AllFreeNovel
Share Us
By the time I made it to the third floor, I was ready. No overconfident, mediocre man would bully me into destroying a single one of my town’s landmarks, including my home.
As soon as my foot hit the third-floor landing, a harried-looking woman in her fifties hooked her arm through mine and hissed, “He’s early, the rat bastard.”
“Guess we can’t add tardiness to his sins.”
“Shame,” the woman replied, pursing red-painted lips. Minnie Shepherd had worked as a clerk in the council offices almost her entire life. She knew every inch of the building better than the architects who’d designed it, and she made sure things ran smoothly. She was a gem.
She was also a huge gossip, but that was the price to pay to cut through red tape with the efficiency of a middle-aged woman who’d decided long ago she wasn’t putting up with anyone’s shit.
“He’s younger than I imagined,” she informed me. “Real snooty-like. If you were planning on muscling him into submission, I don’t think it’ll work. I think you’re going to have to be more subtle than that. Catch him out with your cleverness.”
I nodded. “No chance of appealing to his softer side?”
Despite our year-long email acquaintance, part of me had hoped Sebastian Anderson would see reason when he finally visited New Elwood. Naive of me, I know. But I’d entertained tiny, quiet fantasies of him driving down Main Street, seeing the gorgeous Monticello Theater, and deciding he didn’t want to raze it, after all.
“Hon, if that man has a softer side, there’s only one person who’s ever going to see it: his wife.”
“That’s an interesting angle,” I mused. “Can we make contact?”
“His future, hypothetical wife,” Minnie amended, grimacing. She met my questioning gaze. “No ring.”
“Ah,” I said. There went that idea.
“You and the girls coming to the Hooker’s Paradise tonight?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” My girlfriends and I weren’t big on crocheting, but my mom had started the club a couple of decades ago, and it had turned into a bi-weekly ritual that we only skipped in dire circumstances.
“Evelyn knows a good recipe for tea that’ll make Anderson shit his brains out for three full days. Nearly killed her second ex-husband with it.”
My lips twitched. “We’ll keep that one in our back pocket.”
Our steps echoed as we walked toward the meeting room I’d reserved for this confrontation. I chose a beautiful room, but not the most beautiful room. It had a gorgeous aspect looking out on the green space in front of the building, but it was out of the way.
The message: You ain’t that important, Anderson, and we ain’t going to let you push us around. You’ll see a hint of what we’ve got to offer, but we’re not rolling out the red carpet for the likes of you.
The door loomed. I could hear voices—the mayor, Regis Greene, and someone else. Someone familiar.
My steps slowed as I frowned. Did I know Anderson somehow? Why did his voice sound like I’d heard it before?
“Don’t lose your nerve, Charlie, hon,” Minnie chided. “He’s just a man, and men can be worked. All else fails, just plant an idea in his big, dumb head and make him think he came up with it. Works like a charm.”
“It’s not that,” I answered, but there was no time to explain, because Minnie was pulling open the door the men had left ajar.
“Ah! Here’s our superstar clerk,” the mayor boomed, but I barely heard him.
Because the man standing next to Regis Greene was tall, dark, handsome, and clothed in a three-piece suit.
For a change.
My downstairs neighbor’s face showed an infinitesimal inkling of surprise when he took me in. His eyes widened as they met mine, then his face quickly went blank as his gaze dropped to my lips and lingered there for a second. Then he took in my outfit, all the way down to the bare legs below my knees and the fabulous six-inch heels. He adjusted his silk tie.
All this happened in slow motion while my brain shut down and rebooted, trying to make sense of what the hell my new neighbor was doing in my meeting room, and why he was looking at me like that.
The mayor prattled on, probably introducing me, but all I could hear was the howling in my head.
My brain came back online. The penny dropped.
“Sebastian Anderson,” I gritted out, clutching my leather portfolio so hard it creaked.
