Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 114192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
“That was all. So long as you’re happy with everything.” I clear my throat, and move back to the center of the screen, shifting the laptop back to its normal place … back in my custody. “Martin has moved the stock all safely wrapped to the back room, and only the features will stay.” She nods along, her cheeks hollowing as she sips her latte.
“Should I come in tomorrow morning?” she asks and I offer her the most confident smile I can muster. “Only if you’d like. I promise this event has my full focus, and it will have every bit of attention it deserves.”
“Love is in the details,” she says and wags one perfectly painted pointer in my direction. The scarlet red is so her color. Red has always been synonymous with the word confident in my mind ever since I read something about the Romans and the color red. Peeking down at my flats, I wish I had time to get my nails done for tomorrow. At least my flats will cover up the evidence that I haven’t had them done in months.
But that’s because I’ve been busting my butt. That reminder brings up a renewed sense of pride.
“In twenty-four hours your gallery will be packed, the raffle will support art programs, the artists will livestream on social.” I bite down on the very tip of my tongue, holding back the one thing I haven’t told Mandy about. In the back of the gallery there’s a small slate path to a garden. It’s overgrown and far too small for any party guests to venture — but — it’s perfect for a painting session from Ellie and with the projector along the back wall, bids can take place during a live event. It’s a show and the guests can dictate colors and participate in a way that most will never have an opportunity to do in their lifetime.
Waves of excitement threaten to have me giving away the surprise, but luckily for me, Mandy turns her attention back to the laptop.
As she silently goes through the event listing in the promotional features online, I can only focus on what will be, hopefully, everywhere online the day following our event.
The social media views of live paintings are far higher than anything else we’ve done on every platform. So the surprise is twofold: another unique art edition, as well as a viral catch for bidders who aren’t attending in person but purchased virtual tickets. I want to ride that wave of interest for as long as we can.
“I’m in love with the stained glass fixtures. I must say they’re my favorite.” Apparently she’s gone back to the layout plan for the event. Pride makes me stand a little taller and I have to suppress the giddiness that comes over me.
“They’re for sale as well,” I tell her. “Everything except for the plates and glasses will be sold at auction, and most items already have bids from the online attendees.”
Mandy’s sharp gaze narrows on me, but then she gives me a friendly smirk along with her compliment. “You can certainly throw a party.”
“Thank you. Hopefully it will be a moneymaker and educational at the same time. We’ll have media hype for weeks, if not months, to share as well.”
“I know Samantha, the artist flying in from Sacramento,” she lowers her voice in a conspiratorial whisper although she doesn’t need to. Samantha Pratt is by far the biggest star who will be in attendance as far as I’m concerned. “Sam’s impressed, so let’s keep her smiling.”
“Of course,” I say and nod, my hands tucked behind my back and playing with the small ribbon that’s tied around the waist of my shift dress. “I spoke with Chandler earlier and the inn already has everyone’s welcome baskets and the reception cards.”
This time, Mandy positions the laptop facing me, in its normal placement without me touching it. She scoots it there and then turns her attention back to her latte.
“Anyone coming from out of town will be catered to and of course the usuals from in town will aid in wining and dining the way a small town knows how.”
Mandy sets down her coffee which now seems empty, judging by the hollow thud of the cardboard cup, and says, “I’m not going to lie, there’s been talk and gossip about you.” My anxiety ramps up, but not too intensely. Her tone is far too cheery for that comment to be taken negatively. Then she adds, “It’s been excellent for ticket sales from people in town,” and it all makes sense.
“This town is never out of fodder for good gossip.” I smile over my nerves and keep my gaze steady on hers. Although I’d like nothing more than to reach for my bottle of water and take a large gulp, I stay perfectly still in my black and white tailored dress while keeping a straight face. I’m certain my cheeks give me away, stained with red, but my focus is professionalism.