California Christmas Dreams. J.M. Jeffries

is going to cost a lot of money,” Jake said after a long, uncomfortable silence.

      “Yes, the initial outlay is going to cost. We have sets to build and costumes to make, but what I’m planning here is something that will be multifunctional. I’ll repurpose the same props for Easter, summertime, Halloween and then Christmas again. And your father gave me a budget. I think I can meet it and maybe spend even less if I can get a lot of local college students to help me with things. They get course credit and I get cheap labor.”

      He didn’t say anything, and Merry waited uncomfortably. He looked skeptical. She racked her brain trying to think of the right things to say that would sway him. “I haven’t got a hope in hell in convincing you this is a good idea. Why did you even bother to talk to me?”

      Surprise lit his eyes at her directness. “Dad is sixty-seven years old. He should be tuna fishing in Cancun or chasing nubile Tahitian girls.”

      Her eyes opened wide. “Wow. Do you really think your dad wants to chase Tahitian girls? So we know how you intend to spend your retirement.”

      “Hell, no, not me,” Jake said, shaking his head vigorously.

      “Your dad has a lot of life left in him. Why shouldn’t he do what he wants to do?”

      “Because this is a dying park.”

      “No,” she said, “not dying, just a little lost. This park doesn’t know what it wants to be when it grows up.”

      “And you do.”

      She looked him directly in the eye. “Yes, I do.” She took his hand and tugged him toward the door. “Come on. I want to really show you my vision.”

      She opened the door and dragged him out back into the park. “This park has so much potential. Nowadays, it’s not enough to just look pretty. You have to provide substance, too.”

      “You can’t remake this park into a mini Chapman Brothers.”

      He didn’t resist the pull of her hand, but she sensed he didn’t really want to come with her. Not that he dragged his feet like a child, but she felt that he had no enthusiasm for his father’s dream.

      “No one can compete with the Chapman Brothers. They have a studio, their own amusement park to advertise their movies and a ton of visitors who come every year from all over the world. I, of all people, would know.”

      “Then what’s the point?” he asked as she drew him toward the miniature golf course.

      “There’s room for everyone. This is going to be a different experience.” She drew him to a small bridge that gave him an overview of the three courses that were woven together. “Look at this. What do you see?”

      “Miniature golf.”

      She shook her head. “Look at each course. What is the theme of each course?”

      “I don’t see one.”

      “Right. So think of each section as a microcosm of California. Hollywood on course one with famous movie posters and a miniature Hollywood sign. Maybe some lights, a few director’s chairs and fake cameras. The second course could be based on the different missions in California. The basic structures are already there. We just need to tweak it a little bit. And for course three, San Francisco at its finest. The Golden Gate Bridge, Alcatraz, streetcars, Lombard Street. Each course would have its own unique theme.”

      His face was blank. “If you don’t want to be better than competing parks, why bother?”

      “I want to be different.” She wanted to stamp her foot at his ignorance. “You need to see the differences. The differences are what make this place unique, and I’m going to bring all those hidden bones to the surface and make this park shine.”

      “And suck my father’s life savings away.”

      “That was cruel,” she said. “You don’t even know me. I want to be part of this. I want to bring this park back to life. And so does your dad. It has good bones, Mr. Walters, and I think you’re selling your father short. And I know you’re selling me short.” She turned on her heel and walked away.

      Chapter 3

      “I need more funds in the project’s budget in order to pay the costume designer.” Merry stood in what used to be John’s office and was now somehow Jake’s. She wasn’t certain how that had happened, but instead of going to John for the money, she was arguing with Jake instead.

      “This is a lot of money for just a bunch of sketches,” Jake said.

      Merry closed her eyes in an effort to stifle her frustration. “Candace Frenche has designed for Martin Scorsese, Joss Whedon and J.J. Abrams. She’s won two Oscars in costume design. She put James Cameron on hold to do this for me—and she deeply discounted her price.”

      “I get that this woman is the Bentley of designers, and I don’t want my dad to fail in this, but this is a lot of money for just the designs. And it’s running over the costume budget.”

      Oh, please, please, please, Merry thought. Don’t let him see how horrified I am. “Did you think Candace was going to design the costumes for free?”

      “I expected you to work within the budget we agreed on,” Jake said. He sat behind the desk, looking calm and unruffled.

      “I hire the best people I can get for a reasonable price. A lot of these people are working for me way cheaper than they do for anyone else, as a favor. I am getting you a huge deal. You can call anybody up and ask them how much they pay for Candace’s services and they’ll tell you. I know how to save money, but right here—” she pounded a finger on the bill “—is not the place to cut costs. These costumes need to be high quality.” She’d taken responsibility for much of the labor herself to save money. “Your father gave me a budget and I’ve saved money in other areas, but I need your approval to shift some money around to cover the designs.”

      He took the paper and studied it critically. “How do I know these figures aren’t going to balloon into more needed funds?”

      She wanted to pull her hair, or maybe she should pull his. He looked so smug and self-satisfied. And gorgeous. Try as she might, Merry couldn’t forget how hot he looked. She didn’t understand why John would turn over the money handling to his son. She didn’t think she could manage weeks of arguing with him. “I don’t know. But I’ve planned and worked up spreadsheets, which I gave to your father as estimates. I’m working hard to stay as close to the budget as I can. Am I going to fight with you over every penny?”

      She wanted to tell John that this wasn’t part of the bargain. Yet at the same time, she was ready to go to war with Jake. She couldn’t believe the man didn’t have faith in his father. John was a shrewd businessman and he knew what he wanted and how to get it. Why couldn’t his son see that?

      “It’s easy to overspend without even realizing it,” Jake said, his eyes narrowing as though assessing her agitation. “This isn’t like your former job where money isn’t always an issue.”

      “Money’s always an issue,” she said with a laugh. Though she had to admit that with billions of dollars available an occasional overrun was hardly noticed. “You’re not just buying Christmas this year, but Christmas for the next twenty years. The better the quality now, the less money spent later. Plus, you need me. Not only can I make what we need for today, but I can repurpose all the props for the next twenty years and still make them relevant. You can’t afford to be penny-wise and pound-foolish. It’s better to spend now and maintain what we have than buy cheap year after year. Trust me, in the end all the props, costumes and decorations will cost more than you know. Plus, if you buy cheap now, people coming to the park will see the cheap decorations and think the rides aren’t being maintained properly because we couldn’t be bothered to get quality in the decorations.”

      His eyebrows went up at that statement.

      She