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Tension slips up my neck. “Mind if I take a photo of these so I can have a copy for myself?”
“Go for it.”
I’m already making my own mental list of the items, categorizing them into what needs to get done first as I snap quick photos.
“Anything on there you might wanna do?” she asks.
“Absolutely. I can’t wait to get started.” I hand her back the pages and wiggle my phone. “I’ll text you when I finish each item, yeah?” She nods, and I lean forward. “Also, for the record, we all can’t wait to see what you do with the festival and inn. I know I speak for half the town when I say we have full confidence in your abilities.”
She scoffs. “I wouldn’t say half the town...”
Her eyes trail toward footsteps descending the stairs, and we focus on a bearded man coming into view with a t-shirt and jeans covered in paint.
He gives Rosie a lingering glance before walking toward me with an outstretched hand. “Morning. You’re the mayor’s daughter, right?”
“I am.” I take his hand and glance at Rosie, who’s giving the man a once-over with approving eyes. “Sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“Never officially. I’m Dean Alden.”
My brows raise. “Ah, you’re the one who’s inherited the apple orchard.”
“News travels fast.”
“With a dad for a mayor, it does. So are you here to revive the orchard or just to see it sold again?”
“Time will tell.”
“Well, good luck with whatever you choose to do.”
He gives me an appreciative nod, then sends another glance in Rosie’s direction. “I’ll be right back, Rosie. Just gotta get some more trim for the baseboards.”
“Gotcha,” she says with an eager smile. “I’ll be here when you get back.”
Their eyes linger a minute longer, but when they catch me staring, their gazes drop, and Dean leaves.
“Sorry, the list,” Rosie mumbles once we’re alone. “Any idea what you’ll do first?”
I stare down at my phone and flip through the photos. “A couple. I’ll keep you updated.”
“Great. As for payment...”
I shake my head. “Oh, please. I know this is voluntary. The payment I receive will be getting out from beneath my dad’s watchful eye.”
I hope Rosie will feel a bit of relief with my help, though I have a feeling she’ll be just as busy still—especially now she has to add clean towels to the mix.
We exchange numbers, then I leave the inn, still mulling over the list.
Create a printable schedule for the event.
Alert vendors of when to set up their booths.
Decide when vendors should set up their booths.
Coordinate pumpkin pick-up from Bugelbach’s opening day.
Check with each crafter that their tables and times are ready.
My phone buzzes in my hands, and a text slides down from the top screen.
