Page 12 of The Mistletoe Makeover

“What kind of offer do you need?” Mia asks. “We’re willing to negotiate.”

“I don’t want an offer,” I reply.

Allan’s voice echoes in the back of my head, but I don’t want to listen.

Mia glances around at the committee. “Look around this room, Mr. Knight. These people put their hope in you to save the festival. Your concert could work wonders for our community. But that’s not why I’m asking you to do it. It’s because we’re losing a piece of our history. Maplewood needs you.”

Her charm almost works on me. But I’ve been in the music industry long enough to know when someone is trying to use me for their gain.

“You should be a lawyer,” I say, not hiding my sarcasm.

Then I glance around. The whole committee is focused on her rousing speech. Bob nods dramatically. Patty blinks back tears. Donna clutches her heart.

Maybe Mia wasn’t making up a speech to manipulate me.

“Okay, Boss Lady, what are you offering?”

Her face flinches before she folds her hands. “My name is Mia.”

“Okay, Mia. Let’s talk through what Maplewood has to offer.”

She swallows and glances at Cora. “Mom, could I have a moment alone with Mr. Knight?”

Cora shrugs. “We’ll step into the hall for a break.” She motions for the rest of the committee to follow as Mia closes the door behind them.

She remains standing, crossing her arms, leaning against the conference room door, eyeing me. “I don’t know what you’re up to since you weren’t exactly forthright at the airport, but I want to know what your game is.”

A humorless laugh escapes my lips. “There’s no game. I’m just not that interested. Maplewood isn’t exactly a stage singers would die to play on.”

“I know that. But the people of Maplewood believe in you. They’re willing to do whatever it takes to make this a success.”

“Including you?” I ask, tilting my head.

She drops her arms to her sides. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You admitted why you were doing it.”

She hesitates before sitting to face me. “Is that why you’re so opposed to this? Because of my stupidity at the airport? It wasn’t exactly fair of you to not tell me who you were.”

“I wasn’t the one who didn’t do my research ahead of time.”

“So I googled a few pictures of you at a music awards show. You weren’t wearing glasses or a hat, and definitely not dressed like that.” She waves toward my ripped jeans. “I’m sorry if I offended you. But don’t hold it against the people of Maplewood. Give me one last shot for the community.” She stops and waits for an answer.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Her mouth curls before she flips open her laptop and brings up a page that looks like a complicated spreadsheet along with a detailed list and timeline.

“Well, this entire town needs a makeover for Christmas. New decorations. New events. The whole Christmas enchilada. If we can get some local media coverage of the Mistletoe Festival, it will build up to the pinnacle event—your concert. What if we stream your concert live on YouTube? Then we could get even more publicity.”

“I don’t stream my events,” I insist. “That’s like giving away your good stuff for free.”

She narrows her gaze. “I think that depends on your goals. The old downtown theater can only hold so many people. The YouTube event could make you money and give people the chance to see you differently.”

“I don’t want to become a YouTuber,” I argue.

“That’s not what I’m suggesting,” she says. “It’s all about perception.”

“Ah, yes.” I nod. “Now you sound like my manager. He thinks I need to work on repairing my reputation and believes Christmas is the perfect time to do that.”

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