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“Ouch,” I said. “Now I wish I hadn’t gotten you this.” I extended the second cup.
She dropped her gaze to the proffered cup, surprise flitting across her expression. Taking the cup, she popped the lid, gave it a little sniff, and let out a hum of pleasure. “Vanilla cappuccino. How did you know?”
I shrugged. “Lucky guess.”
Charlie gave me a squinty-eyed look, but I thought I saw a glint of pleasure in her eyes. “Thanks.”
That tiny curl of a smile on the very corner of her lips gave me a stronger rush of adrenaline than the world’s tallest bungee jump. This woman was becoming a problem, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to solve it.
But hell. It was one coffee. I wasn’t handing her the Monticello on a silver platter. Couldn’t a man do a good deed once in a while?
She took a sip and licked a little foam off her lip, and I followed the movement of her tongue. Clearing my throat, I turned toward the doors.
We made our way into the theater, and it reeked of ammonia and the chemical lemon-scented cleaning agents we’d been using. I wasn’t sure if it was that we’d actually begun to spruce the place up or what, but somehow it seemed brighter. Cheerier. Like a little life had returned and resurrected it from the grave. I shoved my toe into the thin carpet fibers. Too bad I was going to have to kill it again.
With our coffees in tow, we return to our respective duties. Charlie sat on the staircase making calls to sell advertising space on the marquee while I worked with the contractors to make sure no one broke their neck removing the chandelier. As the hours passed, I began to notice little nuances about the theater that I hadn’t seen before. Like the detail on the brass banister and the intricately painted ceiling. I thought about my mom and dad’s first date and tried to imagine them, fourteen years old, walking into the theater.
It wasn’t all bad. Everyone in town probably had memories in this place. But tearing it down was still the best option. The business development in Arlington was too big to pass up. It was my future, my mother’s well-deserved restitution, and the end of my grandmother’s stranglehold on our family. I couldn’t give that up for a few musty old memories. Even if they belonged to my mom.
Or anyone else.
I glanced at Charlie, who was speaking into her phone and waving at one of the laborers on the far side of the lobby. He grinned at her and winked. Throwing the man a glare for reasons I couldn’t quite explain, I shook my head and turned my attention back to the chandelier.
At lunchtime, the crew had dispersed for a break, but Charlie kept at it, not pausing for a second. She was determined, all right. Smart. Resourceful. Grudging respect for her was growing in my black heart like a weed. But I still couldn’t get behind her restoration rescue, no matter how honorable.
I walked down the old staircase just as a visitor arrived. Right on time.
“Are you Mr. Anderson?” the woman asked. She was about my mother’s age, dressed in a navy pantsuit with rosy cheeks.
“Yes, you must be Mrs. Sheffield.”
The councilwoman extended her hand. “Sure am. Call me Dolores.”
I shot her my winning let’s-do-business-together smile and offered her a handshake. “Thank you for coming by.”
She stood back and assessed the lobby. “Wow, you’re really putting a lot of elbow grease into this place.”
“We are, and it’s only the lobby. I can’t tell you how much time and effort and money is going into it. To be honest, I’m a little concerned there may not be enough in the budget to get it all done before the gala,” I said, and Dolores frowned.
“Really? It’s a pretty significant budget. Regis had to pull funds from other festival projects to make it happen.”
“That’s the thing about these old buildings. You never know how much a restoration—even a small one—will cost.”
“The budget’s fine. We’re making it work.” Charlie appeared behind us, a fold forming between her brows.
“Oh, Charlie. Good to see you.” Dolores greeted her with a hug and Charlie glared at me over the councilwoman’s padded shoulder. Any goodwill that cappuccino got me was apparently gone.
“Can I show you what we’ve done so far?” Charlie asked, pulling Dolores further inside.
“Actually, there’s a few things I’d like to show Dolores first. After all, I was the one who requested the meeting, and I’m sure she’s very busy.”
I shot Charlie a polite smile, but I knew my eyes were saying, Back off, devil-woman. You won’t steal the councilwoman from me.
In response, Charlie’s eyes said, I impale worms on my six-inch spike heels in my spare time.
The look didn’t turn me on. I wasn’t enjoying it. Not even a little bit. If my cock twitched the tiniest bit behind the placket of my pants, it was because of friction. Or a stray breeze.
Dolores didn’t seem to notice our wordless communication. “I am short on time today, Charlie. You don’t mind, do you? I’ll be at the gala, so I’ll get to see it when it’s finished. It’s already looking ten times better.”
