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.“I still think you should tell the detective.If you don’t want to tell him, there’s a friend of mine who can help you.”The door opened.Garrison walked in.“Hello ladies.” Noting the multitude of beer bottles on the table, Garrison raised an eyebrow.“Are we celebrating something?”I picked up one of the bottles and wiggled it back and forth, sloshing beer onto my hand and the table.“They’re full.”“I’m not drinking them, just buying.” Marsha held one index finger in the air.“Another one.”“Your partner said no further alcohol purchases on the company’s rooms,” the bartender said.“I might have a credit card with me.” Marsha reached over, grasped a purse, and plopped it onto her lap.She rummaged around inside.“I got a lot of stuff in here.I need to clean this purse out more often.”“I hate to interrupt but there’s a slight issue at the crop,” Garrison said.“Lydia can handle it.” Marsha let the purse slip from her lap and brought a bottle of beer close to her, almost hugging it to her bosom.“She’s not in the room right now.The volunteer at the registration desk doesn’t know what to do.”“I’ll head over there in a few minutes.” Marsha added a sigh at the end.“It might get worse by then.There’s an issue regarding a seating assignment.Apparently, a change wasn’t noted and now a cropper who shouldn’t be at a table is, and one who should isn’t.”I groaned.If there was one type of drama that could get out of hand quickly at a crop, it was seat assignments.“Tell her to go by the table chart I made.There is a spot for every paid attendee.” Marsha placed her purse back onto the floor.“Your chart is the problem,” Garrison said.Marsha heaved a large tote onto the table.She yanked files from it and slapped them on the table.“If these women stopped making last minute changes everything would be fine.I had three emails last night.Two this morning.When will it end?”I patted her hand.“We’ll help.I’ve managed crops for Scrap This, and Garrison is a doctor so I’m sure he’s good with schedules.”Garrison opened up the folder.“I work at the ER so I’m used to hectic.We’ll help you get this sorted out.”“How?” She pulled sheets of paper out of the tote and waved them in air.“This woman wants to sit with three particular women, and one of those three doesn’t want to sit with her.How can I make them all happy? This was supposed to be easy.”Marsha was one lucky gal to have always cropped with women who got along.Even my grandmothers and I had moments when we need a few feet more of table space between us.“I think I’ll move these out of the way so we have space to work.” Garrison picked up a few bottles and motioned for the bartender.The bartender came over with a tray and in a few seconds all the beer was gone.Marsha stared at the mass of paper in front of her.“Lydia is right.I’m a major screw-up, and if this business busts it’s all my fault.Again.”I kept quiet, knowing now was a time for silence.I was intrigued about the dynamic between the two business partners.If Marsha had a habit of making huge mistakes and a drinking problem, why did Lydia put her in control of the make-it-or-break aspects of the crop?“One seating issue isn’t going to ruin you,” Garrison said.Garrison must not attend crops much, or else cropped with a more amicable set of people.Sitting a bickering duo together might not break a crop, but it would make for an unpleasant weekend for a lot of people.“Does the dissenter say why she doesn’t want to sit with that particular cropper?”Marsha shuffled through the forms.“We didn’t have a space for reasons why you don’t want to sit by someone.”I leaned across the table to get a look at the registration form.“She might have offered an unsolicited reason.”“I’m hoping so.” Marsha scanned the paper then flipped it over and looked at the back.“Nothing.”“Check the sheets of the other women.Maybe there’s a clue on one of them.”Marsha shoved the stack at me.“You figure it out.”The door opened and some women entered, grumbling about the delay in being able to set up.As this was a group of six wearing matching scrapbook slogan t-shirts, I figured they weren’t the embattled croppers.I read through the forms.The “excluded cropper” had noted she wanted to sit under an air-conditioning vent.I bet the “excluder” was on the cold-blooded side and didn’t want to freeze all weekend.We could work with this.“Have this group sit at one of the tables near Scrap This.” I tugged the seating chart from the bottom of the pile.It was a hodgepodge of highlighting, writing, and cross-outs.No one, probably even Marsha, could make heads or tails from it.I circled a four-person table with only two croppers at it.“Put the group of four with the dissenter here so she can have a seat with her back to the window.That should keep her warm during the day.”“And these two?” Marsha tapped the page.“Do you mind if you were moved?” I showed the chart to Garrison.Bob and Garrison had been placed at a table near the front of the crop room near a door –one of the least desirable spots since it was the main exit into and out of the cropping area.“As long as we’re together, Bob and I won’t care,” Garrison said.“Perfect.” I jotted down Bob and Garrison in the two spaces left at Gussie and Darlene’s table.One of those spots was for me to crop at when things got slow, but as Bob wasn’t a scrapper I could still set up my crafting station and it would help Bob “sell” his cover.“All fixed.”Marsha studied it.The stress on her face dissolved.“This will work.I’ll just go pretty it up.”The door opened.Morgan.He looked around the room and when he spotted Garrison and me, a slow smile spread across his face.He sauntered inside.Apparently, whatever he wanted to say to me, he had no problems saying in front of an audience.I tilted my chin up and met his eyes.No cowering.“So we meet up again.” Morgan walked two fingers down my arm.I smacked his hand away.“No.This is not a meeting [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]