Sandcastle Beach (Matchmaker Bay #3) - Jenny Holiday Page 0,19
oven at the new site.
“I actually have an idea for you for a location,” Jake said.
“Yeah?”
Jake looked around, his gaze settling on Carter. “Can you take off for a bit?”
“Sure.” Law wiped his hands on a bar towel. “Give me five minutes.”
“I gotta talk to you guys,” Maya said after the girls had thrown their flowers into the lake—she had wished for a financial miracle—and said goodbye to their southern friend.
“Ooh, this sounds serious,” Eve joked as they started walking back downtown.
“It is.” Maya knew they weren’t used to this from her—she was the fun-loving, lighthearted friend. But she’d decided she needed some moral support. She’d been carrying this burden around for the better part of a year, and she just couldn’t do it on her own anymore.
“Okay.” Eve dropped the joking tone. “You want to go back to the inn?”
“No, I don’t want to risk anyone overhearing.” Maya pointed to the gazebo in the town square. “Let’s hide in there.” But what was she afraid of? That her best friends would think she was a bad businesswoman? Maybe. Ha. It was just she hated coming off as weak.
“What’s up?” Nora asked when they were all seated on the benches that lined the perimeter of the gazebo.
“I think I’m going to have to close the theater,” Maya said, and promptly burst into tears, shocking herself as much as her friends.
They showered her with hugs and expressions of surprise and sympathy. When she calmed down, she told them the story of the money trap of a building and the grant she hadn’t gotten. “It’s like a perfect storm, basically. An imperfect storm.”
“And I get the feeling the nonprofit arts sector is hard at the best of times,” Nora said sympathetically.
“I guess, but honestly, when I started this, I had visions of scaling up by now. Of making the theater a regional destination. But not only am I still small potatoes, I can only make payroll through the end of September.”
“Are you paying yourself?” Eve asked gently.
“No.” She swallowed her shame even as she told herself there wasn’t any reason to feel shame. “About ten months ago, when I found out about the grant, I cut my own living expenses as much as I could and reduced my salary. But I haven’t paid myself anything since May.”
“So that’s a month with no income,” Nora said. “What are you doing for money?”
She brushed her tears away and cleared her throat. “I still have enough to operate through the end of September, but only if I don’t pay myself, so my own living expenses for the past month have gone on credit cards. I’m trying to avoid having to lay off Marjorie and Richard.”
Both women were silent for a moment. She supposed it was a lot to take in. She had hidden her struggle well.
“So you need a loan,” Nora finally said, shifting into brisk efficiency mode.
“But do I? How would that do anything other than postpone the inevitable?”
“You need a loan and a plan,” Nora amended.
“Right. And I had one. Holden Hampshire.”
“Oh, now I get it!” Eve said. “I wondered why you were so fixated on him.”
“He was my Hail Mary. I’ve been doing all this stuff around the edges to try to increase revenue: selling wine at intermission, delaying repairs, reusing costumes. But I thought if I could get a big name in for the summer, I could sell out the run—and do a longer run, and shamelessly jack up ticket prices. I was planning to do that and then use some of the resulting cash to finally fix all the problems with the building. If the building isn’t sucking up all my money, and if the next round of granting goes better, then maybe I could get back on an even footing.”
“Maybe you’ll still hear from him?” Nora asked gently.
“I did hear from him.” Maya got out her phone and showed them the text where he said he was going to take a pass on the play.
“Dammit,” Eve said.
Maya stretched her neck, which ached all the time now. “What’s the matter with me? I gambled too much on the idea of him. I’m doing Much Ado about Nothing because I heard he wanted to do some Shakespeare and I thought the character of Benedick would be perfect for him. And now I’m stuck with a Shakespeare play instead of a musical.”
“You love Shakespeare, though,” Eve pointed out. “You always grumble about the summer musical.”