Of course he hadn’t made an appointment with the Director of Tourism. If the guy saw Dev’s name, there was a good chance he’d blow off the request for a meeting.
“No, but we only need a few minutes.” Anna’s posture and presence oozed competence with a hint of authority.
The admin looked Anna up and down, then back to Devlin. Her gaze shifted from looking impressed, to looking interested.
“I’ll see if he can meet with you. Who may I say is here to see him?”
“Devlin Bradley with—”
“Honeywilde,” Ms. Hendricks finished for him, tilting her head, her eyes sparkling. “I thought you looked familiar. I used to go up there every summer.”
Wonderful. She knew the resort, and probably him.
“I love that place. I should’ve known you’d turn out as handsome as your father. Hang on a minute, honey. Let me see if Mr. Crawford can talk to you for a quick little minute.”
Anna lifted an eyebrow as the lady went into Crawford’s office. “Are you sure you need my help? You seem to do fine on your own.”
“She’s not the one I’m worried about.”
Ms. Hendricks emerged, holding the office door open. “Mr. Crawford said he has a few minutes, that’s all.”
Anna went with him into the modest office, but hung back after they’d all shaken hands.
Crawford didn’t wear a bow tie. The situation was even worse. He had on a sweater vest.
“You want access to what?” He circled around to the other side of his desk as soon as Dev asked him about the financial records for the festival.
He didn’t sit, but stood with the desk and a large leather chair between him and Devlin.
Since that’s how it was going to be, Dev stepped closer to the desk. “Not every last detail. Just the basic numbers for the overall cost of the event. We’re considering taking on the role as the event organizer, but we need an idea of cost first.”
“I wasn’t aware the city had approached you about doing anything like that.”
Dev shot a look at Anna, and she nodded encouragingly. “They haven’t. But the festival is a local and tourist favorite, and we’ve already gone three years without it.”
With a nod, Crawford shoved his glasses up his long nose. “I can have someone pull those numbers for you, but it might take a while. You know we run a smaller staff here during the summer.”
“A while being . . . ?”
“A few weeks or so.”
He didn’t have a few weeks. He should’ve known things wouldn’t be easy.
Anna jumped in. “Surely someone knows an estimate, at least. That would be a start, and we could wait on the exact numbers to follow.”
Crawford shifted, pushing at his glasses again. “And are you also with Honeywilde?”
Anna cast Dev a glance from the corner of her eyes, then lifted her chin. “Consultant. The resort is very interested in bringing this festival back to life, and they sought my expertise.”
“Then you know Windamere made the decision not to have the festival anymore. The event was too much of a financial burden on the town, so whatever numbers we could provide wouldn’t be good. I assure you.”
“All the same, we’d like to see them.” She tilted her head and smiled, but the expression was miles away from the smiles she gave Dev. “Even if it takes a while.”
This was work-mode Anna. Don’t-patronize-me Anna. Take-none-of-your-horseshit Anna.
And he dug it.
Crawford worked his jaw. “We’ll see what we can do.”
This guy wasn’t going to give them a damn thing. They were wasting their time and, judging from the ropey vein that was starting to pulse in Crawford’s neck, only pissing the man off more and more with their presence.
“Thank you.” Dev forced out the pleasantry. “Anything you can provide will be a big help.”
Crawford’s chin ticked up a notch, mouth pinched. “Maybe if you plan a little further ahead next year, my office could be of more help. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting.”
“Sure thing.” Devlin walked away from the losing battle, but he’d be damned if he’d lose the war.
They left the building and got back in his SUV.“What was that guy’s problem?” Dev slammed the driver’s side door closed.
“You won’t get anywhere with men like that. You have to go around them.”
“But it wasn’t just me, right? That guy was kind of a dick.”
“Definitely.”
Dev imitated the guy. “If you’d planned ahead, maybe I could help, but right now I have to go to a meeting, so you can kiss my ass.”
“He didn’t exactly say that.”
“Close enough. He sounded like my brother.” Dev revved the engine and spun the tires leaving the parking lot.
Immediately, he let off the gas. He was better than this now; not that hotheaded guy anymore, and Anna was with him.
“Shit. Sorry.” He adjusted his grip on the steering wheel, rubbing the palms of his hands against it.
She flicked her wrist, like brushing away air. “Sometimes you have to let off steam.”
Rejection at the tourism office left him empty-handed. What now? Forging ahead with the festival was a stress he’d brought upon himself and he was currently sitting at a dead end.
At the red light, Anna turned to him. “I could be wrong, but Crawford seemed awfully unhelpful. Is that normal for small-town government?”
No, but it was a normal reaction to Dev’s presence. Still, he didn’t really know Crawford and he got the feeling the man’s chilly behavior had more to do with what they wanted than who Dev was.
“What about the look on his face when he thought you were a paid consultant?” Dev shook his head. Crawford looked like he’d been goosed.
The guy was a shifty, sweater vest-wearing roadblock, but that wasn’t going to ruin their whole day. “How about some afternoon coffee?”
Anna’s smile soothed his edginess. “I never say no to coffee.”
They pulled up at what easily passed as a shanty or shack. A building no bigger than ten by ten, with a walk-up window and drive-thru, outdoor seating only.
“I know the place looks like crap, but their coffee is amazing. Sophie orders our coffee from the same roaster.”
Opting to park and sit outdoors, they walked up to the order window as a hippy-looking fellow in a man-bun greeted them.
“The coffee is a dollar.” Anna poked Dev in the arm. “A dollar?”
They ordered two; one black, one sweet and creamy, and sat alone at one of the wrought iron tables out front.
As soon as they sat down, Anna took a deep breath and, with a serious stare, opened her mouth. “There has to be someone else you can talk to about the numbers for the festival. That guy was stonewalling us. Getting your hands on paperwork shouldn’t be that difficult.”
“There is no one else. The tourism office handled every aspect of the festival.”
“What if we ask around? The businesses that have always participated in years past. They might be able to give you an idea of numbers, while we wait on something official. We could go around and talk to them.”
The extent of what he’d gotten himself into struck stronger than the caffeine in his drink. “If my family finds out you’re helping me, they’ll kill me.”
“No, they won’t.” She brushed him off and sipped her coffee.
“Not literally, but they’ll want to. I’m serious. I’ll never live this one down. They might even kick me out for good.”
“They aren’t going to kick you out. Besides, they’ll never know. They don’t know about me helping with the plants, or coming with you today.”
“Not yet. It’s Windamere, people talk. Word will get back. I’m an idiot.”
She reached across the table, placing her hand over his, red nails catching the sunlight. “We’re smart. We can come up with something. If your family asks, I am the consultant you sought to help you. And you paid out of
pocket because you’re that committed to the project.”
Dev laughed and turned his hand, his palm against hers. “Normally takes me more than a few days to be such a bad influence on someone.”
“Then we’re agreed. If your family hears you’re asking around with a mysterious woman, I’m a consultant. You know, I’ve always wanted to be a mysterious woman.”
“You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“I’m on vacation, remember? Now, who else could we go to for any info on the last few festivals?”
He shrugged, racking his brain. “Maybe Wright knows someone who’d help us out.”
“Wright, your chef, who was helping you chase the dog?”
“Yeah, but he’s been my best friend since elementary school. His family knows everyone, and everything, in this town.”
“Then I bet they’d help. You should ask them.”
“Eh. They’d have to like me before they’d help me.”
“They don’t like you?”
“Not hardly. To them, I was the bad influence, the devil on the shoulder of their sweet, innocent baby boy. Or so they thought.” Little did they know, Wright had a wild streak a mile wide, he’d just been wiser than Dev, and knew when to lay low.
Back in the day, Dev had no off switch. Wright was the one voice of reason in his circle of friends, but Dev hadn’t listened.
“And now he works for you.”
“Not me. Roark signs the paychecks; Wright is only somewhat accountable to me. I want no part in being my best friend’s boss. Hell no.”
“Probably how Roark feels about being his brother’s boss.”
Dev stopped with his cup halfway to his lips.
“I don’t have any brothers or sisters, so I wouldn’t know, but . . . I imagine it’s not always easy.”
They drank their coffee, silent for a moment, Anna’s fingers drifting back and forth across his wrist.
Working for and with family was rarely easy, but they managed. Sure, it had to be tough on Roark, being the boss of his siblings, but he didn’t seem to mind. Roark took everything in stride and, if anything, he loved being in charge. No way would big brother ever be the one taking orders and not giving them. He asked for their opinions, but the truth was Roark called the shots at the resort and he was the final say on how they spent the income.
Dev had to show him the festival could be profitable, or it’d never happen. And, to show him, he needed the black-and-white proof.
“I’m screwed if I can’t get past that Crawford guy. People would participate in the festival, the way they did for years, but without my brother’s backing, there is no festival.”
Anna tapped at her cup and sipped. Sipped and tapped.
He could almost see the lightbulb go on over her head, eyes lighting up, eyebrows raised as she plopped the cup down. “Maybe not.”
“Maybe not, what?”
“You’d probably still need your brother’s support, but what if you didn’t need any records to get it?”
“You’ve lost me.”
“I have a few clients, nonprofits that keep little money on the books for tax reasons. So, when it comes time to raise all the money, they have a big event, with tons of publicity, and they do it with corporate sponsors. They ask corporations up front for money. Some of it goes to the cost of the event; the rest goes to their cause. Then the corporations keep giving money throughout the year, because they want the publicity of participating. Think large galas and balls. What if you got the businesses of Windamere to register to participate first? Then would Roark agree to use the Honeywilde name as organizer?”
He scowled. “How are they going to participate when I’ve got zilch for them to participate in?”
“If you’re so certain the town wants this festival, get them to buy in now. Call a tent-rental place, get a price for setup and takedown. Get a price from a company that can handle any audio-visual needs, and tack on a few hundred for wiggle room. Then you know what you’ll probably need in deposits. Get them, and go to Roark with what you have. It’d be proof that everyone wants the festival to happen, and with that kind of money behind it, he’d probably say yes.”
Anna was sharp as a tack, but her idea was nuts.
“And if he says no, I’m forced to go back to all those people and explain the festival isn’t happening.” That he’d screwed up. Failed. Again.
“Roark won’t say no if the festival won’t lose money, right? Then what have you got to lose by seeing who’s interested enough to pay up?”
A lot. But her idea was a good one. All of her ideas were good. The kink in the chain was him.
If he could bring back the festival, he might earn something more than people’s suspicion. Less gossip and sideways glances, more respect and confidence.
He could prove himself capable and restore one of the few things in Windamere that brought him fond memories. Everyone loved the festival, he as much as anyone.
His family had happy memories of those weekends. Hell, one year Roark had even volunteered for the dunking booth. Dev had never laughed so hard in his life as when he saw the look on Roark’s face when a five-year-old dunked him.
Anna suggested he approach the fine business people of town, and ask for their cash and confidence, like it was no big deal.
It was all a big deal. Asking for people’s trust, the festival. Perhaps he’d bitten off more than he could chew.
He shook his head and finished off his coffee. “I don’t know.”
Brenda and her son were one thing. They were about the only locals who didn’t look down on Dev with derision and doubt.
Everyone else was polite enough, and distantly friendly, but that was due to Roark and Sophie. His family and the Bradley name allowed for a pass when it came to the occasional run-in or quick business dealing.
But to trust Devlin Bradley, the same Devlin Bradley who’d once gotten busted for spray-painting the statue of the town’s founder, contributor to the delinquency of about half their kids, to pull off Windamere’s Blueberry Festival? To have faith in him?
It’d never happen.
He’d been counting on Roark’s support. When people heard Roark was in, they’d be in too.
Oh, Roark is helping put the festival back together? Great. Of course we’ll sign up. That Roark is so clever. He can do anything.
They saw Devlin approaching them with his hand out, they’d think he must need bail or was up to something.
Remember that time he got arrested for breaking into the Tool and Tackle shop? Fifteen. The boy was fifteen years old and breaking and entering. I heard he went to jail.
That was the Devlin the people in town knew. The one who barely got into college and then got kicked out. The one who’d probably be on parole right now if it weren’t for his big brother taking him in and giving him a job.
They didn’t know the Devlin he wanted to be. The man he was trying to become. The one who gave a damn. Who’d tried for almost three years now to get his shit together and be more. To work hard, to deserve the love his family gave him, willingly, for so long. Somehow make up for over a decade’s worth of messing up.
But he couldn’t tell Anna any of that. She never knew the old Devlin, and by god, she never would.
“I don’t see how it’d work, me asking people to commit and give money. That’s not really . . . what they expect of me. My ideas are usually crap.” He went with a vague explanation instead of blurting there was no way in hell the people of Windamere would give him money.
“I completely disagree.”
“Well, don’t hold back.”
“I mean it. Your ideas are not crap. You can pull this off, but you have to try. I’ve seen how people react to you. Crawford excluded. Brenda, the admin downtown, even the hippy barista back there. You’re charming, but more importantly, genuine. People like genuine. Never, ever underestimate the power of nice people asking nicely.”
She thought he was nice.
Proof she didn�
�t really know him.
“I ask people for money all the time,” she went on. “And a lot more than a small deposit for a festival. Convince them they need to spend money to make money.”
“And they do it. People give you tons of money because you can make them a ton more.”
“Basically.”
“And would my consultant go around with me and talk to people? Convince them of the genius in this insane plan?”
“It’s not insane.” She grabbed his hand and shook it. “You have to at least try. Aren’t you supposed to be the adventurous one?”
The plan was a little insane, and a lot risky, but what other option did he have? Good thing he was accustomed to risk. “We’ll have to go around to businesses on Wednesday. I’m working at the inn all day tomorrow.”
“So you’ll do it?”
“What other choice is there?”
She clapped her hands. “This might work. You’ll see.”
“You know, when it comes to people letting go of their cash, they like someone fancy and important to be the one taking it. You do fancy and important very well.”
She smiled over the lid of her coffee. “You’re plenty fancy. For Windamere.”
His laugh burst out. “True.”
“Of course I’ll go with you. That’s my part of our agreement, remember?”
With a wink, he shot his empty coffee cup into the garbage can, ten feet away. “What time do you have to get back?”
“Whenever I want. I’m on vacation.”
“Perfect. I’m not due back until dinner.” He grabbed her hand, pulling her from the table. “So we have all the time in the world for my part.”
Chapter 11
The road curved up the mountain in gentle turns, all around her a blanket of green.
Below them, the town hid beneath the canopy of trees. Only the tallest building and a few steeples peeked through. They climbed higher and higher, as though they could rise above the worries of real life.
But Anna knew that was impossible.
Perhaps she could put her troubles on hold, delay dealing with them while indulging in Devlin’s company, but they remained. Lying in wait for the time she had no choice but to face them.
A Date with Desire Page 10
