Sweet Somethings (Samantha Sweet Mysteries) by Connie Shelton Read Free Book Online

theme was prevalent here with parquet floors, metal
and glass wall sconces, massive pillars and art-glass chandeliers. She could
practically see dancers in long, flowing skirts whirling to an orchestral
waltz.
    Pulling out her tape measure, she
held it up. “Mind if I take some measurements?”
    He spread his arms, palms upward,
in a be-my-guest manner. “I will be at the desk, if you have any questions.”
    Okay, she thought, stretching the
tape along the north wall, where high windows were draped with gold silk swags.
Making lines and jotting measurements on her notepad, she sketched out the
rectangular room. Booths could easily line most of the four walls, except where
exit doors came in on the south wall and a service door, probably to the
kitchen, was tucked into a corner of the east wall. She could also place a row
of vendors along the center of the room, with breaks for the large pillars.
    The committee had planned on
allowing forty vendors, wanting as much variety as possible and giving everyone
who wanted to sell their products the chance to do so. No matter what she did,
no more than twenty-five booths were going to fit into this room. She wandered
back to the garden and stared out over the pathway and lawn. Overhead, the sun
blazed down and Sam could envision chocolate creations running down the fronts
of table skirts and onto the ground—customers buying nothing and unhappy
vendors. A sure way for the festival to get bad reviews in the press and ill
will from the populace. She felt a headache coming on.
    Back inside, she contemplated the
ballroom again. A standard booth size was normally ten feet wide, but if she
reworked that a bit and tweaked the placement . . . She called Kelly.
    “How many vendors are signed up so
far?”
    “Twenty-three, I think.” Pages
rustled in the background. “Yep, that’s it.”
    Sam stared at her sketch and made
an executive decision. “Pull the ad calling for more, and tell anyone else who
inquires that we’re full.”
    Rather than taking on the agony of
crowd control out there on the lawns, not to mention the grief she would get
from vendors who didn’t like their choice of site—indoors or out—she could
simply limit the number to however many she could crowd into this room. That
would be it. Double-checking her measurements, she paced off the booths and was
even able to allow for a space at the west end of the room where they could
erect a small platform to use for presentation of the prizes. The sponsor, Qualitätsschokolade , would be pleased to
have that area for its advertisements.
    She reviewed the sketch and felt satisfied.
She would need to sit down with Kelly and go over the specific applications,
decide placement of each booth, but at least this was a great start.
    She found Auguste Handler—as
promised—at the front desk.
    “I think I have it all worked out
and we’ll only be using the ballroom, not the garden,” she told him. “I will
need access early Thursday morning, so I can mark off the vendor spaces. The
vendors will begin setting up from noon onward that day.”
    He nodded, leaving a little expectant
pause in the air.
    “Ah, the check. I’ll just—” Sam
rummaged in her bag.
    Handler stood there with the
composed patience of his class, while Sam scribbled out the amount Rupert had
told her. As she was ripping the check from her checkbook her phone rang. She
pushed the check across the desk, thanked Mr. Handler and walked toward the
exit as she pulled out her phone, noting that the call was from Sweet’s Sweets.
    Becky’s voice was shaking so badly
Sam could barely understand her.
    “The pueblos—for the festival—”
    “What’s happened, Becky? Calm
down.”
    But the explanation was
incoherent.
    “Hang on. I can be there in
fifteen minutes,” Sam said. She started her van and tried not to imagine too
large a disaster awaiting her.

 
 
    Chapter
5

 
    Sam arrived at the bakery to find
Julio working on one of the metal storage