That Man of Mine (Whispering Bay Romance 3)

“Fatback Bubba.”

“Exactly.”

“Good. I mean, you seem like a nice person and I’d hate for you to…get tricked or anything.”

Tricked? That seemed like an odd word for Doreen to use.

“No worries. I have this all under control.”

“Good to know. And thanks for the cake.” She went back to her desk, closing Mimi’s office door on her way out.

Mimi took a few deep breaths then dialed the number on the message. After a couple of rings, a pleasant sounding woman with a twangy southern accent answered. “Hello.”

“Hello, I mean, hi, Crystal! This is Mimi Grant. I called you, and then you called me, and…now I’m calling you back.” Mimi cringed. She sounded like some backwoods Billy Brenton groupie who’d had a little too much moonshine.

“Hello, Ms. Grant, so sorry we’ve been playing phone tag but Billy’s a busy boy these days, which means I’ve been busy, too.”

“Yes, of course, I’m just happy you called me back. I truly do appreciate it.”

“I’m sorry to have to tell you, hon, but that date you sent me? I’m afraid it’s just impossible. Billy’s gonna be playing down in Tallahassee the night before, then he gets one night off before he heads on over to Pensacola and from there he’ll be on tour for almost two weeks straight. Billy’s got a lot of stamina, but the poor boy needs a night off. I’d love to send you a copy of his latest CD, though. And a couple of T-shirts and some hats. Would you like that?”

Deep down Mimi had always known that getting Billy Brenton to play at the festival was a pipe dream. If Fatback Bubba charged ten grand for an appearance, then what would a Grammy winning country music st

ar like Billy cost? Probably the price of a small beach condo. Mimi tried to hide her disappointment and to sound upbeat. “I’d love that, Crystal. And thank you so much for getting back to me.” She gave Crystal her address, thanked her (at least twice more) then hung up.

Well, that was that. The optimist in her tried to look on the bright side. Getting Fatback Bubba and his band was going to be a whole lot easier and cheaper than Billy Brenton.

Mimi walked over to Doug’s office and knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

She opened the door to find Doug sitting behind his desk, tapping away on his computer. The city manager’s office was about the same size as hers, but it had been redecorated recently to include new carpeting and a fresh coat of paint. On the wall behind Doug’s desk were his diplomas from the University of Kansas as well as a couple of pictures from both his hometown, and Old Explorer’s Bay, the city he’d just come from. Mimi had been in Doug’s office enough times now that she felt comfortable enough to take a seat without waiting to be asked. He put a finger in the air to indicate he’d be right with her.

After about a minute, he looked up from his screen and smiled. “Sorry, I was in the middle of something critical.” He sat back and gave her a warm, appreciative look that just last week would have made her feel uncomfortable, but after watching him talk to Doreen recently Mimi had concluded that it was Doug’s style to be naturally flirty. “You look nice today, but then, you look nice every day. What can I do for you?”

“That’s a good question, Doug.”

“I sense a favor coming on.”

“A sort of favor,” she said. “Remember when we went to Burger World and you said you might be able to get me some city funds to pay Billy Brenton with?”

His eyes widened. “Do I? Are you kidding? Did you—”

“Oh, no, no! Sorry. I suppose that did sound as if I had gotten Billy Brenton, but that’s definitely a big no. What I did get, however, was Fatback Bubble and the Rattlesnakes. They’re a local band out of Panama City, with some really big reviews. They’re about to go on tour and we’re really lucky to get them. The thing is, they charge ten thousand for a performance. The festival committee budget is pretty much shot, but I can scrounge up the deposit which is twenty-five percent. The rest will have to be paid within forty-eight hours of the festival.”

He nodded. “Sounds like a pretty standard contract to me.”

“I thought so, too. But, the thing is, we won’t have the money to pay them the balance until after the festival. I could probably ask them if they could make an exception on that other seven thousand plus and let us pay when we get the money, or maybe ask the bank for a credit line, or maybe—”

“Or maybe the city can front the $7,500 you’ll need before the festival?” he said.

“Well, you did say something about that possibility before. I know it was because it was Billy Brenton, but this is a good band and I think people are really going to flock to the festival to see them.”

He smiled. “Okay, I don’t think that will be a problem.”

“So…I should go ahead and sign that contract?”

“If you think this band is what’s best for the festival, then I say go for it.”