Bold(4)

Either way, it wouldn’t be Harold buying the rum, because as far as he was concerned, Tabatha was a sure bet. A man had to be blind not to fall for her charms. Besides, it was a piece of good fortune that Harold’s couple had a past too.

Tabatha had been mooning after Reece since she was a lassie in diapers. How much of that played into the reason she dropped out of interior design school he had no idea. But he was counting on Reece and Tabatha’s similar interests to close the gap between them. Reece had an architectural degree and a Masters in construction management. Together they could create magic.

He wouldn’t bet against a saucy creature like Tabatha once she had her sights set on someone.

Harold clunked his glass on the table and rose slowly, his joints aching in the process. He wasn’t as spry anymore, but neither were his friends. Age was catching up with them.

“Going somewhere?” Errol sat up straight, slicking a palm over the thinning hair plastered across the top of his shiny head.

“Smooth seas do not make skillful sailors or win bets. I think I’ll be raising the sail a foot and see if I’ll get ten feet of wind with these two.” He winked. “Time for me to stir up a storm.”

“You ol’ salty dog.” Errol pushed to his feet. “I won’t be allowing you to get the best of me. I’ve got some tricks up my sleeves too.”

Byron leaned back in his chair, a huge satisfying grin on his face. “Good luck, ye scurvy beasts.”

Casually, Harold wandered toward his prey. He overheard Devon, Tabatha’s brother, chastising her wild nature, and Harold inwardly smiled. The lassie had never heeded her brother’s words before. What made him think she would start now?

“So I see you met our secret weapon,” Harold said, joining them.

“Secret weapon?” A hint of wariness slipped into Reece’s voice.

“Tabatha has agreed to work with you on designing the remaining two booths.”

Her mouth curved, Reece’s fell, and Devon started laughing, which earned him a scowl from his sister.

“I’ve got this under control.” Reece finished the last of his beer and grabbed his gloves from his back pocket.

“Last night you didn’t appear so confident.” Harold eyed the young man’s apparent nervousness, deciding that it was a good thing. “So, what do you have in mind for the psychic’s and the tarot card reader’s booths?”

“Well, I thought…um…I was thinking—”

Harold turned away from the babbling idiot. “Tabatha, tell these lads what ye have in mind.”

Her blue eyes sparkled with excitement. “For the psychic’s booth I was thinking of long, draping curtains making up the exterior of the tent.” Her voice pitched with enthusiasm. “Multicolor scarves and pillows, flowing lengths of necklaces, pearls, jewels and golden trinkets skewed about. Soft lighting. A small knee-high table in the middle.” She took a quick breath before continuing. “For the tarot card reader I envisioned a small cottage with stairs and a functional porch where the readings would be conducted. Wind chimes, mystic crystals, and flowers—”

“Exactly how did you figure on financing these outrageous ideas? The Council has little to no money to spend on such extravagant daydreams.”

Tabby flinched at Reece’s steely outburst. But she regrouped quickly, turning her stubborn glare on him. “The cottage would be a shell used for physical appearance only. The structure could be built from used plywood and studs, and the porch of two by fours or sixes.” She looked around at the building materials cast aside.

“I have a door and a couple of extra windows you could use,” Harold added.

“With a thin coat of stucco, paint and some special touches, the cottage will be enthralling,” she finished.

“And how do you plan to come up with the material for panels and fake jewels for this so-called sultan’s tent?” Reece demanded to know.

Devon sneered. “Magic?”

Tabatha puffed up like a peacock with anger. Before she could retaliate, Harold took control of the situation. “The high school has offered their discarded theater curtains. There are also unused costumes that pillows could be made of.”

“As far as the strings of necklaces and jewels, the dollar store and craft stores sell them for a minimal cost. I’ll even absorb the cost,” Tabatha grumbled through clinched teeth. “All you have to do is the structure and electricity. I’ll do the rest.”

“Our pretty lassie is sure to wrestle the stucco and paint donations from some of our locals with her feminine charms.” Harold preened when his comment coerced an abrupt response from Reece.