Winning Her Love

Stodwell edged his body forward. “It’s the right time for me, and for the city.”

Gregory nodded. The man was right. If the city owned the buildings outright, it would make the redevelopment process a whole lot easier.

Stodwell leaned back in his chair. “Besides, some of my tenants haven’t paid rent on time, or at all, in months. Because of that, I can’t make repairs or upgrade the buildings or the apartments upstairs.”

“Why didn’t you ever sue the tenants for the money?”

“Are you kidding?” Stodwell widened his eyes in mock horror. “I gotta live here, too, Mayor. I could have shook ’em down for the money, but that’s not my style.”

Gregory barely held back a smirk. “So now you want us to do it, is that right?”

Stodwell opened both palms, his grin like a swath of grease on his tanned face. “I have to assume if they’re not paying me, they’re not paying the city, either. Am I right?”

Gregory frowned and didn’t respond. As in most cities, businesses had to pay a yearly tax to operate in Bay Point, although some exemptions did apply.

Six months ago, he’d had an independent audit conducted of Bay Point’s finances. The third-party firm had discovered that there was nearly a quarter of a million dollars in unpaid business taxes that were not in the city’s coffers, which was one reason why the city was in a financial mess.

“Once the city owns all the properties, you can call a lien on each one of them.” Stodwell clapped his hands. “Problem solved.”

Gregory immediately thought of Vanessa. “I can’t do that. There has to be a better solution.”

Stodwell shrugged. “Threaten eviction, and people suddenly get very creative about paying up.”

Gregory held back a gasp. Throw his fellow residents out on the streets? He could never live with himself. He’d grown up with most of the store owners.

It would be difficult enough collecting back taxes from them. In light of the economy and the lack of tourists, Stodwell’s business tenants were having a hard time staying profitable. How would they come up with the extra money for back taxes and rent increases? He could never evict them.

“Neither I nor the city is willing to go that far,” he said firmly. “Besides, it’s—”

“Election time. I know.”

Stodwell slurped down the rest of his coffee and set it on the desk.

“You need me, Gregory. And I need...a very nice retirement. I am willing to sell the properties to the city. If you don’t want to deal with them, sell them to the developer.”

“I’m not even sure if he’d be willing to buy them,” Gregory said.

“That’ll be your problem, not mine.” Stodwell twisted a wide gold ring on his finger. “I left a report with your assistant of how much is owed to me by various tenants. Obviously, those monies will be included in the selling price, which the city can recoup however, and whenever, it wishes.”

Gregory thought for a moment. “I need time to review everything and discuss it with city council.”

“You have sixty days.”

Gregory quickly glanced down at his desk calendar.

Stodwell grinned. “Don’t worry. The deadline falls after the election. I’m doing you a favor, Mayor. I could sell outright to the developer.” He lifted his hands and shrugged. “Though I’d make far less money on the deal because—”

“They would be less likely to buy at your asking price because of all the repairs that need to be done,” Gregory concluded.

“Exactly. When I realized that you intended to keep most of the downtown buildings intact, that’s when I made the decision to sell and get out now, while I could still make a little bit of profit, and the city can still make good use of them.”

Gregory nodded, even though Stodwell’s comment irked him. He knew the man didn’t care a bit about Bay Point. He was just out to make a fast buck, and it was up to Gregory to make sure that he wasn’t going to do it at Bay Point’s expense.

“We’ll have to see if we can work your buildings into the development and construction schedule,” Gregory reasoned.

“Are you still going to tear the carousel down first?”

“Yes, plus, a few other buildings will be razed to make way for new condos and town houses, as part of the multiuse lifestyle center that will be built. The rest will remain, and the exteriors will be renovated. If the city buys your properties, we can perhaps schedule the renovations in phase two.”

Stodwell nodded. “This redevelopment idea of yours. It’s a good plan, Mayor. One that will far outlive you and me combined. I urge you and city council to consider my offer.”

Gregory leaned his hip against his desk. “I can’t guarantee that we will be able to purchase the properties at the price you want. I have to be mindful of the budget.”

“All I can do is ask, Mayor. If we can’t do a deal, I’m sure the developer will be interested in this opportunity. But if he buys it, you’d lose some measure of control over what happens with the buildings, other than what’s covered under existing commercial zoning regulations, of course.”

Gregory’s heart suddenly constricted in his chest. Stodwell owned the building that Vanessa’s flower shop was in, as well as Lucy’s Bar and Grille and some others in the same block. He knew the day was coming when he’d have to oversee the collection process of all the past-due business taxes, and he was dreading it. Plus, he knew that city council would likely want to raise rents to help cover the costs of purchasing Stodwell’s commercial properties.

Both would drastically affect his popularity with Bay Point voters.

“I just want to be sure that the residents and store owners will not suffer undue harm. I wanted to gain their trust before—”

Stodwell held up a pudgy hand. “Wait a minute. They elected you the mayor of Bay Point. You already earned their trust four years ago.”

“And I don’t want to lose it, either.”

The man laughed. “You’ve got a lot of things to learn about politics, son.”

“That may be so, but how to piss off my constituency is not one of them.”

“When they see the end result, they won’t be mad. In fact, I’m willing to bet that they’ll thank you.” Stodwell paused a moment. “Need I remind you of the donation made to your campaign by my company?”

Gregory clenched his stomach muscles in disgust. He hated being made to feel as if he could be bought. It was the one thing he despised about politics.

“Your support is graciously appreciated.”

Stodwell stood. “You know, Gregory, your father and I go back a long ways. It would be a shame if you lost this election.”

“I don’t plan on losing,” he said, forcing his tone to be relaxed.

He watched Stodwell wrest his chubby arms into his too-small suit jacket, a visual reminder of the dangers of eating too many doughnuts.

“Well, Mayor. I’m glad to hear you’re so confident. But sometimes the best-laid plans have a quirky way of going awry.”

The two men shook hands.

“I’ll be in touch,” Gregory said, and closed the door behind him.

He walked over to the window, pressed his forehead against the glass and stared down at the carousel. The damn thing never worked now, but it ran fine when he was a kid.

Back when he dreamed about riding it. When he thought just one ride would make his well-to-do family normal, not a constant source of envy or gossip.

He turned away from the window and punched the intercom button. “Mariella, please bring me the list of people who owe commercial-business-related taxes.”

When he’d originally received the list several weeks ago, he hadn’t paid very close attention to the names on it.

Now there was one name he hoped he wouldn’t see: Vanessa’s.

Chapter 4

That same day, Vanessa ducked into Lucy’s and slid into one of the empty bright blue booths facing the window. She looked around and nodded to a few folks who were already seated for lunch. Thankfully, the mayor wasn’t one of them.

She put her cell phone on vibrate before stowing it away in her purse. Although she couldn’t run from Gregory forever, at least she could avoid his calls. If she picked up, no doubt he would try to persuade her to change her mind about managing his election campaign. It would be easy to tell him no on the phone. But in person? Vanessa wasn’t sure she could do that again.

She’d always been attracted to powerful men. But it wasn’t long before she discovered, often painfully, that under their shiny veneer of success, most of them weren’t very nice people to be around.

Vanessa had a feeling that Gregory was different. He didn’t look at her as if she were someone to be conquered. He didn’t try to impress her with his credentials or his bank account. Although maybe that didn’t count, because the whole town knew that he’d graduated with honors from Stanford and that his family was one of the wealthiest in Bay Point.

Instead he had reminded her of a childhood memory, one she’d long forgotten. The two of them playing together, making mud pies. And for a moment, she’d remembered what it was like to be free, unencumbered by daily responsibilities, an ever-growing mound of bills and tough choices.

He remembered my smile.

Her heart skipped a beat—

And yet he wants to destroy the carousel.

—then sank in her chest like a rock.

The Bay Point Carousel was the hub of downtown. Vehicles had to navigate around it to get to Magnolia Avenue north-or southbound or to continue west on Ocean Avenue. Parking spots jutted out on all sides like the spokes of a bicycle wheel. Right now there were only a few minivans in front, likely parents bringing their children to play, even though it currently wasn’t operational.

Vanessa peered out the window. The structure was about a block away, and though she could see only a horse or two, it was enough to stir a flood of memories, most of them happy.

She planted her elbows on the mint-green laminate table. The carousel meant so much to her and the people of Bay Point. Why didn’t it mean anything to the mayor?

And why do I care? She nearly said that thought aloud, but instead she pursed her lips and let out a slow breath.

The aromatic scent of incense and coffee beans wafted over her. She lifted her head just as Lucy Dee Diller, owner of the diner, set down a shiny aluminum carafe.

“What’s wrong, child? Rough morning?”

Vanessa nodded but chose not to mention the tall, dark and handsome half of her troubles.

“I had a bunch of deliveries to Bay Point Hospital and a few nursing homes in the area. It’s hard to see so many sick and elderly people.”

Lucy turned over a white porcelain cup and nestled it into its accompanying saucer. “Your flowers will make them feel better, no?”

Vanessa bit her lip and rubbed her palms on her khaki pants. She felt a trail of sweat bead at the base of her spine beneath her white polo, emblazoned just above her left breast with the shop’s logo.

“I guess...” She trailed off.

Although there were many patients who were on the road back to recovery, her mind always seemed to return to the ones who weren’t so lucky. She didn’t want to tell Lucy how many times she’d delivered a cheery get-well floral arrangement to an individual at the hospital and a few days later delivered a more somber arrangement to the patient’s family at a funeral home.

In her darkest moods, she sometimes wondered how flowers could make a difference. But deep down, she knew that they did because of the life-changing effect they’d had on her own life.

“I just wish I could do more. Sometimes I feel so powerless.”

“Ah...perhaps you need to rub the crystal ball more often?”

Vanessa skirted her eyes over to the large glass orb nestled on a gold-columned pedestal near the front of the store. People routinely touched or patted it on their way out of the restaurant for good luck. Being a tad germophobic and a nonbeliever in Lucy’s magic mumbo jumbo, she never indulged.

But maybe, she thought, I should start.

She grinned. “Couldn’t hurt.” Then her smile faltered. “What does your crystal ball say about the future of Bay Point?”

Lucy sighed heavily. “Change is never easy.”

She poured Vanessa some coffee, then slid into the opposite side of the booth.

“When I came to Bay Point from New Orleans to open my diner, I was twenty-two and full of California dreams. The sun...the surf...the men.” She giggled. “It was a different era.”

Vanessa’s eyes widened. “What was the town like back then?”

Lucy folded her hands like a prim schoolgirl, but her eyes held a devilish gleam. “On weekends it was like a mini Hollywood. Lots of stars would drive up the coast from Los Angeles or Beverly Hills. Beautiful women. Gorgeous men. Actors, actresses and directors seeking their escape from the production lot and the photographers.”

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