about Gladys’s “retirement,” and there had been lots of hugs and tears. They’d then moved on to the updates. Plans for Fall Fashion Week had been discussed as well as a couple of tweaks to the Twelve Nights celebrations in December. The majority of the talk had centered around the progress on the upcoming Fourth of July events.
“It sounds like there’s still a lot of work to be done on the parade,” Ami whispered to Gladys, who sat on her left.
Gladys’s bright red lips curved. “Like I said on the phone, in the weeks ahead there will need to be a lot of coordination between Max Brody and the person who replaces me. Lots of tête-à-têtes. Business meetings. You know. Like the kind you and Beckett used to have when you first started dating.”
Recalling the outcome of some of those meetings, Ami felt her cheeks warm. She cleared her throat. “You’re going to back me?”
“Count on it. It’s a brilliant solution. You were so wise to think of it.”
Though Gladys’s innocent expression didn’t fool Ami in the least, she played along. “When you called to tell me you were stepping down and the Cherries would be looking for a replacement with an accounting background, Prim was the first one who crossed my mind.”
No need to mention she’d nearly discarded that thought. After all, her sister had just moved back and had a lot of settling in to do.
“Of course, in the interest of full disclosure I was compelled to mention that whoever replaced me would be spending hours of time alone with Max.”
Had Gladys really just wiggled her brows suggestively?
“That was kind of you to mention that fact.” Ami patted the older woman’s arm. “It might be a problem for some.”
Or a blessing. Ami hid a smug smile. She’d been horrified when Prim had told her she didn’t plan to date until the boys were out of high school. That was crazy talk. No way was Ami letting that happen. Her younger sister had so much love to give. She shouldn’t have to wait another twelve years for her prince.
Especially when that prince lived right next door.
“Ladies.” Eliza raised her voice to be heard above the chatter.
The room immediately silenced.
Ami straightened in her chair, exchanging a conspiratorial smile with Gladys.
“This is the part of our meeting where we accept nominations from the floor. As we discussed earlier, Gladys will be impossible to replace, but we’ll do our best to fill her shoes.” Eliza gestured to Gladys and everyone applauded. Again.
When Gladys started to rise, Ami nearly groaned. They’d already been treated to several lengthy farewell addresses from their departing treasurer.
Eliza must have sensed another speech coming on because she spoke quickly. “Please raise your hand to offer nominations. Wait to be recognized. I’d like both the person’s name and qualifications.”
Ami shot her arm high in the air.
Eliza’s gaze swept right past the waving hand as if it weren’t there.
“Eliza,” Lynn Chapin called out. “I believe Ami has her hand up.”
The smile on Eliza’s face never wavered. “Thank you, Lynn.”
Eliza glanced at Ami and made an impatient go-ahead gesture.
“I’d like to nominate my sister, Primrose Bloom Delaney.” Ami spoke in a loud, clear voice. “Prim has a degree in accounting, worked as an actuary for many years in Milwaukee, and has recently moved back to Good Hope to stay. She’s very organized and can be counted on to get things done. Thank you.”
Applause broke out in the room, quieted by one swift slice of Eliza’s hand.
“The problem is,” Eliza said, that phony smile still on her lips and her voice sugary sweet, “Prim is new to our community. I think we’d like someone with a little more investment in Good Hope for this opening.”
“I have a friend—” Katie Ruth Crewes began, then halted when Gladys shot her the stink eye. “On second thought, I don’t think she has time right now.”
Gladys raised one bony