She slammed the cash drawer closed, and it felt as if her heart had jumped off a cliff. Although she and Gregory had grown up in the same town, she didn’t even know the man, and now he wanted her at his side?
“You must be joking.”
Her words came out clipped, but it felt as though they were spoken through mud. Gregory placed both palms on the counter. “I assure you, I’m not.”
Vanessa’s throat tightened almost painfully, and she could have drowned in the confident intensity of his hazel eyes.
“And I can assure you that I’m not interested.”
Gregory took a step back. “Really? I’m surprised. Your father told me that flowers are not your only talent. You also have a knack for public relations, and you’ve been especially successful helping politicians in a crisis, I hear.”
Vanessa’s stomach burned with resentment. Her father had no business talking to the mayor about her, but she’d deal with him later.
In Gregory’s voice, she heard no trace of disdain, and that was good. There were only two people who knew the sordid details of her stint in political public relations, and that was the way it would remain. She was a pro at hiding the secrets of powerful and successful men, and even better at hiding her own.
Vanessa tilted her head. “Oh, so you’re admitting your reelection campaign is in trouble?”
“Not trouble,” he insisted, lifting one finger. “Just a bit of a rough spot.”
She broached a wry smile. “I’d say you’re at the top of a raging waterfall about to crash to the rocks below.”
Gregory leaned in closer. “I like to live dangerously,” he murmured in a low voice.
At his words, her pulse raced anew, chasing something elusive and sensual.
She was relieved when he stepped away from the counter and peered into one of the refrigerated cases.
“How’s business been lately?”
It sucks, she thought as she took a sip from her water bottle. But she wasn’t going to tell him that. Had he seen the ledger? She wished she’d waited until he was gone to count the cash drawer.
“Steady. I can’t complain.”
That much was true. Between her walk-in customers, internet orders and those from the hospital, Blooms in Paradise was just breaking even. She hadn’t had a paycheck in months, though, so she was teaching a floral design class at a community college the next town over just to make ends meet. Still, the bills were piling up with no end in sight, and her emergency savings account was almost tapped out.
“Steady,” he repeated to the glass. “That’s good, but growth is even better.”
“At least it’s reliable,” she retorted, and thought she saw his shoulders twitch back.
She hadn’t meant her words to be a slam against him, but when she quickly thought about it, maybe she did. Why couldn’t he just let things in Bay Point stay the same? Sure, things were rough now, but the economy was on the upswing. People would start shopping and eating downtown again. Tourists would rediscover Bay Point’s charm.
Wouldn’t they?
Vanessa squeezed her bottle of water until the plastic crunched loudly. Gregory faced her and opened his mouth, but no words came out.
She felt her blood pressure rise and readied herself for an argument, but he simply turned and walked over to the window.
From where she stood, she knew he was looking at Lucy’s Bar and Grille. Located directly across the street from her shop, it was the only remaining restaurant on downtown Ocean Avenue. All the others had either closed or moved somewhere else.
Gregory chuckled, the sound strangely poignant. “When I was little, my father and I had dinner at Lucy’s often, especially when my mom was in Washington trying to drum up support for her latest cause.”
“She was a lobbyist, correct?”
“She still is.” He nodded, his back ramrod straight. “Anyway, most nights it was so crowded the only reason we got a seat was because we always had a reserved table.”
He turned to Vanessa, and his expression was difficult for her to read.
“I guess it pays to be one of the richest families in town,” she mused.
His eyes found hers, and she was surprised at the whisper of guilt that crossed his face.
“Those were the good old days,” he said, as if he didn’t hear her.
Vanessa skirted around the counter, hoping to put an end to his walk down memory lane. Sometimes the past wasn’t meant to be revisited—it was meant to be forgotten.
“What are you talking about? The Langstons are still one of the wealthiest families in Bay Point. Nothing has changed for you.”
She faced him, folding her arms across her chest. Her body was still heated, but not from desire, from anger.
“If you’re so concerned with memories, what about the Bay Point Carousel?” she accused. “Don’t you know what it means to the community?”
He didn’t answer, but a scowl crossed his face, and she wondered why.
“The carousel is part of our town’s history,” she continued. “You can’t tear it down!”
He turned and leaned against the counter. “I have to do what I think is best for Bay Point.”
Her heart sank, but she remained undeterred. “Are you looking for a vote of approval for your plan? Because you don’t have mine, and you never will.”
He stared at her a moment, and she thought she saw a flash of hurt in his eyes.
“You don’t have to agree with the redevelopment. I just need you to help me convince everyone else in Bay Point. Despite what you think, I am trying to make things better.”
His earnestness almost made Vanessa believe him. But she knew from past experience that guys like him, with their good looks and charm, could suck the heart and independence from a woman. He’d do the very same thing to Bay Point.
“By destroying the legacy of the place you and I grew up in?” she railed. “Somehow I missed that part of your campaign speech, and so did the rest of the town.”
His eyes widened slightly, and he picked up his hat from the counter. She thought he was going to put it on and leave, but then he put it down again.
“Like the carousel, many of the homes are dilapidated and in need of repair. They’re an eyesore on the community.”
The determination in his voice, measured and even, tried to convince her of the practicality of his statement. It also appeared to be a veiled warning that there was no way she could change his mind.
“Those ‘eyesores’ have been in the respective owners’ families and in this community for generations,” Vanessa countered.
She crossed her arms, determined to be just as practical and just as stubborn. “Now you’re going to raze them, and you expect me to help you? Get real, Mayor.”
Gregory moved toward her. “You’ve got it all wrong.”
He touched her shoulder with one fingertip. She jumped back in surprise, but it was too late. The brief contact had already leached a single pulse of fire into her bare skin.
“Whatever you have to say, I don’t want to hear it.”
“You’ll want to hear this.”
She found it hard to avoid his eyes, so gentle yet commanding attention.