Page 26 of Whisking It All

“Every year they advertise to middle aged people and senior citizens. People who have families and too many things to do in the run up to the holidays as it is,” Kyla explained. “They have to start going after a younger crowd if they want to bring in more people.”

It was brilliant. As Kyla spoke, Tessa could see it, the way they could draw in childless couples and groups of friends looking for a weekend getaway before they had to face all the drama of the holidays, how they could turn this run-of-the-mill festival into a townwide vacation destination.

“You should tell them,” Tessa said, nudging Kyla’s shoulder.

Kyla’s eyes widened. “No way,” she hissed, the sound nearly lost in the pandemonium of anxious business owners.

“Kyla, it’s a great idea.”

“You can tell them,” she said. “It’s not my festival.”

Tessa glanced at Jamie, at the tension around his full lips, the blank expression in his eyes as his head whipped around trying to keep up with the crowd. Her father and his friends shifted on their feet, glancing at each other, but made no move to intervene. Someone had to do something.

“We can market to twenty-somethings,” Tessa shouted from the back of the room, loud enough to cut through the cacophony. The noise died down as the assembled business owners turned to see who had spoken. “We put Jamie’s face on the ads and target single women looking for a girls’ trip.” A few bursts of laughter punctuated the low rumble of the group, bolstering Tessa’s confidence. She glanced at Kyla, taking her wide-eyed nod as encouragement, and took a step forward, moving towards the front of the room. “We don’t just do tickets to the festival and a stay at the hotel in those packages—we throw in options for a yoga class or a manicure, things to highlight the other businesses that aren’t directly tied to the festival or tourism.”

“I could offer a lingerie fitting. Women love to do that as part of a bachelorette weekend,” a tall woman with a perfect hourglass figure and a single streak of silver in her dark hair said, turning an encouraging smile her way.

Tessa smiled back, taking up position beside Jamie at the front of the room.

Jamie glared at her. “This festival is supposed to be about the food. The best food and wine the region has to offer.”

“Who said you can’t have some fun while you’re doing that? Food doesn’t need to be so serious all the time,” she said, genuinely confused as to what his objection was. She turned back to the crowd, who suddenly seemed much more welcoming and open to her ideas—to Kyla’s ideas—than the man standing beside her. “When I lived in Vegas, I used to run these bake and sip nights. People would come and I’d teach them how to make a dessert while they drank their wine. It was a big hit. We could do something like that here. If you want to be different, you have to be interactive.”

“That’s a lot of moving pieces to organize,” Jamie countered. “We don’t—”

“Then I’ll organize it.”

“You’re not in charge,” Jamie snapped. “You can’t—”

“Maybe she should be,” Norm shouted.

Gavin made his way to the front of the room, hands raised to quiet the wave of murmured concern and agreement. He shook his head, good-natured smile firmly in place. “Let’s all calm down. I don’t think anyone is implying that Jamie doesn’t have this under control.”

Norm got to his feet. “I am. I’m implying.”

“Look, Tessa’s got a point,” Gavin said, avoiding Jamie’s death glare. “Narrowing our target audience and really speaking to what they want to see is a solid marketing strategy. And bringing in the strengths of the rest of the community is a great way to highlight how Aster Bay is different from all the other festivals. But we only have a few months before the festival. We need to be advertising now. We just don’t have time to—”

The woman from the lingerie shop got to her feet. “I’ll help.” She turned to Tessa. “Just tell me what you need.”

“Thank you, Natalia,” Jamie said, “but I’m not sure—”

“TJ should co-chair!” someone at the back of the crowd shouted. Their suggestion was met with a wave of agreement.

“I don’t think that’s really necessary,” Jamie said, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was in physical pain at the idea of working more closely with her.

“You said it yourself. It’s a lot of things to organize. Let the girl help,” Norm said. “Aster Bay is in her blood.”

Tessa shot a desperate glance at Jamie. “I’m happy to help, but that doesn’t mean I need to be—”

“All those in favor of TJ Cordeiro as co-chair for the food and wine festival?” Norm shouted. A resounding “aye” rose up from the crowd. “There you have it. I have a hotel to run. Meeting adjourned.”

“What just happened?” Tessa asked, glancing between a fuming Jamie and a baffled-looking Gavin.

“Congratulations,” Gavin said. “You and Jamie are now co-chairs of the food and wine festival.”

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WhiskyBusiness: I would kill for a Starbucks.

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