The Mayor's Secret Fortune

by Judy Duarte

  Moments later, they were sitting in the two seats closest to the aisle, about six or seven rows from the stage.

  Ellie leaned toward him, giving him an alluring whiff of her citrusy scent, and whispered, “I know this is a far cry from a Broadway show, but I had a good time last year. And I think you’ll enjoy it.”

  She was right. Each performance was unique and entertaining.

  A red-haired ventriloquist was a big hit, and so was a gymnast dressed in a clown costume who did flips and cartwheels across the stage. A couple of singers did a great job. Another tried hard but needed more practice. Several musicians played a variety of instruments, including the piano, a guitar, a trumpet and even a set of drums.

  A barefoot girl wearing a white karate gi and a black belt showed off her martial arts skill. And a kid dressed in full cowboy garb, including chaps, carried a lariat onstage and performed rope tricks. But it was the last act that Steven liked best. A teenage boy and girl sang a duet from the Broadway musical Annie Get Your Gun that was worthy of a standing ovation. Their interaction on stage reminded him of the verbal banter he and Ellie often had. Not that either of them was all that competitive with the other, but he could imagine them singing “Anything you can do, I can do better.”

  As the oldest of the eight Fortune siblings, Steven was used to being the boss. And Ellie took her role as mayor seriously. She was tough and often underestimated, something he’d come to admire. It seemed only natural that two leaders like them often felt compelled to try and top each other.

  The audience clapped and cheered at the end, then they all began to file out of the school auditorium. Steven figured he ought to offer to walk Ellie to her car, but he wasn’t ready to say goodbye and send her off.

  “I’ve got a real hankering for a hot fudge sundae,” Steven said.

  “A hankering, huh? I don’t know, Mr. Fortune. You’re starting to sound like a real Texan.”

  “Well, thank you, ma’am.” He nodded toward the sidewalk that led to the shopping district. “The ice cream shop is just a couple of blocks down the street. Are you up for a short walk?”

  Ellie brightened. “That actually sounds good to me. I have a real sweet tooth.”

  “You don’t say.” He laughed. “I guessed as much on Tuesday morning, when you zeroed in on that pink doughnut with candy sprinkles.”

  They moved through the throng of people and made their way across the street, which was unusually busy, thanks to the departing cars.

  “By the way,” Steven said, as they walked, “I’ve been thinking about all the people I met at Mariana’s Market, and you’re right. The longtime residents of Rambling Rose should be proud of the Fortune Brothers’ development projects, and I want them to feel as if their voices have been heard.” He glanced at Ellie, eager to see her reaction.

  “Really?” Her eyes widened as if she could hardly believe the sudden turnaround. “You’re going to alter your plans for the hotel?”

  “Not exactly. I’m still one hundred percent behind the project. And I’ve heard nothing but positive reactions from the people who live in Rambling Rose Estates, but I really need to expand our support base. The way I see it, all I have to do is convince Mariana’s crew that it’s a good idea. Then it’s only a matter of time before the planning commission gives us the green light.”

  Ellie grabbed him by the arm, pulled him to a halt, then circled in front of him and frowned. “Are you kidding me? You’re more interested in persuading the people at Mariana’s Market that you’re right. I can’t believe you’re not going to consider their point of view at all.”

  Damn, she was pretty when she was worked up like that. But he wasn’t going to bend to her—or to anyone—when it came to his personal project.

  Steven sighed. “Have you even considered that I could be right?”

  “No.” She crossed her arms. “Not even once.”

  They stood like that for a moment, clearly at an impasse. Just like the song that had wrapped up the talent show. He almost made a joke of it. Any stance you can take, I can take better.

  Something told him she wouldn’t find it funny, though. And since they’d just become friends again, it wouldn’t be wise to rock the boat.

  He cast what he hoped was a disarming smile. “Like we’ve said before, Ellie. Maybe we should just agree to disagree.”

  Her expression softened, then she uncrossed her arms and returned to her place at his side. As he moved forward, she fell into step and they continued to walk along the sidewalk.

  His arm brushed her shoulder a couple of times. If they’d been on an actual date, he would have reached for her hand.

  Hell, he was tempted to do it anyway.

  But he wouldn’t.

  “Will you meet me at Mariana’s Market again this weekend?” he asked. “I’d like to set up a table where I can sit down with the locals and help them understand what the Fortune family has in mind for the project.”

  “I’ll probably be there on Saturday. I like hanging out and talking to people. But I’m not going to sit at that table with you. I need to remain neutral, and I can’t have even the appearance of favoritism where you and Fortune Brothers Construction are concerned. After all, optics are everything.”

  At that, he chuckled. “May I remind you that you’re not the least bit neutral, and just about everyone in town knows how you really feel about the construction company and the hotel?”

  “You do have a point there.”

  As they reached the Sweet Freeze, he opened the door for her, and she stepped inside. They weren’t the only ones who’d had the idea of wrapping up their evening with an ice cream.

  Moments later, Steven had ordered a triple fudge sundae, and Ellie chose a strawberry cone.

  “And give her two scoops,” he told the clerk.

  They carried their desserts to a table at the rear of the shop and took a seat.

  “Okay,” Ellie said. “I’ll stop by your display at Mariana’s on Saturday.”

  He blinked in mock surprise. “All it took was a strawberry cone to convince you? I wish I would have known that sooner.”

  “I do love strawberries.”

  A grin tugged at his lips. “Does that mean you’re going to be open-minded for a change?”

  “What do you mean for a change? I’m always willing to look at both sides of a problem.” She took a taste of her cone and then closed her eyes. A rapturous expression crossed her face as she relished the taste, drawing his attention away from his own frozen chocolate concoction.

  As he watched her lick that cone, his senses reeled, triggering thoughts of sex. If she continued to eat like that, as if she were making soft, breathless mewling sounds, he would end up watching her until his sundae melted into a soupy mess.

  She drew the cone away from her mouth, then pointed the pink scoops at him. “Just for the record, you haven’t swayed me in the least. But I’m curious about how you’re going to reach out to the community—and how they’ll take it. So count me in.”

  Oddly enough, he hadn’t wanted to count her out. Even when they didn’t see eye to eye, he was drawn to her. Under the circumstances, he ought to run like hell.

  But he wasn’t about to go anywhere, especially while she licked that blasted strawberry cone.

  * * *

  Ellie hadn’t been to the Sweet Freeze in years, but she had a lot of nice memories here. Her mom used to teach school in Greenly, which was about twenty miles away, and she did a lot of tutoring after class and on Saturdays. So Ellie and her dad had spent a lot of time here—usually after a day at the playground, an afternoon matinee or following a softball game at the park.

  She’d always had a fondness for ice cream, especially strawberry, but she couldn’t remember it ever tasting this good. The sweet, cool treat really hit the spot. And it seemed to make her worries feel more like a coup
le of dust bunnies under the bed—still there but out of sight.

  Steven leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I’d like to do something like this with you again.”

  Her lips parted, and she nearly dropped her cone onto the table. What was he suggesting?

  “You want to meet at the Sweet Freeze?” she asked.

  “Yes. I guess so. Or whatever.”

  She still wasn’t sure what he meant. She had an idea, though. But she sure as heck wasn’t going to make a guess, one that was more likely to be wrong.

  So she skirted the question and delayed a response. “It’s been a nice evening, hasn’t it?”

  Surely he didn’t take the women he usually dated to high school talent shows and ice cream shops. She had to have connected the wrong dots. And, she admitted, that was actually a relief. A romantic liaison was out of the question, but the friend thing she could do.

  “I had fun tonight,” she added, against her better judgment.

  He leaned back in his seat and smiled. “Surprisingly, I did, too.”

  The way he looked at her prickled her nerves and sent her blood racing. Was her deduction wrong? Was he actually talking about them going out, publicly? Okay, she was back to square one. And she wasn’t sure what to say.

  I’m pregnant. Remember?

  And I’ll soon look like I swallowed a basketball.

  “So maybe we could go to a movie and have dinner?” he asked. “What do you think?”

  “I think we should enjoy our ice cream.” She scanned the immediate area, spotted a family placing their order up front, then lowered her voice. “It’s one thing for us to be seen at community events, but I don’t want people thinking we’re...getting too chummy.”

  “Why should anyone care?”

  She arched a brow. “Because I’m the mayor. And you and your family are at odds with the town.”

  “We’re only at odds with some of the townspeople, although we’re working on that.”

  “I hope so.” She again scanned the ice cream shop, which was now close to empty. She doubted anyone could hear their conversation, but she didn’t want to risk it and lowered her voice as a precaution. “There’s one other reason. And when word...” She let her voice trail off, but he knew what she meant.

  “You know,” he said, his voice soft, low and barely discernible, “the sooner you make the announcement, the better you’ll feel.”

  He was right, she supposed. The pressure would be off, but she wasn’t so sure she’d actually feel better. Not right away.

  “So what did your parents say when you told them?” he asked. When she hesitated and looked down, he said, “You didn’t tell them, did you?”

  “Not yet.”

  “You do realize the cat will be out of the bag soon?”

  “I know.”

  “Then you’re better off telling them before they hear it from someone else.”

  Her eyes opened wide, and her heart raced. “Are you going to tell them?”

  “No. Of course not. I gave you my word. What kind of guy do you think I am?”

  In truth, she really had no idea. But she knew what kind of man he wasn’t. One she should get involved with. Yet when he smiled at her like that, when he offered her friendship and support, not to mention his promise to keep her secret, her better judgment went up in smoke.

  “On Saturday evening, after we spend the day at Mariana’s Market, I’d like to take you out to dinner,” he said. “Nothing fancy. Some place low-key and quiet. What do you think?”

  That it was a crazy idea. Yet she was tempted beyond measure. She might be sorry for this later, but she gave a little shrug and said, “Sure. Why not?”

  But after they left the Sweet Freeze and he walked her back to her car, after she turned on the ignition and headed home, she hoped she hadn’t made another big mistake.

  Chapter Seven

  On Saturday morning, Steven and his brothers arrived at Mariana’s Market early to set up a table before the shoppers arrived. Several tripods displayed photos of their completed projects and sketches of those still in the works. They also had a stack of colorful, glossy pamphlets ready to pass out to those who were interested or just plain curious.

  An exhibit alone wasn’t enough to draw much attention, so Steven decided to tempt passersby to stop at the table by offering complimentary refreshments—glasses of sweet tea and lemonade, along with platters of cookies he’d purchased from Picard’s Patisserie, the new French bakery that recently opened at the Shoppes.

  After the successful grand opening nearly two weeks ago, one would think that shoppers would’ve flooded the specialty stores and eateries, something both Fortune Brothers Construction and the vendors had expected. Unfortunately, that hadn’t been the case.

  In an effort to boost sales and turn things around, Steven went out of his way to support and promote the various stores and businesses, which was why he’d placed a large order with Picard earlier that week.

  “Fifteen dozen cookies ought to be enough,” he’d told the short, balding baker. “I’d like a variety, but keep it simple. Nothing too fancy.”

  Steven hadn’t wanted the people who frequented Mariana’s Market to turn up their noses at something Picard had put his heart and soul into baking.

  “I know just the thing,” Picard said with a smile. “A lot of my specialties come from my grandmaman’s recipes. She made cookies for me when I was a boy. You wait and see. Everyone will love them.”

  Last night, after Steven had picked up the carefully packed boxes from the bakery and climbed behind the wheel of his SUV, he’d tried one. Picard had been right; they were delicious. But they might be more elegant and worldly than Mariana’s patrons were used to.

  Now, as it neared ten o’clock on Saturday morning, people had begun to stop by the Fortunes’ table to check out the multicolored macarons, French butter cookies and lemon madeleines, a costly purchase, even with the loyalty discount Picard had given them.

  An older man wearing worn denim overalls and a red baseball cap—a farmer, Steven suspected—squinted as he peered at the table. “What the hell are those?”

  “Cookies,” Callum said. “Give ’em a try.”

  “How much?” the guy asked.

  Steven lifted one of the trays so the man could get a better look at the variety of cookies. “No charge. They’re complimentary. Go ahead and have one. Or take a few.”

  The farmer grunted, picked up a pink macaron, studied it for a moment and popped it into his mouth.

  Steven reached for one of the pamphlets to give him, but the man slowly shook his head, lifted a weathered hand and waved him off. “Don’t need it, Mr. Fortune. I’ll take a free cookie, but I ain’t buyin’ what you’re trying to sell.” Then he turned and walked away.

  Steven was still holding the unwanted pamphlet when Ellie approached the table. She’d dressed casually today in a pink-and-white-striped blouse, black denim jeans and a pair of sneakers. She also wore a pretty pout, which, for once, wasn’t directed at Steven. Instead, she seemed a bit annoyed with the gangly black puppy she’d brought with her.

  Ellie gave a gentle tug on the red leash to encourage the little rascal to come her way, but the distracted pup was more interested in its surroundings and the people milling through the marketplace.

  Steven set down the pamphlet, left Callum at the table and strode toward Ellie, glad to see her.

  “This must be Tank,” he said.

  She blew out a sigh and tucked a long, glossy strand of dark hair behind her ear. “I’m puppy-sitting. Daria’s boss asked her to attend a business meeting with him in Houston, and Tank gets into too much trouble when he’s left home alone. So I thought I’d better bring him with me.”

  “Didn’t she have a business meeting with her boss last night?” Steven had never met Daria and didn’t know any
thing about the relationship she had with her employer. Not that it was any of his business. Didn’t Ellie find it odd that they would meet out of town—and on a weekend?

  “Actually,” Ellie said, “her boss called all of his employees together to announce that he’s selling the car wash. Daria is the bookkeeper, so he asked her to go to Houston with him to meet the buyers. He thought she’d be able to answer any financial questions they might have.”

  “That makes sense. Hopefully, the new owners will let her keep her job.”

  “Daria doesn’t think they will. They have several other car washes, so they probably already have a bookkeeper or accountant in place.”

  “That’s too bad. Tell her that once the hotel nears completion, there will be a lot of job opportunities. In fact, that’s what we’ve been telling people who stop by our table.”

  Ellie cut a glance at their display, where Callum was talking to two women in their mid-forties. The ladies appeared to be more interested in choosing a couple of cookies from the platters than they were in listening to anything Callum had to say about the hotel.

  They were going to need community support if they wanted to get approval from the planning commission, which was the reason they’d set up the table in the middle of the marketplace in the first place. But it wasn’t a good idea to open with the hotel. If Steven had been the one talking to them, he first would’ve tried to interest them in Paz, the spa that would be opening in a few weeks. Then he’d point out the restaurant they were building for his sisters, which would open in May. After he’d gotten their attention, he would have introduced the prospective hotel.

  Sharing that strategy with his brother could wait. Now that Ellie was here, Steven was eager to steer away from the company/business chatter.

  “How’s your effort to kumbaya with the locals going?” she asked. “Have you made any new friends yet?”

  Not really, but he didn’t tell her that. He didn’t want to hear her say I told you so. “It’s early yet. The day’s just getting started.”