“Got a smile on her angel face
I know I'll never lose my faith.”
Performed by Thomas Rhett
Written by Malik / Hindlin / Ryan / Bunetta / Sr. Akins / Jr. Akins
“I’ll foot the bill,” I saidto William as I glowered at him across from his pretentious, gold-gilded desk in the president’s office of Platinum Bank and Trust. His family had founded the bank decades ago, and somehow, at the young age of thirty, he was now in charge of its daily business. Between this job and his role on the city council, my one-time friend was on a power trip blocks wide.
Instead of being pleased with the idea of my forking out lots of money to help out, he frowned, and that made all my senses go on high alert.
“It isn’t just the additional police and security that’s needed,” William said.
“You just told me the reason the city council withheld the permits for the festival was because of the cost to the police force.”
“The entire town pays the price. There’s garbage left everywhere, and the damn porta-potties cost a fortune, and they still don’t keep the crowds from trying to use the restaurants’ and shops’ facilities.”
“Doesn’t the festival pay for the porta-potties?” I asked, and his face turned shadowy, not liking the way I was challenging him. “I don’t see the real drawback here if it’s going to bring money into the town. All the hotels, restaurants, and stores benefit. Hell, the city probably even makes money off of traffic violations and parking tickets in addition to the sales tax revenue.”
“We’re trying to reinvent ourselves here. To bring sustainable, year-round income, not spotty, seasonal, or even bi-annual revenue.”
The reality hit me. He wasn’t after the festival. It was just a means to an end.
“Got it,” I said. “So, this comes down to you wanting to buy the store.”
He pulled on his cuffs. “No. I don’t want to buy the store. I want someone else to buy the store and have the space used more effectively.”
“What do you envision going in there?” I asked.
“A farm-to-market restaurant. A place that serves breakfast and brings people to downtown in the mornings. We don’t have a great breakfast place. We just have an ancient bakery. Even Sweet Lips won’t last forever. I mean, Helen’s ancient.”
“The music store isn’t big enough for a restaurant. Doesn’t have a kitchen. The reno costs themselves would make it prohibitive.”
“Kincaid’s drugstore on the other side has a kitchen from back in the fifties when they had a soda fountain inside.”
“Kincaid’s has been closed for a decade.”
“Exactly.”
“You want to merge the two spaces and then sell it?”
He nodded.
“Let me guess, your sister sells the property, and the bank gets to finance it, so the Chan family makes out like the duck that’s laid a golden egg.”
“It’s a goose.”
“What?”
“It was a goose that laid a golden egg, not a duck.”
I shook my head, trying not to laugh. I stood.
“Whatever happens with the buildings and downtown will have to be decided on the backs of something besides Elana’s festival. She was a great woman who loved this town as much as she loved music. I’m not going to see something she created wiped away for something as stupid as money.”
I walked out before he could respond.
This I could do.
