Chapter 7 #2
Liz felt her irritation levels gradually wane over the next half hour.
With the exception of the morning’s Carson discussion, her decision to join the Downtown Improvement Committee was one of her best. It was fun.
Low-key. Yet very productive. In the year and a half they worked together, the committee got new crosswalks installed, commissioned two murals, and compiled a rolling list of projects to improve buildings and spaces in the downtown area.
Bea glanced at her agenda. “Any updates on the Commons?”
One of the newer downtown additions, it was also one of the most popular. Once a cigar factory, the large space had been converted into a shared area with multiple vendors. It was a business model many were skeptical about but was doing quite well.
Abram nodded. “The vendors in there currently are working out. Davis’s initiatives to help them develop things like marketing plans and business proposals has been very well received.
” He looked at Davis, who bobbed his head in agreement.
“The vendor areas are all filled and we have a waiting list.”
“Great.” Bea ticked the item off her paper. “What about the food trucks?”
All eyes swiveled to Liz. She gave each committee member her best say something and see what happens look.
Larissa smirked at Liz before turning back to business.
“This first round seems to be going well. I haven’t heard about any issues regarding permits, and I know we’ve got feelers out looking for more trucks as well as advertisements in some of the food truck trade magazines trying to lure in more tourists.
” She turned to Davis. “And from what I hear, our newest business revitalization manager has not only been busy with the Commons, but he’s managed to upgrade the website to this century. ”
Davis nodded. “Yep. Thanks to one of my old college buddies who’s in IT, the website is now not only functional, but easy to use.
It should be pretty easy for us to keep updated, too.
There’s a section for festivals, for food truck schedules, community events, stuff like that, as well as another section for our committee and one where I’ll keep a running list of awards and grants received and what they’ll be used for. ”
A round of applause broke out amongst the committee members, along with a couple murmured Thanks Gods and About times.
“Let’s see, what else…” Bea perused her agenda. “Oh! Farmer’s market. Liz?”
“Yep! We’ll be doing the farmer’s market again this year, beginning the first week of May and going through September.
Most of the vendors from last year are signed up again, and we have several new stalls, too.
The town council is doing most of the heavy lifting in terms of parking arrangements and the logistics of set up and tear down pre and post market, and Paula is gung ho to make this year even better than last year. ”
While Paula turned down the invitation to join their committee, she jumped at the chance to mold the Farmer’s Market dream into a creation of her own. Part food and part artsy, it was yet another creative way to appeal to locals and attract outsiders.
“Wonderful!” Bea nodded approvingly. “And what about tonight’s event? Is everything all set? Any last-minute needs from us?”
Davis shook his. “Nope. We’re all good. We just need everyone here to show up.”
“Looking forward to it!” Liz declared. And she was.
Their committee, in combination with several downtown businesses and town council, were working on ways to revitalize the downtown theater.
While the Murder Mystery fundraiser was a drop in the bucket when it came to the projected costs, it was sure to be a fun night at the inn.
“While we’re talking collaborations, what about the Festival Committee?” Abram asked. “Do they need anything from us?”
Although not technically part of their responsibilities, the town’s festivals helped with the downtown improvements, and as such, their committee tried to lend a hand whenever possible.
“Alice hasn’t said anything,” Bea responded, jotting something on her paper, “but I’ll be sure to check in and let you all know if they need extra hands.
Since it’s the third year for Flurry Fest, things should be semi-smooth by now.
I know the library will probably be able to use some help with their Sweetheart’s Dance fundraiser next month, and it will be all hands on deck for the No Fun Run come March.
” She glanced around the table. “Anything else for the good of the group before we adjourn?”
Her question was met with silence, and after allowing several seconds for answers, Bea continued. “Then I declare this committee adjourned until next time. Have a great day, everyone!”
Liz gathered her bag and looked pointedly at her watch.
“Busy day,” she said to no one in particular.
“See you all next month.” She knew enough about the other members of her committee that her best line of defense was to plead a packed schedule and to get out before anyone cornered her with more questions.
As an extra layer of cover, she tugged Davis’s sleeve.
“Can you walk me out? I have a few questions about the website.”
“Questions? Or a convenient buffer against another interrogation?” Davis asked as he fell into step with her.
Liz grinned. “You already know me so well.”
“Ah!” Clem’s face lit up as Liz and Davis entered the lobby.
“Just the people I was waiting for! Davis, would you be a dear and run this ice up to the Sunrise Suite? My hip seems to be giving me trouble. Liz, dear, would you help me catch that spider?” She pointed to a corner of the wall.
“It’s been giving me the evil eye all morning. ”
Liz suppressed a shiver. She was all for bugs and spiders and what they did for the environment. She just didn’t want them in her close, personal environment. “How about I take the ice, and Davis helps with the spider?”
Clem frowned as if mulling over that option. “I suppose that would work.” She lifted an ice bucket. “Here you go. Thank you. You’re a doll.”
“No problem.” Anything for Clem. And anything to get away from whatever was in that corner. She grabbed the bucket and hightailed it up the stairs before Davis was able to make any counter offers.
Nearing the top, she slowed down, running a hand lovingly along the well-worn banister.
Maya and Clem had done a fantastic job with this place.
They’d taken a run-down house and turned it into one of the area’s most interesting lodgings.
Not that she believed the ghost lore they touted or wanted anything to do with the matchmaking part of the business, but they did have a great inn.
Homey, kitschy. Kind of like the town of Cloverfield itself.
Huh. She’d have to mention that to Maya. Maybe there was something in that sentiment useful for their marketing.
Liz strode down the hall until she found the door with the Sunrise Suite name plate and shifted the bucket from one arm to the other, knocking with her free hand.
“Yeah?” A man’s voice called back in return.
“I have some ice.”
“Oh. Right. Hold on a sec.” Liz heard what sounded like a string of mumbled curses. “You know what,” he called again, “there’s a table right inside the door. Can you put it there?”
“Oh, uh…I don’t have a key!”
“It’s open!”
Oh. Liz guessed that was the difference between men and women.
She would never leave the door unlocked.
Nor would she usually enter a strange man’s room.
But it was the Misty Meadow Inn, and Clem asked, which went a long way toward allaying Liz’s fears.
Not that she was afraid. She’d taken self-defense classes.
Sandra Bullock’s S.I.N.G. demonstration in Miss Congeniality was seared into her brain.
She had zero doubt she could handle herself. It was everyone else that the problem.
She opened the door. Then came face-to-face with the biggest problem she ever had.