Free The Aloha Quilt by Jennifer Chiaverini

anyone.”
    Claire smiled. “I think so, too. Tempting, isn’t it? Just wait until winter, when
     your friends back home call you to complain about the latest blizzard. You’ll never
     want to leave.”
    Bonnie laughed. “We’ll see.” Claire knew how to tempt her too well. She remembered
     how Bonnie had always hated dragging herself out of bed on cold winter mornings and
     bundling herself in layers for the frigid walk across campus through the snow.
    They began their first official business meeting by discussing their goals for Aloha
     Quilt Camp. Both wanted to offertheir guests a unique retreat experience with opportunities to learn new techniques,
     to work on individual projects, and to experience Hawaiian culture. Bonnie emphasized
     social activities for quilters to foster new friendships, and Claire threw around
     a lot of business jargon about profitability and market share that convinced Bonnie
     that her impulsive friend had, for once, thought ahead and planned carefully.
    Then Claire quizzed Bonnie about the founding of Elm Creek Quilt Camp. Bonnie gave
     her the condensed version of how Sarah had devised the plan to turn Elm Creek Manor
     into a quilters’ retreat to preserve Sylvia’s family estate; how the combination of
     Sarah’s business acumen, Sylvia’s teaching experience, and Summer’s Internet skills
     had enabled them to launch Elm Creek Quilts within a year; and how the members of
     their quilting bee had become the camp’s first teachers.
    Claire stretched out on the grass mat, tucked the empty beach bag under her head for
     a pillow, and frowned thoughtfully at the underside of the umbrella. “So… you assembled
     your faculty first and allowed them to teach the classes of their choice. You didn’t
     create a program and then find the best teachers for those courses.”
    “We didn’t really assemble our faculty,” Bonnie said. “We were already friends, and
     several of us had already taught classes through my quilt shop. Our interests are
     so varied that we can cover all of the basic quilting topics and many more specialized
     techniques without needing to bring in outside teachers. It just worked out that way.”
    “Unfortunately, I don’t have a ready-made team of teachers hanging around,” said Claire,
     sighing. “I’ll have to find them and recruit them.”
    “Surely your quilt shop helps you keep in touch with all of the local quilting teachers.”
    “Yes, but whether they’d want to leave their current gigs to help me is another question.”
    “They wouldn’t be doing it as a favor. You
are
planning to pay them, right?” In response, Claire swatted her lightly with the nearest
     suitable object, a piece of fallen palm leaf. “Working at a quilters’ retreat benefits
     your teachers, too, and not just because of a paycheck. It’s great experience and
     wonderful exposure if they enjoy traveling to teach workshops at quilt guilds or if
     they sell their own pattern lines.”
    “You’ve convinced me,” said Claire. “Now convince them.”
    “First we have to decide whether you’ll need one teacher and an assistant or two,
     or several teachers with different areas of expertise. And that depends upon how you
     want to set up your program.”
    “I just figured we’d duplicate what you do at Elm Creek Quilt Camp.”
    “You can’t, not really. You only have one classroom.” Bonnie traced patterns in the
     sand with the palm leaf. “Maybe Aloha Quilt Camp could offer classes in a different
     quilting technique each morning, so that campers could sign up for those that appeal
     to them and skip the others. Or you could offer instruction on a single, advanced
     project, such as a traditional Hawaiian quilt from start to finish, with new steps
     presented each day in a morning seminar.”
    “Why can’t we do both? Why couldn’t we have one week focused on a single project followed
     by a week offering a variety of classes?”
    “That’ll make hiring