Jeannie Watt Read Online Free Page B

advanced down the aisle, but it was only for show. He was just like his son—charming and personable until you scratched the surface. Too bad more people didn’t figure that out. Too bad she had to figure it out the hard way.
    She scanned the room until she finally connected with one honest-to-goodness friendly face, an ally. Jack Hamish gestured to the empty chair next to him.
    “Hey, Tara.”
    “Hi, Jack.” Tara nodded at the giant of a man she’d known since he’d been the biggest kid in their kindergarten class. “Thanks for the seat,” she murmured as she sat. “Are these meetings always this crowded?”
    “Could I please have your attention?” The microphone whistled before Jack could answer and Tara glanced up to see perfect Stacia Logan adjust the stand, a glittery bracelet sliding up her tanned forearm with the movement.
    “I’d like to welcome you to this combined meeting of the Night Sky High School Centennial committee and the Night Sky Business Association.
    “A little background for those of you who were unable to attend our first meeting last week. My company, Night Sky Development, has been contracted by the chamber of commerce to ensure the smooth operation of the hundredth reunion of the high school. The chamber and I, in association with various Night Sky high class officers, have been hard at work for almost six months planning this event. We’ve made a lot of headway, but there’s still a lot to do and that’s where you come in.” She paused for emphasis before continuing.
    “We have several hundred people coming. I’m certain that a lot of them will be staying with family, but those who aren’t will need rooms. For that reason we’ll be making and sending out brochures listing accommodations along with the schedule of events within the next few days. What we need today is an idea of how many rooms you will have available, price, etcetera, as well as input into where to hold the various functions. We’d also like to hear ideas for activities and promotions we might not have thought of….”
    Stacia continued her spiel and, as Tara listened, she calculated what she had to do to have the house completed by June 24.
    “Stacia?” Martin’s voice jarred Tara back to the present. “I have a comment. I think that we should have stipulations regarding the accommodations brochure.”
    “Stipulations?” Stacia asked with eloquently raised eyebrows, giving Tara the distinct impression that she was delivering a rehearsed line.
    “Yes. I think we should require that only accommodations up and running on the day we mail the brochure be included, just in case,” he emphasized the words, “the promised rooms are not available.”
    There was only one establishment that he could have been referring to, only one establishment that wasn’t currently operational, and everyone knew it. Tara’s blood pressure jacked up, but she made an effort to control herself as she said in a calm, clear voice, “Are you talking about my place, Martin? Because if you are, I can assure you my accommodations will be done on time.”
    Martin scowled at her. “How can you guarantee that?”
    “The same way you can guarantee that your establishment will have all of its rooms available. Can you be absolutely certain there won’t be a fire or flood—or some other disaster—at your place before the reunion?”
    Tara raised her eyebrows, but before Martin could reply, a snide whisper came from the back of the room. “Gee, who would set fire to Martin’s place?”
    A muffled chuckle followed and Tara stifled a groan. Everyone knew Tara’s uncle had once attempted a career in arson insurance fraud. He might have been successful, too, if he hadn’t locked himself into the first old building he’d tried to torch, leading to his subsequent rescue, arrest and prosecution. Surprisingly though, other than her father, he was the only Sullivan who’d spent any significant time in jail. Most of the rest of the