“How did you know I need help?”
“Your face looks like you lost your best friend.”
Amanda’s fingers instinctively curled around the warm mug. Beverly had no idea how close she was to the truth.
“I… I did something and Connor got really angry and pulled out of the art show.” She couldn’t hide the slight tremor in her voice. “And I’m afraid more people are going to pull out.”
“You mean because of that online review?”
She looked up, surprised. “You heard about it too?”
“I reckon about everyone in town has heard about it. And you’re right. They are mad.”
“I knew it.” She sighed with a weary resignation. “I’ve ruined everything. I’ve failed the town.” And failed Connor…
“No, you haven’t. Look at all you’ve done. We’re going to have a bigger and better festival than we’ve had in years.”
“They’re all going to be so mad when they read the review.”
Beverly shook her head slowly. “They aren’t mad at you. They’re mad at that Desiree woman. The consensus is that she’s some snobby city woman who doesn’t really know anything about handcrafted artwork.”
“Really?” She looked up hopefully. “They aren’t mad at me?”
“No one I’ve talked to is.”
“Well, Connor sure is. He’s mad I contacted an art critic to review the work. And furious that I gave a preview instead of waiting until it all could be set up at the pavilion to show all the work in its best light. He’s right about that. I shouldn’t have let her see the pieces in that cramped room.”
“Ah, well. Lesson learned. And maybe Connor will come around.”
“I doubt it. He was so angry. Enraged, boiling, seething. Oh, and livid.” She smiled wryly. “Okay, I’ve run out of words to describe how furious he was. But he made it crystal clear he was done. With the art show, the festival… and with me.”
“Oh, hon. I’m so sorry. Men can be so stubborn sometimes.”
“I shouldn’t have called the critic. I knew he was tentative about showing his art. And maybe… maybe I just did it so people would congratulate me on putting together such a great art show. I wanted to prove to everyone here on the island that I knew what I was doing. Only… obviously, I don’t.”
“You’re too hard on yourself. Most people appreciate all you’ve done.” Beverly’s eyes filled with warm assurance. “And the naysayers? Well, we’re not going to let them rain on our parade, are we? The festival is going to be wonderful, you’ll see. It will all come together just like you’ve envisioned.”
“I sure hope so.” She managed a faint smile.
“I’ve got to catch that table. I’ll be back.”
Beverly walked away and Amanda stared unseeingly into the depths of her untouched coffee as if it held all the answers. Well, one answer was already known. Connor was furious with her, and she’d ruined their budding relationship.
She only hoped he didn’t stop carving because of the harsh criticism. Guilt hammered through her. How had she let this happen?
CHAPTER 23
On Thursday, Megan and Brooklyn arrived in a flurry of activity, their presence instantly filling Connor’s cottage with laughter and commotion. Brooklyn’s curls bounced as she twirled and danced around the room chanting, “We’re going to the festival. Festival. Festival.”
“Brooklyn, inside voice, please,” Megan pleaded as she hauled a suitcase inside.
“Here, let me get that for you.” Connor reached for the bag.
“Thanks. Got one more trip out to the car. I swear Brooklyn packed enough for a two-week stay.” Megan shook her head.
“Can we stay for two weeks?” Brooklyn’s eyes lit up.
“No,” Megan and Connor said in unison.
