Chapter 3

three

BEN

I opened my laptop and found the project plan for the auction I was helping to organize. The Welcome Center was the only place in Sunrise Bay where people could go who were homeless or needed help. With winter fast approaching, the center was desperate for warm blankets and food.

"Have we received any more donations?" I asked Dylan.

He took a piece of paper from a folder and handed it to me. "Jenny and Allan from the general store are donating a barbecue. The model and the manufacturer's link are on that sheet of paper."

"I spoke to Andrew yesterday," Jonathon said. "He's made two beautiful gift baskets full of homemade jams, pickles, and chutneys. He also wants to donate a photo of Willow Lake, but it won't be ready for another week."

Dylan nibbled on one of the cookies Jonathon had brought with him. "This is slightly off topic, but have you thought of asking Andrew to sing at your wedding? I know he doesn't like being in the spotlight, but his voice is incredible."

"I've already asked him. He thinks it'll be okay, but he needs to make sure he's available."

A few years ago, Andrew had returned to Sunrise Bay after a hugely successful career as a country music singer. There was a lot of speculation about why he'd suddenly left Nashville, but I was glad he'd come home. We had a lot in common and had become good friends.

"Did we add Paul's cakes to the items to be auctioned?" Dylan asked.

I checked the list. "They're here. Including his cakes, we have forty-five items. We should be able to raise a lot of money for the center." I opened my email account. "I'll send everyone the timetable of what's happening on the night of the auction. Pastor Adam's happy to decorate the main meeting room at the church. All I have to do is give him the decorations and a list of where everything goes."

"What about ticket sales?" Jonathon reached for a cookie. "Paul advertised the auction in Amy's school newsletter. If that doesn't fill the meeting room, we could start advertising on Facebook."

Clicking on another tab, I opened the spreadsheet I used to keep track of door sales. "We only have twenty seats left. If ticket sales remain strong, we should have a sold-out audience."

That news made everyone smile.

I leaned forward, eager to tell my friends about the new project Pastor Adam had started. "What if we could do more than provide food and warm blankets for The Welcome Center?"

Dylan frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Boulder is creating a village of tiny houses for people who don't have a home. There are shared laundry and cooking facilities, and larger recreational areas for everyone to enjoy. They're even planning a shared community garden. We have the same problem as Boulder—hardly any rental accommodation and a waiting list of people who desperately need somewhere to live."

"But this isn't Boulder," Jonathon said. "We don't have the same number of homeless people or the same population."

"Everyone deserves a warm, safe place to live. Pastor Adam's church looks after at least thirty people each night. Some of them have been living at The Welcome Center for more than a year. What if we could create a community housing project that gives people hope?"

Just thinking about what we could achieve gave me goosebumps. Pastor Adam had already completed a feasibility study with other community and social service groups, and talked to the County Planning Department. All he needed was a fundraising committee to begin the project.

I opened Boulder's Housing First website. "The concept plans are amazing. Pastor Adam has talked to the agencies involved in Boulder's tiny home village. A team of architectural students designed the homes and can come to Sunrise Bay to help build the first home."

Dylan looked at the website. "How much does each house cost?"

"Fifteen thousand dollars. We wouldn't be able to create an entire village right away, but we could keep fundraising until we had enough homes to make a difference."

Jonathon sat back in his chair. "It'd take an enormous amount of time. We'd need some land and a lot of money to start building the homes."

I wasn't ready to give up at the first hurdle. "Pastor Adam runs a construction apprenticeship program at the church. He said his students could build the houses as part of their training. We also have a lot of retired people living in Sunrise Bay. They might want to help."

Dylan frowned. "You're really excited about this idea, aren't you?"

"I want it to be more than an idea. We all have successful careers that we've grown from nothing. We have different strengths we can bring to this project. Adam can't do this on his own but, if we work together, I know we could make it happen."

"Would Pastor Adam want us to help?" Jonathon asked.

"He'd love our help. The Welcome Center still needs food and blankets for the winter, but this could be a long-term project. The community's always looking at ways to make people's lives better. This would be an amazing opportunity for everyone."

Jonathon sipped his coffee. "I'm in. People aren't homeless by choice. If I can help someone else, I'll do it."

Dylan looked at his friends. "I'll do whatever I can to help, too."

"That's awesome. I knew you'd want to be involved."

"You'd better add Paul's name to the committee," Dylan said. "He'd disown us if we left him out."

My cell phone beeped. I read the name of the person who'd sent the email and sighed.

"Bad news?" Dylan asked.

"It's Wilson Enterprises again." I deleted the message. "Hopefully, they'll give up and stop contacting me."

Dylan sighed. "I'm sorry about entering you in the jewelry competition."

"It doesn't matter," I said quickly. "It would've been wonderful if I wanted the publicity."

"But you don't. Is there anything I can do?"

I shook my head. "I tried blocking their emails and phone calls. I don't understand why they keep contacting me. I've already sent them enough information for the article they want to write. Besides, in a few months, no one will remember who won the award." At least, I hoped so.

"Do they know the name you use as a jeweler is different from your legal name?" Jonathon asked.

"I don't think so. The emails I've received are addressed to B.J. Davis and come through my website. As long as they don't connect B.J. Davis with Ben Harper, I'll be okay." I typed some notes into my laptop. "I'll tell Pastor Adam we want to help with the tiny home project. But in the meantime, we'll focus on the auction for The Welcome Center. I'll send everyone a list of what we have to do in the next two weeks."

"And I'll check your email settings," Dylan said. "I can download a program that'll block all emails from Wilson Enterprises, regardless of where the message comes from."

As Dylan worked his magic on my laptop, my mind drifted to the jewelry award. In five weeks, a ceremony would be held in New York City, showcasing the best of the best in jewelry design. My necklace and earring set would be there, but I wouldn't. And for now, as much as I wanted to be recognized by my peers, that's the way it would have to stay.