The Checklist, Addie Woolridge [ebook reader for pc and android txt] 📗

“So luxurious,” Deep said as they stopped to take stock of the room.

To Dylan’s relief, Tim had not situated himself under the giant cross. Rather, he was posted uncomfortably at a makeshift check-in table, arguing with what looked like the campground director. Whatever they were discussing, Tim was not winning the argument.

“I should go check in with the boss.”

“I’ll pray for you,” Deep said, wheeling her massive suitcase over the lumpy linoleum toward what looked like a school lunchroom counter.

Weaving her way through the crowded room, Dylan watched Tim yank at his hair with one hand before dropping it to his side with force. The camp director took a step back to put space between himself and an agitated Tim. This was a bit of an overreaction on the camp director’s part, since Tim couldn’t have been more than 155 pounds soaking wet, but Dylan picked up the pace anyway. The last thing she needed was a headline about Tim Gunderson beating up a Christian-camp director.

“Good morning. Dylan Delacroix. Nice to meet you,” she said, extending her hand to the camp director.

The man paused a moment, taking in her jacket, before reaching out. “Joe Woychowski.”

“Pleasure to meet you. How’s it going?” Dylan tried to sound casual as she strategically positioned herself between Tim and Joe. Joe was a stout individual, but Dylan had nearly a foot on him and a good four inches on Tim. She decided her size might be a mitigating factor if either one of them got out of hand.

“This ignoramus will not let us switch campsites.” Tim wasted no time restoring the frost Dylan had worked to thaw.

“And as I explained in my email this morning, we understand he made a mistake, but we are unable to correct his error because another company has already booked the luxury site.”

“So . . . what? I’m stuck with a pack of wild animals on the walls, bunk beds, and no Wi-Fi?” Tim threw his hands in the air at “no Wi-Fi.”

“Let me understand. Tim, you meant to book a different campsite?”

“Yes. Dylan. Explain to this man that we are a tech company. No Wi-Fi equals no work. Plus, all the stuffed animals are creeping me out. Their eyes follow you; did you notice?”

Dylan suppressed a shudder and avoided eye contact with the bobcat above Joe’s head. “Can we make this site work? You mentioned bunk beds?”

“Yes. This site is primarily a children’s church campsite.”

“Must have been why it was a good deal,” Tim said under his breath, eyeing an elk across the room.

“We have enough beds for everyone. Each bunkhouse sleeps twenty-two people,” Joe said.

“Right. So we can make this space work. Thank you, Joe. Would you mind getting us a few site maps so we can start getting people settled in?”

“Not a problem,” Joe said, glaring at Tim as he turned to go.

“We can’t stay here. What the hell are we gonna do? Tell campfire stories? Then this guy is telling me they have one, just one, desktop computer we can access in the reading lounge, which, by the way, only has Baby-Sitters Club books.”

“Good book series.”

“Really? I was more of a Baby-Sitters Little Sister fan.” Tim stopped his rant to give her a sideways look, then shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. We’re screwed.”

“Hardly. I don’t know what else you have planned for the next couple days, but we can make this work.” Dylan forced herself to believe what she was saying. Pulling her eyes off the walls, she looked around the room. The novelty of posting the decor on social media was already wearing off, and people were getting antsy.

“Were you going to expound on how we are not screwed? Or just say something hopeful and wait for someone else to strike gold?” Tim said, waving his hand in front of her face.

“No need to be mean. I’m not the one who booked a kids’ campsite without consulting the consultant,” Dylan said, looking down at him and serving up the extra sass that had been hanging around since she and Nicolas had broken up.

“I’m sorry.” Tim put his hands up in submission. “Can you help?”

“Well, I’m trying. But don’t think we won’t dissect this once we get back to a place with Wi-Fi,” Dylan said. “I think we act like this mix-up is a team-building exercise.” She paused to let him finish rolling his eyes before she continued. “Take an activity out of Team Building 101 to assign cabins. Make everyone get in groups of eleven by favorite ice cream or animal or something.”

“Then what?”

“Let them get settled in. After that, you run a modified version of your plan with pens and paper. I’ll make a run to the store for poster board, and I’m sure they have markers lying around here somewhere.”

Tim looked around the room, apprehensive. “I guess I don’t have much of a choice. We can’t send people home after they got all the way up here.”

Dylan thought more than a few people would probably like to go home, especially after catching sight of the walls, but she nodded anyway.

“No time like the present,” he added.

“Actually, we should wait until Joe gets back with—” Dylan said, but Tim was already on the move, pulling his shoulders back and striding toward the giant hearth under the cross. Dylan’s eyes roved around the expansive room, eventually finding Joe holding a megaphone and cradling a stack of paper. She waved him over as Tim hopped onto the hearthstone, shouting to little effect. The people nearest him turned around and took three steps back to get out of spit range, but the hall was so big that the sizable crowd stationed by the coffee stand hadn’t even noticed he was talking. Shrugging, Tim lifted his hand to his mouth and pulled off a wolf whistle that would be the envy of gym teachers across the continental United States.

“Welcome!” Tim stretched up, cupping his hands around his mouth in an attempt to amplify the sound. “I hope you all