Blitz (Blast Brothers #3) - Sabrina Stark Page 0,42
had been skeptical when I'd first told her, that hadn't stopped her from sharing the announcement far and wide among her circle of friends, probably to fend off further rumors from Ginger Hawthorne.
Now, as I sat in Chase's office, I said a silent prayer that my good news hadn't been premature. Reluctantly, I asked, "What kind of change?"
He leaned back in his chair. "Here's the deal," he said. "I want to go bigger."
"Oh." Something in my shoulders eased. "Bigger how?"
As I listened, Chase explained that he wanted to get the TV people involved and tie it to a larger campaign. Among other things, he mentioned advertising spots, social media plans, and even personal appearances. By who, he didn't say.
But it was easy to guess that he probably meant himself and possibly his two brothers. Who knows, maybe he'd even include Arden Weathers.
Arden was Brody Blastoviak's fiancée, and I almost felt like I knew her.
Last year, I'd watched along with millions of other people as she and Brody had fallen in love while remodeling a beach house right here in Bayside.
Embarrassingly, I'd loved watching that even more than I'd loved watching the transformation of the house itself.
Probably, it was all the fireworks, and I didn't mean the Fourth-of-July kind.
When Chase finished talking, I was almost too stunned to speak. "Wow, that is big."
"And it might get bigger," he said. "Any questions?"
I had a ton of questions, but no idea where to begin. And although I was obnoxiously pleased that he was planning to take my idea and run with it, my primary concern remained unchanged.
I felt to compelled to say, "But you're still going to allocate money for the festivals, right?"
He smiled. "No."
My stomach sank. "What?"
"You're going to allocate it. And you'll get a commission."
I wasn't following. "Excuse me?"
"Five percent commission," he said. "That's your cut of the festival budget."
"But wait, why would I get a cut?"
"Because it was your idea," he said. "And I want you hands-on throughout the process."
"Hands-on?" I wasn't even sure what that meant. "Sorry, could you be more specific?"
"Lemme back up," he said. "Our total contribution will be a million even."
My jaw dropped. A million? As in dollars?
I'd proposed half that amount, and had felt slightly outrageous doing it. But there'd been a method to my madness. There were a hundred festivals on my list, and I'd suggested an average of five-thousand dollars per festival, with some getting more and some getting less, depending on their need and participation level.
Now, each festival would get an average of ten-thousand dollars.
It was terrific news, but there had to be a catch. I mean, no one would offer double the money for nothing.
Would they?
Across from me, Chase continued like the amount was no big deal. "But you're gonna have to do more than divvy it up," he explained. "You're gonna have to deal with the festival people, too."
Like that was a hardship. I'd have the happy task of giving them money, playing Santa Claus with funds that weren't even my own.
It sounded like a blast – and I meant that literally, considering that I'd be doing this on behalf of Blast Tools.
Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right. "Can I ask you something?"
"Go ahead."
"Why would you double it? I mean, it's terrific news, but I guess I'm a little surprised."
"Don't be," he said. "The money's not a donation. It's a sponsorship, which means I'll be wanting things in return." He gave me a serious look. "It'll be up to you to get them."
Was that the catch? "What sort of things?"
"Nothing they won't be willing to give."
I was familiar with the concept. When the bank had agreed to sponsor the Tomato Festival, they'd wanted their own booth, their names on all of the programs, and a banner across the midway. For this, they'd been willing to donate seven-thousand dollars.
Somehow, I had the distinct feeling that Chase would be expecting more. This wasn't unreasonable.
And yet, I still felt like I was missing something. "But you never said. Why'd you double it?"
"Because a million is a nice round number," he said. "It rolls off the tongue better than five-hundred thousand. It'll look good in print, too."
By now, my head was swimming, even more so when I recalled something he'd said a few moments ago. "Wait a minute, the commission you mentioned. You said I'd get five percent?" My pulse quickened. "Of what amount?"