by Nina Lindsey
“So I see.” Eleanor flung the dishtowel over her shoulder and flicked her gaze from Hunter back to her daughter. “I’m entirely in favor of healthy debate, but not when it disrupts my bakery.”
Aria looked at the floor, a shadow passing over her face. Hunter picked up his laptop and tucked it under his arm.
“It’s my fault, Mrs. Prescott. I apologize. I won’t bother you or Aria here again.”
“Everyone is welcome at Sugar Joy, Mr. Armstrong. We don’t discriminate.” Eleanor lifted her chin in a way that was so like her daughter’s that he was mildly startled. “I just ask that you keep your visits civil and respectful.”
She looked pointedly at Aria, encompassing her in that statement. Aria spun on her heel and stalked back to the kitchen, her back stiff.
Hunter muttered another apology and left the café, certain he’d just hurt his cause with that exchange. Arguing with the town sweetheart in public wasn’t going to win him any points with the locals.
He strode back to his car. Time to lock this down. The other Mariposa owners were all so close to capitulating that it wouldn’t take much to push them over the edge. When Aria was the only one left standing, she’d have to surrender.
No, he didn’t like the idea of forcing her hand, but she left him no choice. And he’d do well to remember another important credo of business.
Keep emotions out of it.
Especially his feelings about a woman who was making his heart beat again.
Chapter 9
Plan. What was her plan?
Hunter’s question rang in Aria’s ears for the rest of the day. Truth be told, aside from a vague notion of drumming up community support, she didn’t have anything remotely resembling a plan. All she had was indignation and an uplifting movie trailer in her head.
Based on the papers and reports she’d seen on Hunter’s desk at the Outside Inn—he had a dozen plans, all backed up with measurements and data. He’d probably been born with a plan in mind. He’d be eating solid food at six months, walking by nine months, enter an accelerated kindergarten program to prepare himself for Harvard…
With a snort of amusement, she closed up the café and drove to her mother’s house. She’d struggled with plans her entire life. And though she didn’t like the idea of taking a page out of Hunter’s book, she couldn’t just huff and puff about the negative impact of Oceanview Plaza. She also had to do something practical.
She steeled her spine as she entered her childhood home. Though she’d considered begging off their weekly dinner, she also had to stand her ground against her family. Her mother and sisters were in the kitchen, which smelled deliciously of chili and cornbread.
After greeting them, Aria settled on a stool at the kitchen counter as her mother scolded her for how she’d handled Hunter’s appearance at Sugar Joy that morning.
“Mom, he’s trying to push me out of a building I own.” Aria gratefully accepted a full glass of wine from Rory. “I’m sure as heck not going to be polite to him.”
Callie vigorously stirred the pot of chili on the stove. “Your confrontational approach is no way to get him to see your point of view.”
“Thanks, professor.” Aria eyed her oldest sister. Callie would have been a fantastic pioneer woman, all straight-backed, hard-working, butter-churning forcefulness. “You’ve made it clear you’re on Hunter Armstrong’s side.”
“It’s not a question of sides.” Impatience edged Callie’s tone. She set the wooden spoon down and grabbed a towel. “Given the state of Mariposa Street and your café, you should consider his offer. Getting angry with him won’t make him back down.”
“Just the opposite.” Rory arched an eyebrow. “A man like him will fight fire with an inferno.”
Aria clucked in irritation and took a healthy swallow of wine so she wouldn’t have to admit that her sisters were right. Like they’d been her entire life.
But what was her alternative with Hunter? Despite what had happened between them, she couldn’t befriend him. She certainly wouldn’t try and use the Rescue of Porkchop night in an attempt to sweet-talk him into agreeing with her—and they weren’t going to bring it up anyway. All she had was her hope of rallying the Mariposa owners to her cause.
What’s your plan for turning things around?
His question poked at her again.
“Has the town ever allocated funds to renovate Mariposa Street?” Rory picked up an oven mitt and took a batch of cornbread muffins out of the oven.
“A long time ago,” Eleanor said. “But after the fishing company shut down and the economy went downhill, the town council rightly diverted funds to schools and downtown initiatives. They had to close the Historical Preservation Society. Businesses started moving away from Mariposa, so there was less and less reason to preserve it.”
“Now it would cost a fortune to renovate.” Callie stepped aside so Rory could set the muffins on the counter. “To stay alive, a historic neighborhood needs financial and community support.”
“That’s what I need to do for Mariposa.” Aria lifted her head, a faint spark of hope lighting inside her. “I can drum up support with a petition to present to the town council and to the Mariposa Business Association. If the other owners know how many residents are against the construction, they’ll be a lot more likely to vote no on signing their contracts. I can start a fundraiser too.”
There. A plan.
She glanced at Callie, but her sister was at the sink, her back turned.
“I’ll donate to the fund,” Rory said. “And sign the petition.”
Aria shot her a grateful smile.
“I will too, of course.” Eleanor took the chili pot into the dining room. “Rory, bring the wine in, please.”
Rory grabbed the bottle of wine and followed her.
“You think I’m being foolish.” Aria looked at Callie, unable to keep the hurt note from her voice. “Like I always am.”
“I just don’t see why you think this will be any different from all your previous ventures.” Callie tossed the spoon into the sink, her mouth tightening. “A fundraiser is fine and good, but you’re going up against a company that puts billions of dollars into their projects.”
“I know.” Frustration gripped Aria. “But I have to start somewhere, don’t I? I have to do something. Or Hunter Armstrong is just going to railroad over the whole district.”
“I really don’t think he’s trying to railroad over anything.” Callie rubbed her temple and sighed. “Have you even thought about what he told you this morning? He made some excellent points. Your café would get a lot more traffic if you were in another location.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
“Then why are you fighting him so hard?” Callie threw her hands up in exasperation. “Why are you being so stubborn? Even if you win the vote, you’ll still have to struggle to keep your business going. It’s not as if winning means Mariposa will suddenly have a bounty of revenue and support.”
“That’s why I need to convince the town council to make renovation a priority.” Aria pushed herself off the stool and faced her sister. “And before you start telling me how amazing the Imperial deal is, I’ve crunched the numbers. If I relocate, I’d have to pay commercial rent, and the Imperial money won’t last long. Plus I’d need to find a place with a very specific configuration so I wouldn’t be violating any health codes. The chances of there being the rental space available in a high-traffic area right now are pretty slim.”
She spread her arms out. “If I couldn’t find something turnkey, I’d have to use the money to refurbish a space, possibly even involving construction, and I have no idea how long it would take for me to open again. Not to mention, I’d need to rent an apartment, which means another drain on my so-called profit. So don’t tell me that taking his offer will suddenly prevent me from struggling because it won’t.”
Callie opened her mouth, but Aria held up a hand to stop her sister’s words. Which she knew Rory and her mo
ther would echo.
“I know you’d help me out.” Her chest constricted. She’d lost track of the number of times her sister had bailed her out of one bad decision or another. “You’ve done it my whole life. I’ve never deserved it, and I’ve always been grateful. And you’ve made it abundantly clear that you think my café was a bad idea from the start, but I’m doing this on my own. If I fail and get forced out of my building, then it’s all on me. You can say I told you so, but you won’t lose anything.”
Callie stared at her. A shadow darkened her expression.
“Aria, don’t you…” She paused, her throat working with a swallow. “Don’t you know by now that when you lose, I lose?”
Tension stretched the air. Breaking her gaze, Callie turned and strode into the dining room.
Aria lowered her head. Tears stung her eyes.
Brilliant overachiever Callie always won. Scholarships, awards, tenure-track position at the college. Losing was Aria’s domain. And if she lost the Mariposa Street battle, she’d not only disappoint herself, she would again be her sister’s only failure.
Chapter 10
“I’m sorry, Aria.” Lois Howell took off her glasses and let them dangle on the gold chain around her neck. The florist shop was redolent with the fragrance of fresh-cut spring flowers, though only a few bouquets decorated the shelves. “I appreciate everything you’re doing, but Ray and I have been running this place for thirty years.”
“Exactly!” Aria reached across the counter and grasped the older woman’s hand.
Though she’d only been petitioning since yesterday afternoon, eight of the ten signatures she’d collected had all come from Meow and Then customers. Plus, herself and Grant from the Mousehole Tavern. She hadn’t been able to convince a single Mariposa owner to sign.
“Thirty years,” she told Lois. “The Bloom Room is your legacy. How can you stand the idea of selling it to a corporation that will bring out the wrecking ball the instant you sign on the dotted line?”
“Your dedication is admirable.” Lois smiled and patted Aria on the cheek. “However, times change. As much as I love this old building, it’s become an albatross we’re ready to turn over to someone else. And it would cost a fortune to renovate the whole street.”
“That’s why I’ve started the Mariposa Renovation Fund.” Aria extended a flyer on which she’d written the details of her fundraising plan. “All proceeds will go toward renovation and revitalization.”
“How much have you raised so far?”
“Two hundred and six dollars and forty-three cents.” Aria tightened her grip when Lois shook her head affectionately. “I’ve just gotten started. We can raise enough money to save Mariposa, but only if we stand together.”
“I love your passion, but our minds are made up.” Lois released Aria’s hand and picked up a pair of shears. “Ray and I don’t want to be forced to close The Bloom Room, so this is a great opportunity for us. Did I tell you we’re going on a Caribbean cruise? Our first one.”
Aria stepped away from the counter in defeat. “That sounds great.”
“Don’t be disappointed about this, dear.” Lois turned to head into the backroom. “It’s time to move forward. This is just part of the town’s evolution.”
To what? Aria thought bitterly. An overdeveloped city with high-rise buildings blocking the expansive views of the rocky Pacific coastline and the redwood forests?
She knew about moving forward—they’d all had to do that after Dad died—but that didn’t mean forgetting all the things you cherished about the past. Just the opposite. People, places, photos, songs, memories…everything was woven into your being. You took the past with you when you moved forward.
Clutching her clipboard to her chest, she continued down Mariposa. The bright morning sun shone on the cracked cobblestones and old windows. A Metalworks Hardware truck was the only vehicle parked on the street. Across from the café, Destiny stood in the doorway of Moonbeams with a cup of coffee.
“Morning, honey.” She lifted the cup. “Have time to join me?”
“No, but thanks. I noticed yesterday that Porkchop has been limping, and Max is coming over to check on him.” Aria approached her friend. “Sounds like Lois and Ray are planning to sell.”
“That’s what I heard too.” Destiny’s lipsticked mouth twisted as she glanced a few doors down, where Hunter had stopped to talk to Gary, the Corner Store owner.
Ignoring the awareness bolting through her, Aria narrowed her gaze on the two men as they paused to speak. Hunter had forgone his tailored suit today, opting instead for dark khakis and a navy button-down that fit beautifully over his broad shoulders. He held a tablet out for Gary to see and spread his hand toward the street, likely telling the other man how they were going to tear everything down.
The men shook hands. Aria’s chest tightened. Hunter crossed the street to the florist shop and disappeared inside.
“Morning, Joe!” Destiny waved toward the tall man wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and a tool belt who exited one of the closed shops halfway down the street.
He gave a short nod in her direction before disappearing behind the Metalworks Hardware truck.
Destiny let out a gusty sigh. “Am I coming on too strong?”
“Saying hello to someone is hardly coming on strong.” Aria smiled sympathetically. “He still hasn’t asked you out?”
“Honey, aside from saying hello, he barely glances my way.” Destiny took a sip of coffee, pursing her lips. “I don’t get it. You remember when he fixed my leaky roof last winter? I happened to have a pot of soup on the stove, so I invited him to stay for dinner. The man gobbled down two bowls full, but when I casually said, ‘We should do this again sometime,’ he looked as if I’d suggested we get naked and dance the tango.”
“Are you sure you didn’t actually suggest that?” Aria nudged her friend in the side.
Destiny tsked, even as a gleam appeared in her eyes. “Maybe I need to go to those lengths to get his attention.” She fiddled with one of her dangly earrings. “You think I’m too much for him? Maybe he’s scared of me.”
“Then he’s not the man for you.”
“I wish he’d give me the chance to figure that out for myself.” Destiny nodded toward an approaching van, the sides emblazoned with All Critters Pet Clinic and Hospital. “Looks like hot doc is here. Hey, have you ever considered going out with him? You’ve known each other long enough.”
“That’s kind of the problem.” Aria watched as the driver parked the van a few stores down from Meow and Then. “We went on a couple of dates years ago, but it ended up being just two old friends hanging out. Besides, it’s tough to feel romantic about a man who ate paste in kindergarten and who knows that you once considered getting a Justin Bieber tattoo.”
“Yeah, don’t lead with that.” Destiny grinned and turned back to her shop. “I’ll do an Oracle card reading on him and figure out who would be a good match. A man like that is just oozing One True Love energy.”
Amused, Aria headed across the street, where Max Weatherford was taking his bag out of the passenger seat. With thick blond hair and striking green eyes, the tall, handsome veterinarian had operated Bliss Cove’s only animal clinic for the past ten years.
“Hey, Aria.” He closed the door and extended his arm to give her a quick squeeze. “Sorry I couldn’t get over here yesterday. How’s your patient?”
“He’s been limping since yesterday, but he’s been eating well…of course…and doesn’t seem to be in much pain.” Aria unlocked the café door. “I was able to check his paw and couldn’t see a visible injury, but I’m worried about the limp. I didn’t notice it when I brought him back home after his little escapade, so I can’t tell if it happened that night or since.”
“Hmm. Might have gotten more inflamed over the past few days.”
After tossing his hoodie onto the coat rack, Max followed her into the lounge. Several cats swarmed toward him as if he were a magnet. He crouched, extending
his hand and murmuring to them in a low voice.
Aria coaxed Porkchop out from underneath a chair and brought him over to Max. He sat on the sofa to check the cat’s paw and sore leg.
“It’s a little swollen, but not too bad.” He pressed the cat’s joint, and Porkchop tensed and squirmed. “I’ll take him in for an X-ray. I doubt he’ll need a splint, just some rest. You said in your text that he escaped?”
“Monday night.” Aria flushed and scratched Porkchop’s ears. “I feel terrible. I was taking out the trash, and I didn’t close the door all the way. He just darted right out. Thankfully he was the only one who did.”
“Where did he go?” Max stood, holding the hefty cat in his arms.
“All the way to Pelican Beach.” Aria brought Porkchop’s crate from the storage room. “It was raining, and a clap of thunder scared him. He got his leg stuck in a pile of seaweed. That was the only way we were able to catch him.”
“Who’s we?”
Aria’s heart stuttered. “Uh, a guy who ended up helping me.”
Max touched the cat’s leg again. “Is this the leg that got stuck?”
“I think so, but I’m not entirely sure. It was dark and pouring rain, so I couldn’t see very well. Hold on, let me get some tuna or Porkchop will fight you.”
After putting the tuna into the crate, Max slipped the more docile cat in and closed the door. “How’s Fang?”
“The same.” Aria bent to look at the old cat who was huddled under a chair. A scar crossed his closed left eyelid, which concealed his empty eye socket.
Of all the cats she’d fostered, Fang was the one who made her heart ache the most. Two months after she’d taken him in, he was still wary and defensive, prone to cowering when people got too close. He never let anyone pick him up and spent most of his time crouched in hideaways or under the sofa.
“He hasn’t had issues with the other cats.” She clicked her fingers at Fang, but the cat only glared at her. “But he’s been scared of the few customers I’ve had. I’m not sure I can keep him much longer, especially if he starts getting hostile.”