Snow Falling on Bluegrass by Molly Harper

seated. “You let her craft after midnight again, didn’t you? You know she makes bad rhinestone decisions when she’s sleep deprived!”
    â€œI swear, I thought I took away the BeDazzler.” He sighed, shaking his head. “She must have a backup somewhere in the house.”
    â€œThey are a little shiny,” Sadie admitted, hanging a blank poster board on one of the blanketed frames. “But now they match our Winter Wonderland theme.”
    â€œOh, man, she’s serious about this,” Dorie Ann said, her dark hair falling in a tangle over her face as she shook her head. “I’ll go get my sketchpad. This situation is just weird enough for Sadie to have her best idea ever.”
    â€œThat’s the spirit!” Sadie exclaimed, clapping our reluctant graphic designer on the back. She slapped her hand against the blank poster board. “Okay, people, this is our suggestion board. For every day we are trapped here, someone will suggest a new campaign theme. We will keep doing this until we hit the right idea. The person who comes up with that right idea will get a special prize.”
    â€œAn iPad?” Gina guessed.
    â€œA paid day off?” Tom suggested.
    Jacob raised his hand. “The last ration of food before we all turn to cannibalism?”
    Sadie looked more than a little aghast. “I was going to say bragging rights, but clearly I’m going to have to up my game.”
    With the office team seated, Will seemed unsure of himself as he took the chair next to Bonnie. This would be very different from the sort of meeting he was used to. Bonnie said the Mud Creek town council had lost their meeting facility when the municipal building was destroyed a few years ago, so they mostly met in a diner and had pie while discussing city budget issues and potholes. Still, Will was the sort of guy who relaxed once he was able to talk a little bit. And I had salted Sadie’s talking points with subjects that would appeal to him. He would relax into his role on this little panel by the end of the day.
    â€œSo, who has an idea for this summer’s campaign?” Sadie asked, Sharpie marker at the ready.
    Jacob raised his hand and Sadie practically beamed at him. Jacob rarely participated in our brainstorming sessions, preferring to hang back until our plans were concrete and then put them into action. “Jacob! Great! What’s your idea?”
    â€œI’m going to grow a beard while we’re here,” he said.
    Sadie frowned. “Well, great, but that’s not really what I had in mind.”
    â€œI’ve always wanted to try it, but we have the dress code requirements about not looking scruffy. And now it would be downright dangerous for me to shave in a dark bathroom, right?”
    â€œI want to try one, too,” Tom said. “My wife hates them, says they’re too scratchy against her face. But what about me? It’s my face. I want to see what I look like with a beard. So I’m going to do it.”
    Jacob scoffed. “Yeah, right, because I’m growing a beard. I don’t need a facial hair twin. Lame.”
    â€œPlease.” Tom snorted. “I’ll be in full Duck Dynasty mode by the time you manage a little peach fuzz.”
    â€œYou wanna bet?”
    â€œThat I’ll grow a fuller, more manly beard than you by the time we get out of here?” Tom sneered. “Yes.”
    â€œLook, I’m loving the enthusiasm,” Sadie interjected. “I really think we should focus on campaign-related—”
    â€œI’ll take that bet.” Jacob laughed. “If you lose, I get to put that Eagles reunion CD you listen to on repeat in the shredder, you freaking hippie.”
    â€œThat’s not really what this is about.” Sadie sighed.
    Tom countered, “And if I win, I get to roast marshmallows over those stupid motivational posters you have hanging all over your cubicle.