I hated to admit that my mother was probably right. Grams had been losing some of her marbles and should have had someone partnering with her on her business and financial decisions over the last few years. I felt like I’d failed her because I’d been caught up in my own recovery.
“The music festival is going to take care of all of that. I’m moving forward with her plans,” I told him. I hadn’t been sure until that moment, but there was no way I was going to just let this man buy and sell Grams’ store when I knew she wouldn’t have wanted that. We’d figure it out the way Grams had been for years. We’d use the proceeds from the festival to hold us over. Maybe I could make it an annual event instead of a bi-annual one.
William grimaced softly. “So, you haven’t heard then?”
“Heard what?”
“The council didn’t approve your permits for the festival.” He sounded sorry, but his body didn’t seem it at all. He was still leaning casually on the counter as if he was talking about which album he was going to buy. Anger flitted through me at how nonchalant William Chan was when he knew the festival was going to make or break not only the music store, but many of the other shops on the street.
“Why on earth would they deny the permits for something that’s been going on for half a century? What didyoudo?” I demanded.
“Not me.” He stood up, hand to his chest, acting shocked. “Not me at all. The police department was concerned about how fast things got out of hand last time, and they can’t afford to support it on their decreased budget. The economic situation in the city is affecting everyone. It’s the reason we need to improve the draw of the downtown’s businesses so we can fund the city.”
“The festival can pay for the extra police,” I said.
He chuckled. “With what money, Miss Morgan?”
“From the proceeds. Plus, we already have the bands lined up. Tickets have been sold, and businesses have paid for the booths. You know they count on the festival to shore up their revenues. Canceling the festival will hurt everyone,” I said between gritted teeth.
He pretended to consider this. “I can see your point. There may be some middle ground we could reach.”
“What? Like I agree to sell the store, and you make the permits happen?” I said it sarcastically, not truly believing it, but his slow smile had me clenching my fists before I reached out and slapped him.
“I might be able to convince them. Might even offer a small donation toward some private security for the festival. I could probably even guarantee the festival continued for the next decade. Your grandmother’s legacy doesn’t have to die with her.”
“Get out,” I said, stepping toward him.
He eyed me up and down, my body shaking with fury. With frustration. With a sense of overwhelming loss that shook me to my core. I wouldn’t let Grams’ legacy fade away.
“I’m sorry I upset you. I truly have the entire town’s best interest at heart. So does Mayor Sanchez. Think about it before you react, Miss Morgan,” he said as he walked toward the door.
He glanced back at me one more time, gave another curt nod, and then left with the door jangling behind him. The silence of the room became even more pronounced. No customers. No money. Nothing to pull us out of the dark abyss.
I stormed back up the steps.
The mural I’d spent six months creating would have to be finished and sold. It was going to have to fill the bank account so I could fight this from a spot in the black instead of the red.
Brady
TAKE YOUR TIME
“I don't wanna wreck your Friday
I ain't gonna waste my lines
I don't have to take your heart
I just wanna take your time.”
Performed by Sam Hunt
Written by Osborne / McAnally / Hunt
I woke with more strands ofnotes filtering through my brain, somestaccato, someglissando. Piano and guitar and saxophone all mixed together. No trumpets yet, but it was on the edges of my brain still, not fully shaped.
It had been a week full of more inspiration than I’d had in months. Emotions of loss from Elana, frustration with my family, waves of attraction from my brief encounters with Tristan, and the enormous amounts of love I’d seen and felt surrounding Cass’s baby. The look on my sister’s face as she watched her son had been life-changing. All of the songs I’d created were rough and out of shape but were filled with more soul than either of my last two albums.
Ava would help smooth out the wrinkles that remained in no time. I was grateful to have her on this journey with me.
