California Christmas Dreams. J.M. Jeffries

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      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 tried not to grin. She’d thought of something he hadn’t. “Why do you think places like Chapman, Knotts Berry Farm, Disney and Six Flags thrive year after year?”

      “Why don’t you tell me?” he asked, sitting back and looking amused.

      “Because they understand what the customer wants and they give it to them. That may be on a much grander scale than we can manage, but the principle is the same.”

      “All right,” he said with a shrug. “I’m going to give you this one. But I want to see a complete cost breakdown of every penny you want to spend.”

      “I don’t cut corners, Jake,” she warned.

      He nodded. “I understand.”

      She stared at him, trying to gauge the sincerity of his response. “I’ll get the cost analysis and email it to you when I get back to my office.”

      * * *

      After Merry left, Jake stood and went to the window to watch her walk along the path back to her office. He loved the way her hips swayed side to side as she walked. Occasionally she would stop and stare at a ride or an orange tree as though calculating what she would need to make the spot look Christmassy.

      She had fire and passion, he’d give her that. And even he could see she knew what she was talking about, but for some reason he couldn’t stop giving her a hard time. He’d wanted to see how she responded to obstacles, and the fact that she’d stood her ground and crafted a logical argument impressed him.

      His phone rang and he glanced at the display. Agent Orange, aka Cecil Jones, his newest client, was calling. Jake sighed, trying to decide if he should answer or let the call go to voice mail. He wasn’t certain he was up to dealing with this guy’s issues. Jake and Cecil’s lawyer had just done some fancy dancing with the IRS to fix the rapper’s tax problems. Things were just starting to look up. The guy had money in the bank from all the music he’d written for commercials. He was never going to be a rap superstar, but he was making a damn good living if he didn’t spend it all the way he wanted to.

      “Cecil,” Jake said. “What can I do for you?”

      “I found a house,” Cecil said without any other formality.