Her blue eyes narrowed. “Inflation,” she quipped. “And it’s for the children.”
Jeez. I respected the negotiation instincts. This kid had more backbone than half the executives I dealt with daily.
“Four,” I countered.
She tossed her head back and laughed. “Nice try, lady. I see your fancy shoes. You can swing it. Then go visit my brother at the lemonade table and make sure to fill up.”
“Goldie,” a blond woman said as she strode toward us. “Hello.” She extended a hand. She was beautiful and had the kind of warm smile that felt like a ray of sunshine. “I’m Alice Gagnon. I’m the principal. Are you new in town?”
With a nod, I took her hand. Gagnon. Of course she had to be related to them. My primary competition.
Introductions were made, and overpriced popcorn was purchased. Then we made our way into the gym, which had basketball hoops folded up into the ceiling and fraying pennants on the walls.
The place was packed with dozens of people milling around.
Karl elbowed me. “Ooh. Look, your Beast is here too.”
I looked across the gymnasium to see Gus standing against the folded-up bleachers, wearing a plaid shirt and his usual scowl. I hadn’t pegged him for the town meeting type, but I supposed there wasn’t much else to do here. I looked away before he caught me staring, and beside me, Karl chuckled.
He squeezed my arm. “No flirting, boss. We’ve got a job to do.”
“I’m not flirting.”
“That was your special super mega death laser glare you shot over at him, so definitely flirting.”
I rolled my eyes and pretended to be fascinated by the assembling crowd.
A projection screen stood against the far wall, an agenda pulled up on it. Huh. I wasn’t sure what most of the items listed meant, but I scanned them all until I saw my name. Wonderful. I had prepared some remarks but hadn’t really expected to have to face the entire town.
Once we’d all found seats, the mayor opened the meeting, and a few items of business were discussed. Murmurs went up around the room when a strikingly tall man walked to the podium. His dark brown hair was shaggy and obscured his eyes, and he carried himself like a teenager, slumped and loping, even though he looked to be pushing thirty.
As he tossed his head to get the hair out of his eyes and cleared his throat, I was hit with a wave of familiarity. Something about those broad shoulders, the shoulders of a lumberjack, made me pause.
That thought had me scanning the room until I found where a certain other lumberjack was standing, his arms crossed.
“I’m Cole Hebert.” The man placed a hand on either side of the podium and leaned down into the microphone.
Holy Shit. This was Gus’s youngest brother.
Wow. I hadn’t thought of him in years. The kid I remembered was a child hockey phenom who traveled back and forth to Canada to play.
And now he was a grown man. Great. As if I needed another reminder of just how old I was.
“As you may know, I’m chair of the RiverFest committee. It’s been fourteen years since our last festival, but we have decided to bring it back this year.”
He clicked through slides, each one loaded with information about committees, plans, and other logistics.
Calmly and slowly, he spoke, even as he wiped his palms against his jeans. If he was nervous, he handled it well. He was massive, and yet there was a boyishness about him that was endearing.
I’d read the arrest report and knew all about the vandalism he’d been caught up in earlier this year, but I could not square the earnest kid in front of me talking about economic development with the petty criminal described in the report.
His presentation was brief, but it was compelling. This town needed revenue and to reestablish itself as a tourist destination. A gateway to the true wilderness. His words and body language conveyed just how passionate he was about it.
“So,” he said, gesturing to a table on one side of the podium. “We have sign-up sheets up here, and we’re in need of people to fill all kinds of volunteer roles. Vendor registration opens next week. We will be prioritizing local vendors but opening up spots to folks from the broader region.”
He cleared his throat and straightened. For the span of a few breaths, he surveyed the room.
Finally, he leaned down once more and spoke into the microphone. “Any questions?”
Immediately dozens of hands went up. I let out a sigh of relief. I may not have to speak after all. We’d been here for forty minutes already, and we hadn’t even made it halfway through the agenda.
While Cole fielded questions like a pro, my attention wandered across the gymnasium to Gus. The bastard couldn’t stay out of my eyeline. He was wearing his usual jeans, boots, and a scowl.
Why he was at a town meeting was beyond me. From what I could tell, he’d turned into the reclusive type, and his social skills left much to be desired.
If I thought I was off the hook, I was quickly proven wrong. The townspeople clearly didn’t have any concerns about going far beyond the allotted meeting time.
So an hour later, I was still sitting in a metal folding chair, my ass numb, when Mayor Lambert got up.
“And now I’d like to invite Ms. Chloe LeBlanc of Strategic Timber to introduce herself.”
With a deep breath in, I stood and smoothed my skirt. As I walked slowly up to the podium, every eye in the room was locked in on me.
Despite being a born-and-bred Mainer, I was an outsider here. I’d been gone so long that I was “from away,” in local parlance. And given the history of Hebert Timber, suspicion was deserved. But I hadn’t considered that dozens of townsfolk would be here tonight, every one of them eerily silent as my heels clicked on the lacquered floor.
As I stepped behind the podium, I smiled weakly and adjusted the microphone. “Good evening,” I said, forcing my chin up and my shoulders back. “I’m Chloe LeBlanc.”
I scanned the crowd and was met with one angry face after another. Oh shit, this was harder than I thought it’d be. I gave a few brief remarks about my company, what we were seeking to do, and how I appreciated the value of the timber industry for this region and this community.
