Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
“I say we vote for the condos,” Abe declares.
A few rows over, a lanky woman in a buckskin vest leans back in her seat. “I say you go back to Old Virginny where your family came from!”
Lana’s mouth has rounded to a little ‘o’. With my shifter hearing, I catch Canyon’s murmured explanation. “That's Terri. She owns the Trading Post across the street from the Leaky Bucket. She and Abe hate each other. Long story.”
Abe whirls on the woman. “You shut your mouth, Terri. My great, great grandaddy settled here before yours! He had just as much a right to be here–”
“And after his well ran dry, he stole from ours!” Terri’s cowboy boots hit the floor with a thud. Any second now, she and Abe will be in each other’s faces, screaming their heads off. Their feud runs deep.
Darius and I exchange glances, rolling our eyes. He’s picked up the mic, but when I reach for it, he blocks me. We tussle, sending reverb squealing around the big space. Half the crowd shudders and covers their ears. The other half are egging Abe and Terri on. Old Man Luther is also on his feet, telling anyone who will listen about the evils of boxer-stealing brothers, hedge funds, and the Nixon presidency.
Everyone’s riled up, except for Daisy, who has her hearing aids out and seems to be taking a little nap. Beside her, her granddaughter, a twenty something with a matching daisy headband, is trying to wake her.
“She’s got an idea!” Hutch jumps onto stage and points to Lana. She shakes her head, but Canyon urges her to her feet. Between him and Bern, they usher her on stage.
“No.” I block her from moving to the podium, but Darius grabs my arm.
“Theodore, let her be. I want to hear what she has to say.”
I growl at him, but the distraction allows Hutch to slip Lana by me. Before I know it, Lana is on the podium, and Darius is beside her.
“Hello,” she says to him with a sweet smile, motioning to the mic. “May I have that?”
“Let her talk,” Bern shouts. With a shark’s smile, Darius hands Lana the mic. People settle into their seats. Abe and Terri are still arguing loudly, but Everest rises from his seat on the end of the row and prowls over to them. He doesn’t say anything to settle them down, but he doesn’t have to. He just looms menacingly, and Terri and Abe shut their mouths and sit down.
“Hello, everyone, I’m Lana L— um, that is, a friend of Teddy’s.” She gulps and glances back at me. I nod to her. This is important to her. She wanted to help. The least I can do is let her.
Then I’ll whisk her off stage to a secluded location and keep her there, tied to my bed until Bentley is no longer a threat.
“I have some ideas to catch up on the bond payments and also to pay the debt off. For good.” Lana clears her throat. “First things first. The hedge fund can’t force austerity measures or seize assets without a court order, so you have time. And I bet they’d much rather negotiate with you to get the money.”
“How do we pay them?” Abe shouts. “There’s no money.”
“There are several ways! First of all, I saw a beautiful open space on my way here. There’s a new music festival starting up, and they’re looking for a venue. This place is exactly what the organizer is looking for. It wouldn’t take much to persuade them to come here. ”
“How?” This from Terri, who has her arms crossed in front of her, just like Abe.
“I’m friends with Anara,” she says simply, naming a huge pop star. “She got her start in a small town like this and wants to give back to budding artists on her label. She’ll headline.”
The name Anara has people sitting up and taking notice.
“I like Anara,” says Terri. “Good music.”
Abe harrumphs. “What’s that going to cost us?”
“Oh, you won’t be paying her to sing. She’s investing in the event. She’ll pay you for the space. The first year, you’ll need to roll the payment into building out the venue, adding public bathrooms, etc. But that won’t be too costly. And it will support other projects, like an arts festival or other music events. Artists might come here instead of performing in Kit Carson Park in Taos. Move over Coachella!” She pumps her fist into the air. Her enthusiasm is contagious. People murmur to each other, considering the idea. “The event will require staff, some of which they’d hire locally. So more jobs, especially for students who loved theater in high school.” She grins at the stage hands, who look ready to cheer. “And it’ll bring in tourists, which means more traffic for local shops.” This comment has Abe and Terri settling back in their seats with satisfied smiles.