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The other man who'd come in with Cal appeared bored, tugging at his shirt, which looked a size too small.
"And some of you know Bartholomew Harvey. His family started the art festival and he's agreed to serve as an adviser."
Bartholomew inclined his head and offered a faint smile. "Call me Bart, please."
Leif felt as though pieces were dropping into place. He needed access to Bart and here the man stood.
"Now." Hilda clapped her hands again and picked up a stack of colored folders. "I have prepared these folders for you. Please put them in the binders I gave you at the first meeting. This is the schedule of events, mock-ups of the posters that will go out next week, and the press release."
For the next forty-five minutes, Hilda led the meeting, and Leif spoke when it was appropriate, trying like the devil not to stare at the woman across from him. He did manage a peek at Abigail's smooth legs and that niggle of concern that was a permanent fixture between her pretty eyes. It made him want to ruffle her feathers, mess her up a little bit, make her laugh. Slide his lips-
Hilda snapped her binder closed. "You all have work to do and I would like a report by next week. Leif, as soon as you've confirmed the final judges, I'd like a bio for each to place on the website. Please include Bart as an honorary judge."
Leif looked at Bart, the man who had once owned the land his house sat on, the man who might be able to help him in his quest for the truth about his parentage. "Would you mind if l stopped by to pick your brain about the judging criteria?"
Bart startled. "Me? Well, I don't know a lot about art, but I suppose I could look it over."
Violet was the first to stand. "I'll get back with you after I speak to Patty Ann about the catering menu. Nice to meet you, Leif."
"You, too," he said, knowing the minister's wife didn't mean what she said. No skin off his nose. Ed was the next to make his exit after saying his goodbyes.
Abigail remained in her chair, scribbling notes. She was in charge of the parade grounds and facilities, including security and ticketing. A big job but probably not for Abigail. He waited because he wanted to walk her out, but it was obvious Cal had the same idea.
Finally, she stood. "Thanks, Hilda. I'll do some checking around with the organizers of The Revel up in Shreveport. I think they have an auction every year for seed money and we might plan something similar for next year, especially if we can get some interest from galleries in New Orleans."
Hilda studied the two men standing beside her cousin. "Sounds like you know what you're doing."
Veiled words.
Cal placed his arm on Abigail's elbow. "Can I grab you for a sec, Abi? I'll walk you out to your car."
Abigail tugged her elbow free, shifting her gaze to Leif. "Later, Cal. I need to talk to Leif."
Inside, Leif gave a fist pump. Score. Then he chastised himself. Abigail was probably only using him as an excuse to get away from Cal.
"Okay, then I'll stop by later. I wanted to continue the conversation we had earlier." Cal dogged her footsteps as she moved into the foyer.
Abigail shook her head. "Not tonight, Cal. I'm tired."
Leif didn't want to look as if he were eavesdropping so he turned to Hilda, who held out the Scotch bottle.
"No, keep it," he said.
Hilda shifted her gaze from the back of Cal's head. "You obviously know what a lady needs."
The way she said it was more thoughtful than flirtatious.
Then she leaned closer. "You're a laid-back, generous man, but there are some days you need to be assertive. Know what I mean?"
Leif refused to look toward where Abigail stood with Cal. "You're barking up the wrong tree, Hilda."
"I don't think so. I haven't seen her wear heels in over a year."
“And you assume it's because of me? That's a huge jump. Her ex just showed up in town. Maybe she wants him to know what he's missing."
"Maybe, but I don't think so." Hilda smiled like a cat with feathers caught in her whiskers. "There's one thing I know, and that's human nature. Abigail needs someone who can pop her buttons. And she's interested in you. Make no mistake. So the question is…”
He crooked an eyebrow.
