When I Need You (Need You #4)(38)

"So no facility and no staff?"

"No, ma'am."

She removed her neon-pink reading glasses and rubbed her temples with her fingertips. "It's a tight spot, Jens. If the administrators for the company needed a physical location to hold the camp, I'd have no problem issuing a check today."

"But . . . ?"

"But while LCCO supports the local arts community, we don't fund anything at one hundred percent. The organization is considered a partner, even if the financial split isn't fifty-fifty. They have to be invested some way, and it sounds to me as if there is no organization any longer."

I scratched my cheek. "I hadn't considered that." 

"Did the defunct organization require deposits to hold the kids' place for the camp?"

"Yes. I wanna say it was a hundred bucks. Nonrefundable."

"So thirty kids at a hundred bucks a pop . . ." She shook her head. "The organization should've charged double that. If they didn't have a financial cushion, there's no alternative but to pack it in. I've seen this happen too many times recently."

Not what I wanted to hear.

My mother sighed. "My heart hurts for the children. It is not their fault."

I remembered Calder's glum body language yesterday.

Dammit. There had to be a solution.

Aunt Priscilla asked, "How many hours a week were the kids scheduled to be at camp?"

"Eighteen hours. Monday, Wednesday and Friday from nine A.M. until three in the afternoon."

"Not full-time."

"That's the issue with the parents trying to find an alternative. Most places require the kid to be enrolled full-time."

"Do you know the weekly camp fees per child?" my mother asked. "That income could cover some of the program, so it wouldn't be fully funded by LCCO."

I took my cell out of my jacket pocket. "Give me two seconds to fire off a quick text to Rowan."

Me: Financial breakdown questions ahead.

RM: Hit me.

I typed in the questions and read Rowan's text responses out loud. This went on for ten minutes.

My aunt said, "Last questions. Staffing, food service and medical."

All of which I dutifully texted.

Me: How many staff members for thirty campers?

RM: Six. All six were there every day.

Me: Did campers bring their own lunches?

RM: Yes. The camp supplied the snacks.

Me: Thanks for all the info. That's it for now. I think.

RM: Rocketman, I'll give you whatever you want if you can actually help us with an alternative solution to this

I grinned. No mistaking that; the woman was flirting with me.

Me: Whatever I want? Don't you think that's a little . . . reckless?

RM: I'm due for reckless behavior and I'd owe you BIG TIME

Me: I'm holding you to that.

"Jensen," my mother said sharply.

The little sneak had been reading over my shoulder.

"So, here's what I found out," I said quickly shoving my phone in my pocket and filling them in.

After I finished, Aunt Priscilla looked thoughtful. "That does change a few things. The staffing issues aren't nearly as impossible when the attendees are expecting intense master classes. But we'd still have to find someone to oversee the camp and coordinate-"

"I'll do it."

My mother actually gasped after I said that.

I faced her. "What? You don't think I'm capable of doing this?"

"If you are capably overseeing it, when will you train?"

"Whenever I want. Just like now. Official training camp doesn't start until July. If I get the right people to help with this camp, someone can take over for me."

"Sounds like you've already thought about who you're hiring," my aunt said.

"The only staff that gets paid are the dance and music instructors. Everyone else will be strictly volunteer. I plan to put the Lunds back in LCCO." I smirked. "Lots of talent in this family."

My aunt smirked back at me. "You're finally getting even with my daughter for making you play dress-up with her when you were kids?"

"Yep. Dallas will say yes without question when I tell her Rowan is in a bind."



       
         
       
        

"Rowan," she repeated. "That name didn't register until just now. This Rowan is-was-Dallas's cheer coach at U of M?"

"Yes. She and her son, Calder, live across the hall from me. Rowan's brother is Martin Michaels . . . remember Axl's groomsman with the dreads?"

"Of course," my aunt said. "He was certainly the life of the party."

I grinned. "That's Martin. He and his girlfriend are traveling through Europe, and Rowan is subletting the apartment this summer."