“If you aren’t going to pay attention, why am I wasting my time?”
“Sorry.” I glanced at my notes. Right. I remembered what we were talking about. “Beer bingo is gone?”
Leon rolled his eyes like I was asking ridiculous questions. “We decided it was too much like the poker night.”
Really? How? Those things usually appealed to two very different types of people.
“Besides, the school board changed their minds about us holding it in the school gymnasium. Some hogwash about the event not aligning with their image. So we don’t have a venue for it,” Leon continued.
I didn’t believe him. There had to be other places in town where we could hold a bingo game, but whatever. “So, Sip and Stretch instead?”
“Yes,” Leon snapped. “Haven’t you been paying attention?”
I tapped my pen on the notebook I’d brought for my meeting with him. I kind of wanted to shove it up his nose, but I didn’t. I’d hate to have to throw away a perfectly good pen.
Instead, I read through my notes again. I thought the other events were still going ahead as planned, but it didn’t hurtto check. “Tonight is the panel discussion with the winners of the homebrew contest. Tomorrow, we have the brewery tour at Roy’s place. Wednesday, there’s the Beer 101 class at The Den. Thursday is now Sip and Stretch… and that’s out of town, right?”
“At the Serenity Yoga Studio,” Leon said in a tone that suggested the answer should have been obvious.
“Right,” I said, ignoring his snippy attitude. “Friday is the poker tournament.” I had that one highlighted in my phone because I was part of the catering team. I couldn’t get it wrong. But would anyone even want to eat desserts if they were drinking beer and playing poker?Meh. Maybe it didn’t matter. This would still be a good trial run to see if running a bakery was for me. “And Saturday is the 5K and the end-of-festival wrap-up.”
“Yes, yes. I don’t know why we had to go through that all again,” Leon muttered.
“Because things changed, and we need to let people know so no one shows up at the school for bingo.”
Leon huffed. “Are we done now? I have to set up for the panel discussion.”
I checked the time on my phone. The panel wasn’t supposed to start for hours yet. I didn’t think it would take that long to put out some chairs, but what did I know?
“Yeah, I guess,” I said. “Although I have one last question…”
Leon pursed his lips.
“What happened to the growlers and the paperwork for the brewing contest?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
“Do you have them?”
Leon rolled his eyes. Again. He really was too old to do that as much as he did. “They’re in my recycling, although I don’t see why you’re asking about them. The winner has been chosen. It’s done.”
I was a little surprised he wasn’t keeping the application forms at least, in case the festival was audited, but that was his choice. “Can I have them?”
“I suppose if I say no, you’ll just go digging through my garbage when I set it out for collection.” He frowned down his nose at me like he could easily imagine me dumpster diving.
I didn’t say anything.
“Fine,” he said in a huff. “If you want my garbage, take it.”
As he led me to the back of his overcrowded smelly antique store, he talked about how happy Kettlebrook was with the festival—all thanks to his vision and efforts, obviously—and how he expected them to invest money in next year’s event.
“Which reminds me,” he said. “Why haven’t you coordinated with their marketing consultant yet?”
“They have a marketing consultant?”Oops. I should’ve known that, but I hadn’t paid much attention to their coverage of the festival, too busy with my own efforts.
“Of course,” Leon said. “Some big name from the city.”
“Who?”
