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Less than a minute into her presentation, I’m worried. Three minutes in, I’m scared. This woman is slick, and she’s obviously not new to making her case in front of an audience. She’s witty and confident, and her slides, which include lush stock photos and a mock-up from three different angles of what the Addison building will look like when she’s done, have obviously been professionally designed.
Moreover, she’s done her research.
She talks about the projected growth for the tourist industry in the area, using the town’s and the county’s own statistics. She has a plan to turn the Addison into a day spa aimed at the high-end tourist market. It’s an all-year-round industry that will bring people into town and dovetails beautifully with other businesses on the main drag like the new art gallery and that celebrity chef restaurant I keep hearing about. She’s willing to pay for the property and will go through a local bank for any funding she can’t supply on her own. She promises full-time as well as part-time jobs, and when she mentions the projected tax revenue that it could bring into the town, both Blaze and I swallow audibly. Neither of us can compete with that.
It’s a damn good presentation. If I weren’t in direct competition with her, I’d probably be all excited to see her turn the Addison into a day spa myself.
I lean toward Blaze, and for once I’m not teasing or letting my hormones run the show.
“We should talk,” I whisper.
12
JEREMY
I guess there’s some truth to the old saying my enemy’s enemy is my friend. Twenty minutes after the end of the council meeting, I’m seated at a high-top table at the back of Cantina across from Blaze.
I’ve got a pint of beer, she’s got an Old Fashioned, which surprised me a little. I’d have figured her more for the white-wine type.
I raise my pint glass in her direction. “Cheers. Looks like the town council is dicking around with both of us.”
She raises her tumbler toward me in a reluctant toast. “Welcome to Welkins Ridge politics. You don’t know the half of it.”
I clink my glass to hers. “I guess I’m finding out.”
She takes a sip of her drink. “Scarlett freakin’ Rice, of all people,” she mutters.
“You know her?”
“We went to high school together.”
“So she’s a friend?”
“Not a friend,” Blaze replies in the tone of voice usually reserved for people who poison your pets. “I’d rather see you get the Addison than her.”
It’s clear she doesn’t mean that as a compliment, but it’s as good an opening as any. “Well, I’d rather see you get it than her. So we’ve got that much in common.”
She narrows her eyes. “Why? What do you have against her?”
I have to think about that for a moment. Mostly, it’s because my gut tells me something is off. Maybe my perception is being colored by Christine and my experience with her, but there was something a little too polished about Scarlett’s presentation, a little too corporate for someone who’s just opening a local day spa.
But it’s also true that Blaze, however entitled she is, is doing good things with the library. I’m part of this community now, and I want to see it thrive.
“Look, I’m not sure how we got off to such a bad start,” I begin. Well, because she came storming into my station making demands, obviously, but I’m not going to bring that up now. “But you’re clearly an asset to the community, and something about this Scarlett woman and her presentation—I can’t put my finger on it, but I didn’t get good vibes about it.”
“Me neither!” Blaze exclaims, then becomes more reserved. “But we have some history, so maybe I’m just biased.”
“You want to tell me about it?” I’m not sure if she will or if it’s any of my business anyway, but I figure the more I learn about Scarlett Rice-Johnson, the better prepared I’ll be.
Blaze pokes at her drink with the two tiny straws it came with. “Like I said, we went to high school together,” she finally says. “She was a senior when I was a freshman. She was super-popular, head cheerleader and all that crap, and she and her friends were just horrible to me and my friend Joyce. Well, you’ve met Joyce. But mostly to me.”
“Joyce from the Flying Saucer? Yeah, I know her.” I spoke to her and her boyfriend-slash-lawyer a couple of times after we put out the fire that almost destroyed her building last winter. “She’s hosting a fundraiser for the station in July.”
“So I heard.” Blaze’s voice is dry. “Anyway,” she continues, “Scarlett made my life miserable until she graduated and went to college. The last I heard, she’d married some guy who owned a tech firm in California. She came into the library last week. I thought she just came in to be bitchy to me, but she said something about her and her husband looking to invest in the real estate around here.”
She takes a sip of her drink and puts the tumbler down again. “She never had anything good to say about this town. Relative to most people around here, her parents have a lot of money, and she’s a total snob. She made it very clear that she was destined for better things than staying in Welkins Ridge all her life. I can’t imagine why she’d come back.”
I shrug. “People grow up. Maybe she really does want to do something good for the community.” Blaze snorts, and I chuckle. “You really don’t like this woman, do you?”
