The Mayor's Secret Fortune

by Judy Duarte

  Ellie twisted the loop end of the leash, bit down on her bottom lip then asked, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  “Sure.”

  “Privately?” She nodded to the right, away from any people walking by.

  Steven took the first step, but Ellie’s tug of the leash didn’t faze Tank, so she stooped, picked up the noncompliant puppy and walked a few feet until they were out of earshot.

  “What’s going on?” Steven asked.

  “Something’s come up, and I can’t go out to dinner with you tonight.”

  He might have let it go at that and asked if they could try again later in the week, but her eye twitched and tension stretched across her brow. He zeroed in on her big brown eyes and tried to read the subtext behind her words, but he wasn’t having any luck. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Nothing. Not really. I...” She tore her gaze away from his and bent to place Tank back on the ground. After giving the pup a scratch behind the ear, she returned to an upright position and shrugged. “I already told you. I’m puppy-sitting, remember?”

  Yes, but there had to be more to it than that. He suspected that she was having second thoughts about having dinner with him, about being seen with him in a social setting. He couldn’t be sure, though. “There’s a place on the corner of Main and Jefferson that serves burgers and salads. They have a few tables set up curbside and a sign out front that says they’re pet friendly. So Tank can come along, too. That is, if he’s the only reason you’re dragging your feet.”

  She didn’t answer right away, and while he waited, studying the silky strands of her hair, the thick dark lashes that framed her big brown eyes, the tilt of her chin, sexual awareness slammed into him and sent his blood pounding.

  Did she feel it, too? Were the same arousing thoughts zapping through her brain?

  She sucked in a deep breath and blew it out. “Okay, Steven. Here’s the deal. Going out to dinner with you would be cool. And fun. But it would feel like a date, and there are a hundred reasons why that isn’t a good idea.”

  He’d already considered each one. Yet none of them seemed to matter right now, even if they should.

  “What’s holding you back?” he asked.

  She placed her free hand on her stomach, caressed the slight bulge for a moment, then let her fingers trail away.

  The baby. Okay. She had a point. And it should give him pause, but it didn’t. For some reason, he liked her. And he wanted to spend more time with her.

  Before he could respond, a loud, angry voice sounded behind them, coming from the Fortune Brothers’ table.

  A big man in his late thirties shook his finger at Callum. “You good-for-nothing piece of crap. You Fortunes think you can pass out treats and sweet-talk the good folks of Rambling Rose into believing that you’re on our side. But that’s a crock. You only have your own interests and profits at heart.”

  Steven and his brothers could hold their own in a fight, even with a hulk who looked as if he’d once been a linebacker for the Dallas Cowboys. But he’d better stand beside Callum anyway, ready to offer backup, whether it was calm words or a physical stance.

  Ellie stopped him before he could take a step and handed him the end of the leash. “Take this.” Then she marched toward the hothead.

  She reached him just as he pointed to the platters and said, “You can take those cookies and shove them up—”

  “Jackson!” Ellie called out in a voice nearly as strong and loud as the one she’d just quieted.

  The bulky, broad-shouldered giant turned to the mayor and folded his arms across his chest, resting them on what appeared to be the start of a beer belly.

  “You’re making a scene,” she said.

  “Maybe I am, but somebody’s got to stand up to the Fortunes and tell them how it is. You’ve seen how they’ve moved into town and started buying up property and turning things upside down. Hell, they’re acting as if they own the whole damn place.”

  “They’ve done some good things, too,” Ellie said.

  Jackson chuffed. “I can see they’ve already got to you and worn you down.”

  “Slow down,” Ellie said. “Just the other day, I talked to your sister. Her son, your nephew, was treated for the intestinal flu and severe dehydration at the Rambling Rose Pediatric Center.”

  Jackson let out a half-assed snort. “The doctors and nurses helped Joey. Not the Fortunes. They just prettied up the building.”

  “Come with me,” Ellie told the red-faced man. “I want to talk to you. Away from the crowd.”

  Jackson held his ground for a moment. Then he turned and reluctantly followed the much smaller mayor out of the hearing range of anyone near the table. But still close enough for Steven to be privy to their conversation.

  “No one loves this town more than I do,” she told Jackson. “But as your mayor, I need to look out for all the townspeople. And that means those who live in Rambling Rose Estates, as well as the store owners at the Shoppes and Fortune Brothers Construction.”

  “Yeah, Ellie. I know. But you can’t let ’em ruin our town.”

  “The Fortunes have done more than just ‘pretty up’ Rambling Rose. They’ve put our friends and neighbors to work, either directly or indirectly.”

  The man’s brow furrowed, and he glanced down at his feet.

  “Jackson, you trusted me with your vote. Now you need to trust me to lead Rambling Rose, to make compromises when necessary and to stand firm when bottom lines matter.”

  When Ellie looked up and realized Steven had been listening, she took Jackson aside, placed her hand on his shoulder and spoke privately with him. The chat didn’t last long. Maybe only a minute or two. Then Jackson nodded and walked away, his big, broad shoulders slumped.

  Ellie remained where she stood and watched his retreat. Then she returned to Steven’s side and reached for Tank’s leash.

  He handed it to her. “That was unbelievable.”

  Her brow twitched. “What was? Jackson’s tirade? He’s not the only one in town with strong feelings about your projects and the changes that are being made in the community.”

  “Actually,” Steven said, “I was talking about you. I’m amazed at the way you handled that guy. Your persuasive techniques are your superpower. I saw you do it at the grand opening of the Shoppes, when you stopped the protest. And now this. So thank you. Again.”

  “You’re welcome. But that wasn’t anything special. It was just me. And what I do.”

  No, it was more than that. A lot more. And he suspected she knew it, too. “You went to bat for us, and I want to thank you by taking you to dinner.”

  “You don’t owe me anything. Jackson has a loud mouth, and he gets worked up easily when he thinks there’s been an injustice done. He doesn’t always think before getting angry, but he has a big heart, especially when it comes to his family. So I took him aside and asked what his mother would think about him raising a ruckus in public. As I suspected, he backed right down.”

  “You really know your neighbors.”

  “Yes, I do. Anyway, it wasn’t a big deal.”

  “I think it was,” Steven said. “I don’t like public altercations. You and I may not agree on many things, but we both want peace in our community. And a blowup at Mariana’s Market, especially today, would make the company look bad. Believe it or not, the Fortunes are well thought of in Fort Lauderdale. I might not be a Fortune by blood, but I’m proud to bear the name. And I don’t want my family and the construction company to be frowned upon in Rambling Rose.”

  She arched a single brow, clearly skeptical of his claim.

  “All right,” he said. “I’ll admit that some of the townspeople don’t like us—or trust us. But we’re working on that.”

  She offered him a smile, then glanced down at the ground, where Tank was resting his head on his paw. Su
rprisingly, he looked to be taking a nap.

  “So how about dinner tonight?” Steven asked again. “I’ll pick you up. Or you can meet me there.”

  “I don’t know...” she said.

  “Over the last few weeks, we’ve become friends. Most of the community is beginning to see that, too. So don’t worry about being seen with me in a social setting. Friends do things together all the time, and that includes sharing a meal.”

  She glanced down at the puppy sleeping at her feet, then looked up and grinned. “I’ll ask one of the neighbor kids to look after Tank. So it doesn’t matter where we eat. I’m up for burgers, Italian or whatever.”

  “Since you’re giving me a choice, then let’s go to Osteria Oliva.”

  Ellie furrowed her brow. “I’ve never heard of that. Where is it?”

  “It’s the new Italian restaurant that opened at the Shoppes. And before you object and say it’s too trendy or ritzy, I have a good reason for wanting to eat there. Carla Vicente, the new owner, lost her father a few months ago. The restaurant had been his dream, and now she’s determined to make a go of it as a tribute to him. But it’s been a struggle.”

  “Why?”

  “Carla doesn’t have many customers yet. Hopefully, once the foot traffic at the Shoppes picks up and word spreads, she’ll do all right.”

  “So you’re trying to help.”

  Steven shrugged. “I guess you could say that helping is my superpower.”

  “Apparently, there’s a lot I don’t know about you.” She studied him for a moment, her eyes twinkling with an unspoken thought. He’d give anything to know what she was thinking. Or feeling.

  “Just for the record,” she added, “you can be pretty persuasive, too.”

  “I have four younger sisters, so that’s a skill I had to hone early. But I have to admit, you’re not easy to sway.”

  “I know.” She offered him a smile. “But in this case, you did. I’d like to support Carla, too. So tell me what time, and I’ll meet you there.”

  “How about six? I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to have the Rambling Rose mayor eat at her restaurant.”

  “Sounds good.” Ellie stooped to pick up the sleepy puppy. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  As she turned to walk away, her arms full with a squirming puppy, Steven couldn’t help but shake his head and grin. He and Ellie might be at odds most of the time, but she actually had become his friend, and he was really looking forward to spending the evening with her.

  And if he played his cards right, maybe they’d become more than friends.

  * * *

  After parking at the Shoppes, Ellie made her way into the lobby, a smile on her lips and a zing in her steps. She continued past the specialty shops on the first floor to the far end, where Osteria Oliva was located. She hated to admit it, but she was looking forward to having dinner with Steven.

  He’d been right. The two of them had, surprisingly, become friends. And good ones, it seemed.

  As she neared the restaurant, footsteps sounded behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to see Steven approach, a dazzling grin on his face. She stopped to wait for him to catch up.

  From the black Stetson on his head to the boots on his feet, her newfound friend was looking more like a cowboy every day. And more handsome than he had a right to be.

  He placed a hand on her shoulder, and the warmth of his gentle touch sent a coil of heat spiraling to her core, stirring up feelings that were a far cry from platonic.

  “Thanks for waiting up,” he said, as they continued on together. “I think you’ll like this place, especially since it’s special and trendy, but not fancy.”

  As they stepped through the arched entry, Ellie scanned the sunflower-yellow walls adorned with colorful European-style artwork, each with a dark frame that matched the wooden tables and chairs. A hand painted mural on the side wall depicted a vineyard and a quaint cottage. To the right of the cash registers, a small grocery section displayed imported products, such as olive oils, dry pasta, sauces, herbs and Italian wines.

  There was a lot to like about Osteria Oliva, but Steven hadn’t stretched the truth when he’d mentioned the lack of patrons. For a Saturday night, the new eatery was practically dead.

  A matronly woman, her silver-threaded dark hair pulled into a neat and tidy bun, greeted them at the door. “It’s nice to see you again, Steven.”

  “This time I brought a friend.” He turned to Ellie, his hand still lingering on her back, his touch sending tingles down her spine. “This is Ellie Hernandez, the mayor of Rambling Rose.”

  Carla extended her arm and gave Ellie’s hand a warm, two-handed shake. “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for coming.”

  “Steven raves about the food, so I’m glad to be here.”

  Carla swept her arm out toward the nearly empty room, where one older couple sat near the mural. “Please, sit anywhere you like.”

  Steven ushered Ellie to the back of the room, where they took their seats at a table for two.

  A waiter dressed in black slacks and a crisply pressed white button-down shirt stood off to the side. He gave them a moment to settle in before approaching their table with two menus.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” he asked.

  “I’ll have a glass of your Chianti Classico Reserva,” Steven said.

  Ellie smiled at the waiter. “Just water for me.”

  He nodded. When he left them to look over the menus, Ellie checked out the offerings—salads, sandwiches and European-style pizza. She suspected the locals who’d lived in town all their lives would find the food appealing. The prices weren’t especially steep, either. But those people weren’t shopping at the high-end stores, which meant they weren’t going to stumble upon Osteria Oliva.

  Moments later, when the waiter returned with a basket of fresh focaccia sprinkled with rosemary, they placed their orders—a sausage calzone for Steven and the vegetarian antipasto salad for Ellie.

  “So what’s new at Fortune Brothers Construction?” Ellie asked. “Any recent land grabs? Any new renovation projects in the works?”

  “Not at the moment.” He picked up the bread basket, offered it to her and waited until she chose a piece. “We’re going to have to plan a retirement party, though. I knew it was coming. Our office manager made the official announcement this morning. I’m happy for him, but he’s been an incredible asset, especially during our move to Texas. It’ll be hard to replace him.”

  Ellie opened her mouth to recommend Daria for the position, but she didn’t like the idea of her best friend going to work for the enemy—even though Steven no longer felt like one. Then again, Daria had student loans to pay back and would be out of a job once the car wash sold.

  “Let me know when you start looking to replace the office manager. Or if you have to shuffle people around and another position opens up. My friend Daria doesn’t have a ton of experience, but she has a college degree. She’s also a hard worker and loyal. I’m sure she’d like to apply.”

  “Tell her to give me a call next week,” Steven said.

  Once their dinner was served, they continued to talk. And this time, for a change, without their usual bickering.

  Steven told her about growing up in Fort Lauderdale, especially when he was a teenager. He might have done well academically, played sports and had a weekend construction job, but he’d still managed to have fun—and to get into mischief.

  “How’d you manage to stay out of trouble?” she asked.

  “It wasn’t so hard in high school, but I got in plenty of trouble when I was in eighth grade.” He tossed her a playful grin. “One day, we had a substitute teacher in math, and the guy didn’t appreciate my sense of humor. So he sent me to the principal’s office. More often than not, during P.E., the coach used to make me run extra laps for being a wise-ass. But the last time I
got into trouble, my dad grounded me, and that was a real game changer for me.”

  “What did you do?”

  “One of my buddies invited me to his family’s country club to play golf. I was driving the cart a little too fast and ran it into a tree. My dad wasn’t happy about it. He paid for the repair bill, but I had to pay him back—with interest.” Steven rested his elbows on the table and leaned toward her, his blue eyes glimmering with mirth. “Now it’s your turn. I admitted to a lot of stuff, and you just sat there smiling, taking it all in as if you’d never met such an entertaining hellion. Didn’t you ever get into trouble?”

  Ellie glanced around the empty restaurant, pretending to watch for eavesdroppers, then leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Don’t tell anyone, but I got a B-plus one semester in chemistry, which screwed up my chance to be the valedictorian.”

  Steven feigned surprise, placed a hand on his chest and gasped. “Seriously? That bad, huh?”

  They both laughed, but it was true. That’s about the worst thing she’d done while in school. And if truth be told, she’d cried when she’d realized that B-plus had lowered her GPA enough to allow Jose Rivera to snag the coveted award.

  Funny how it seemed a little insignificant now. And she found it even funnier that she’d really enjoyed her evening with Steven tonight.

  After he paid the bill and left a tip, they headed toward the lobby doors that would take them to the parking lot.

  “Thank you for dinner,” Ellie said. “Now I owe you one.”

  “Sounds good to me. Just tell me where and when. Or, better yet, give me your address, and I’ll pick you up at your house.”

  She didn’t want anyone to think they were dating, and while they really weren’t, they sure seemed to be tiptoeing around it. So she came up with a better option—if he was interested. “There’s an event in San Antonio I need to attend on Tuesday afternoon. If you can get the time off and don’t mind hanging out with me for a boring hour or two, we could have an early dinner in the city.”

  “Sure. I don’t have a lot going on Tuesday. What time do you want to leave?”