“So, what have you come up with for ideas?” Jules looked at the blank piece of paper on the table.
“Pretty much nothing.” Maddie felt exasperated. “I’ve had a few, but some are too complicated. Others would take too much money. We need something that will attract a lot of people, but judging by the reaction in the town hall, no one is going to fork over a lot of money to set it up or advertise it.”
Gina turned from the cabinet where she was putting the flour away. “What about a contest or something that people can win a prize?”
Maddie didn’t want to discourage Gina. That was the first time she’d seemed to want to get involved, but where would they get the prize money? “That could attract a lot of people, but what kind of contest, and how much would we need to set up for it?”
“Maybe a fishing contest. People fish for stripers off the pier, and there’s that empty donut shop. Maybe we could use it for something,” Jules offered. “Word of mouth would get around with the fishermen, and we might not have to spend so much on advertising.”
Maddie sat back and thought about it. She didn’t know the first thing about a fishing contest, and they would still need a substantial amount for the prize money in order to draw enough people. And would it even be the right kind of people? They needed tourists, people who would spend time in the town then tell their friends how great it was. She didn’t think fishermen fit the bill. But something Jules had said struck a chord. If she could figure out something that people would come to see and that basically advertised for itself, that might make it cheaper. But what?
Chapter Seventeen
“I’m handling this loan a little differently.” Nick glanced out of his office to make sure his grandfather wasn’t around. Nick was on the phone with the regional vice president, Gary Sunderland, about the Beachcomber Motel loan.
“That’s good. It’s time your grandfather delegated more responsibility.” Gary had actually been after Henry to retire. Most bank managers did that well before Henry’s age, but he’d done such a good job at the bank, and no one really wanted to fill his role, so they let him stay on since he still wanted to.
“You can say that again.” Nick did wish his grandfather would at least slow down a little and focus on enjoying life more.
“Why don’t you fax the loan application and credit checks over, and I’ll take a look?” Gary asked. “It’s a bit of a special case, but if the motel is that important to the town, maybe we can work something out.”
Nick breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay, great. Thanks.”
“No problem.”
“Oh, and, Gary. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to Gramps. He’s got a heavy workload, and you know how he tries to take things on himself.”
“No problem. Mum’s the word.”
Nick hung up, feeling guilty about going behind Gramps’s back but also happy that the loan had a chance, even though he’d told Gary the credit reports hadn’t exactly been stellar.
“Did I hear you talking to Gary?” Gramps appeared in the doorway.
“Oh, no. I mean, yeah. Just discussing the new deposit process.” His guilt deepened. It wasn’t totally a lie. The bank did have a new process for deposits, and Nick’s conversation with Gary had included that.
Gramps looked concerned. “Is something wrong?”
“No. Nope. Everything is just fine.” Nick forced a smile, even though everything really wasn’t fine. He’d gone behind Gramps’s back, and that was not going to go over well. But even worse, he’d told that stupid lie about the Beachcomber needing an occupancy permit. Why had he done that? If Jules dug deeper into that, she might find out the truth.
Hopefully his causal conversation with Belinda at the town hall had kept her from being suspicious of Jules’s request for a permit. Another little lie to add to his guilt, he’d told Belinda that occupancy permits for commercial businesses might become part of the loan process.
But what if Ryan went to inspect the place and it didn’t pass? Nick wouldn’t go so far as to ask Ryan to fake the report. He would have to hope the motel was in good enough condition. If it did fail, they could get it inspected again.
Gramps shuffled away, and Nick stared at his screen blankly. The only thing that could save him was if the loan came through before his lie was discovered.
Chapter Eighteen
The next morning, Maddie was painting the trim on the side of the motel with Gina and Jules when a rusty pickup truck pulled into the parking lot.
“That must be Rose’s grandson.” Gina paused to watch him, paint dripping from her brush. She was dressed in a T-shirt and shorts, paint already splattered on the front. At least she’d found something other than the designer silk shirts she had been wearing. Maddie would have hated to see those ruined.
Maddie had been concentrating so much on the painting that she’d lost track of time. She quickly descended the ladder, balanced her brush on top of the open can of paint, and wiped her hands on the paint cloth as she waited for the man to get out of the truck.
The door of the truck squealed open, and several coffee-stained Styrofoam cups fell out, followed by a stack of receipts. A tall, lanky guy stepped out.
“He’s kind of cute,” Jules whispered.
“Cute?” Maddie watched as he bent to pick up the trash that had spilled out of his car and shove it back inside. “He seems like a disaster.”
