you all wouldn’t say no to a few more tourist dollars flowing into your businesses, right?
So I know you’ll be respectful while Kaiah shares her ideas. ”
Reid stepped to the side and motioned for Kaiah to join him. “Everyone give it up for Kaiah Ross,” he said, and a few people
clapped.
Kaiah took a trembling breath, and her hands began to shake while she pulled her notepad from the bottom of her large bag.
“Hi, everyone. I’ve been working on a series called Hidden Gems, highlighting charming small towns across the East Coast.
I was visiting places between Maryland and Florida when I accidentally found Coral Cove and was captivated by your stunning
lighthouse.” She toggled her gaze toward Reid, who watched her with an intense expression that sent a tingling chill through
her, despite the warm room. “Lieutenant Turner shared the story about the sailors who were saved by the lighthouse.” Kaiah
faced the crowd again. “Since I’ve been here, I’ve found that the lighthouse is the spirit of Coral Cove. I see it in the
artwork that adorns your walls, in the treats lining your bakery cases. And I see the bright light in each of you. Every person
I’ve met in this town has been so kind to me, a stranger who came to you all in need. It seems like kindness is the guiding
light of this place.” She paused, taking in a deep breath. “So I believe we should celebrate that light. I recommend renaming
the festival ‘Light the Dark.’ The festival marks the transition from the dark of winter to the warm light of spring. It also
reminds everyone that the lighthouse saved other strangers—the sailors—one early spring day long ago.”