Sweet Joymaker (Indigo Bay Christmas Romances #3) - Jean Oram Page 0,9

motorbike idea is very last-minute.” She straightened her spine, nose high.

Miss Lucille Sanderson did still exist, almost exactly as Maria remembered her. Slender, impeccably dressed and snooty as could be. As her father used to say, only the good die young.

Introductions were made between Clint, Maria and Miss Lucille—who didn’t remember the ol’ cowgirl from the west. Naturally.

“She wants to see the scooter,” Sonja said apologetically.

Clint and Jeff both swept an arm out to showcase the machine, which instantly sputtered and stalled, as though in protest of Lucille’s appraisal.

“It’s… disreputable,” she declared with a sniff.

“The throttle probably needs adjusting,” Clint said, crouching to look at the machine.

“Did you change the fuel filter?” Jeff asked.

Clint nodded.

“I trust this is not the scooter you’re thinking of donating to the fundraiser.” Miss Lucille hugged her big purse closer and a fluffy white head popped out of it and gave a small yip of disapproval. “Hush, Princess. I know. This is foolishness, but it can’t be helped.”

“It’s not finished,” Jeff said, his tone flat.

“We have a verified movie star coming, you know. Eric Slade. We must put our best foot forward.” She eyed the scooter with disdain.

“It’ll be looking so fresh, Miss Lucille, we’ll even have you bidding on it,” Clint joked.

“I doubt that. A woman of my means doesn’t ride in anything with less than four wheels.”

Maria swallowed a smile, then almost choked on a bubble of laughter when she saw Clint doing the same. She preferred doors, a roof and four solid wheels on the ground herself, but wasn’t a snob about it.

“It was against my judgment,” Miss Lucille continued, “to agree to holding the gala in such a small mansion. I fear nobody is taking this fundraiser seriously.”

Sonja looked down, making it obvious she’d taken a bit of a browbeating from this woman over having her B&B as the hosting site.

“I assure you this scooter will raise quite a bit of money for the animal shelter,” Clint said firmly, his mirth gone now. “I’ve come all the way from Texas to work on it. As has my artist friend here.” He clapped an arm around Maria, pulling her close. “Together we’ll make this magnificent. I’ll get it running impeccably and she’ll make it shine, so unique it will be irresistible to those with deep pockets.”

Maria’s stomach flipped. “What?”

Clint nudged her. “Right, Maria?”

“No, I’m not…”

“Not going to share our big secret? You’re so good about these things, but I have a feeling we can trust Miss Lucille. Please put her at ease and reassure her about our fabulous plan.”

Maria’s gaze darted to the woman’s. Her eyes had narrowed, but she was listening.

“Retro is in,” Maria blurted. “A robin’s egg blue will make this scooter quite popular, especially in a beach town.”

Clint grinned. “Perfect color! See? A few coats of robin’s egg blue will have this thing winning the cutest-scooter-on-the-coast award.”

Miss Lucille sniffed again. “That’s hardly unique.”

“Well, we can’t tell you the entire plan…” Clint said.

Miss Lucille gave Sonja a hard look. “Don’t let them disappoint me. This event reflects on our entire town. And if you want your B&B to be nominated for the Indigo Bay Best Business of the Year award, you’d better make sure everything goes perfectly.”

“Hey, now…” Clint said, but his friend placed a hand on his arm, holding him back as Miss Lucille marched off.

“It sure will, Miss Lucille!” Jeff called after her, then added under his breath, “Don’t worry about her. Her little society isn’t even involved with the gala other than to offer a spa gift certificate as an auction item.”

“Are you okay?” Maria asked Sonja, noting her bleak expression.

It lifted immediately. “Sorry, I was just imagining her gaining fifty pounds overnight.” She patted her own curvy figure with a sly smile. “She’s so vain she’d never step outside again and all our problems would be solved.”

“She’d still have access to her telephone,” Jeff muttered wryly. “Well, sorry to say, my lunch break is over.” He turned to Clint. “Why don’t you run it around this afternoon, tinker a bit more. See what else this baby might need before we paint it. If it’s ready, we can start prepping it, otherwise we’ll keep turning wrenches.”

“Sounds good.” Clint picked up a helmet sitting in the grass.

Well, so much for being a priority in Clint’s world, Maria mused. Lunch had obviously been forgotten.

“I’m sure it’ll raise a lot for the shelter,” Sonja declared as she and Jeff headed toward a truck sporting a Seaside Cycles logo on the