"The popsicle stand?" I asked.
"Ida posted it online. The news media picked it up. Josie is in Manhattan doing damage control. Fortunately between her and Gunnar, they have some media contacts. They're trying to kill the story." Mace ran a hand through his hair and looked at his phone.
"Josie thinks we should do a press conference," I said, reading over his shoulder. "People all seem like they're on our side."
"We have to work with the city of Harrogate," Mace said. "This could jeopardize my company."
"They should be working withus," my younger brother Weston called out as he came into the house followed by his cofounder, Blade.
"Don't come here if you're just going to stir up shit with the city," Garrett warned. "You don't even live here."
"If Archer develops that conference center, I'm going to be here more often," Weston countered. "Now that you all have high-speed internet installed in Harrogate, you have faster internet here than in Manhattan."
"And," Blade said, "it's actually faster to travel to an international airport from Harrogate compared to Manhattan because it's a straight shot to Newark."
"Our consultants travel the majority of the time," Weston continued. "Manhattan is expensive. The public schools are bad. Blade has been making a very compelling case for moving ThinkX to Harrogate."
"You can't move here," Hunter said flatly.
"Why?"
"Because you aggravate me."
"See, this is why—"
"Shut up, Greg."
There was about to be a nuclear war, so I shooed my little brothers into the conservatory while Hunter and Greg argued.
"You should have started a T-shirt business," Otis was lecturing Peyton as I settled all the younger boys in the conservatory and pulled out some art supplies from the cabinet Josie had stocked. It should keep them occupied.
"You can still have a popsicle business," I told Peyton and Nate. "What you need to do is sway public opinion to your side."
"Greg's not going to like that idea," Nate said uncertainly.
"Which is exactly why it's a good one," I said gleefully. "Trust me. On many occasions, I wanted to put a hotel in an area where people didn't want any development. But with a little magic, promise some fancy amenities, and boom, they're eating out of your hands."
Remy came in, bushy beard framing his face. "You, me, popsicle protest, tomorrow afternoon."
"Are you seriously stirring up shit?" Garrett demanded when he stalked into the conservatory.
"No swearing," I said, mimicking Hunter. "That will be a hundred dollars." The kids laughed. "Relax, they're just doing some art therapy," I lied.
"Oh, that's too bad," Garrett said. He looked at me expectantly. "This might play nicely into a plan I have running."
I grinned. "Lucky for you, I am the recent recipient of three whole art classes. We're going to make some awesome signs."
"They cannot protest," Mike said, setting his coat down as the kids scrambled to make signs. "We still need Meghan to sign off on my convention center. We also need them to sign off on the strip mall site if the real estate gods are gracious."
Garrett's expression remained flat. "They'll sign off. Meg's sister is tied up in this. She's not going to jeopardize it. And Hunter needs to be taken down a peg. He's been aggravating lately and won't listen to reason."
"You mean he won't listen to you!" Remy laughed.
"After all of this, there is no way Meghan gives us that factory," Mike said, pulling me aside. "She's already mad. She's not returning my calls about the strip mall site."
"We have Hazel. She's the secret weapon."
Mike cocked his head. "And apparently we have Archer Svensson."
