by Regina Hart
Peyton cocked her head. She gave Darius a considering look that made his muscles tremble. “If that’s the case, since you’re still here, you’re more of a story than I am.”
“Perhaps, but let’s start with your story.”
“Let’s not.”
“You still haven’t told me why not.”
Peyton’s winged brows lowered. “I don’t have to justify myself to you. I told you, I don’t want to do the interview. I don’t have to do it, and I’m not going to. My reasons are none of your business.”
Darius considered her. Angry color highlighted her sharp cheekbones. Her caramel gaze steamed. “I’m just curious. After you turned down my interview request this morning, I called Foster Gooden.”
Peyton stilled. Was she breathing? “You called my VPAA? Why would you do that?”
“I wanted his help in persuading you to do the interview.” Darius wasn’t proud of what he’d done, but he’d wanted the story.
“What did Dr. Gooden say?”
“That if you didn’t want to do the interview, he wasn’t going to force you.” Now Darius’s curiosity was at fever pitch.
“Well, then, this subject is closed. I need to get back to work.” Peyton’s relief was palpable.
“The thing is, Dr. Harris, I’d like to understand why you’re opposed to the article. Most faculty members jump at the opportunity to get publicity for their work.” Darius needed the answer to his question. He wanted to understand the “why.”
“I’ve asked you to get out.” Peyton’s voice carried an edge.
“I’ve interviewed every other faculty member at the university.”
“I want you to leave me alone.” Aggression built with her tone.
“If you don’t want to do the interview, I won’t force you—”
“You can’t force me. I won’t let you.”
“I just want to understand why.”
Peyton circled her desk and crossed to him. She grabbed Darius’s upper arm and marched him toward the door. “I won’t tell you again. Get. Out.”
Peyton caught him off guard. The top of her head didn’t even reach his shoulder. Playing football in college, Darius had tackled and been tackled by men more than twice her size. What made her think she could take him on? He could have slipped her hold at any moment. Yet he allowed the pissed-off, pocket-sized professor to drag him to her door—and then shut said door in his face.
Darius stared in shock at the sealed entrance before walking away from Peyton’s office. He shook his head in confusion. If nothing else, this encounter convinced him the former New York University professor wasn’t going to change her mind about an interview.
But he’d still like to know why not.
The bell above the main cabin’s door chimed Wednesday morning. Jack welcomed the distraction from his bookkeeping—until he looked up from the registration desk and saw the stranger crossing the lobby. He dragged a rolling suitcase across the hardwood floor.
Jack stood. “Can I help you?”
The sesquicentennial had lured former neighbors back to Trinity Falls. It also had attracted a few strangers, but no one had reserved a rental. Few people knew Harmony Cabins existed.
“Give me a cabin.” Without looking at Jack, the stranger stood the suitcase on its end, then pulled his wallet from the back pocket of his white mesh shorts.
“I don’t have any.” Something about the man rubbed Jack the wrong way. It might have been the matching white mesh shirt worn over a black T-shirt. White canvas shoes completed the odd outfit. The guy couldn’t be from anywhere near here.
The would-be guest stared at him in incredulity. “What do you mean you don’t have any? I just passed four of them on my way over here.”
“They aren’t available.”
“Are you telling me they’re all booked?” He gestured behind him. “Why don’t you have a No Vacancies sign up, then?”
Jack crossed his arms, growing tired of the smaller man. “They’re being renovated.”
“What the hell does that mean? Do you know who I am?” He held up his gold American Express card. “I’m Wendell Weber, music producer.”
Jack froze.
CHAPTER 19
This was Audra’s ex-boyfriend? The man on the other side of the counter was average height and weight. His tan features were clean-shaven except for the soul patch hanging from his bottom lip. His diamond stud earrings were the size of nickels.
“Did Audra know you were coming?”
“She’s mentioned me?” Wendell puffed his chest forward.
What had she seen in this guy? “Not in favorable terms.”
The music producer’s grin disappeared. “Who are you?”
“Jack Sansbury.”
Wendell looked him up and down. “You got something going on with her?” When Jack didn’t respond, Wendell continued. “You own this place or something?”
“Yes.” Jack didn’t like Wendell’s smile.
“Well, good for her.” His expression sobered. “Which cabin’s she staying in? I want to talk to her.”
No. Way. “Guest information is confidential.”
Wendell rolled his eyes. “Come on, you know I know her. Just tell me where she’s staying.”
“That’s the policy.” Which he’d just made up.
“Then give me a cabin.”
“They aren’t available.”
“I came all the way from L.A. for this? This is bullshit. Where am I supposed to stay?”
“In L.A.”
“Funny.” Wendell was surly. “This place got any hotels?”
“Yes.”
Wendell scowled. “You wanna tell me where they are?”
Against his better judgment, Jack pulled out a map. He drew one circle around the town’s hotel and another around the bed-and-breakfast.
“We’re here.” He drew an X near Pearl Lake.
Wendell studied the map for several moments. He rapped twice on the counter. “Thanks, man. Tell Audra I’ll call her later.”
Jack watched the other man drag his wheeled suitcase back across the lobby and through the door. He’d dreaded the day Audra would return to L.A. It seemed L.A. had come to her.
“I heard you were thinking of pulling out of the mayoral race.” The challenge in Ramona’s tone echoed in her strides as she entered Books & Bakery’s kitchen Wednesday afternoon.
Doreen straightened from unloading the dishwasher and watched the younger woman strut to the chair at the small table in the corner. “News always travels fast in Trinity Falls.”
“I never thought I’d hear this news: Doreen Fever backs away from a fight.” Ramona sat and crossed her long dancer’s legs, readjusting the skirt of her lemon yellow summer minidress. She’d gathered her thick raven tresses into a ponytail. Her café au lait features bore the barest hint of makeup.
“I’m not afraid of Simon. I know I can beat him.”
“That’s not the fight I was talking about.” Ramona swung her top leg, letting her strappy yellow sandal dangle from her toes.
“Then what is it?”
“Leo.”
Doreen’s heart popped into her throat. She swallowed to push it back into place. “Did he ask you to talk with me?”
Ramona’s arched eyebrows lifted. “Doreen, we’re not in the fifth grade. What makes you think I’m passing notes? You’re both grown. If you want to talk with each other, just talk.”
Doreen stared absently at the white-tiled kitchen floor. “I thought he might have . . .”
“What?” Ramona prompted. “Come to his senses? Have you come to yours?”
Doreen’s gaze shot back up to meet Ramona’s. “What do you mean?”
“You said you got into this race because you care about Trinity Falls. You cared so much that you were prepared to challenge me for my job—and you know I would’ve beaten you.”
“Actually, Ramona, I don’t know that.” Doreen’s response was dry.
Ramona waved a di
smissive hand. “We can argue that another time. It’s not relevant to this discussion.”
“Then what is your point? Why are you here?” Doreen let her impatience show.
“To help you find your spine.” Ramona uncrossed her legs and sat straighter on her chair.
Doreen’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”
Ramona ignored the interruption. “Megan and Ean were too nice to say anything Sunday when you dropped this bomb on them. But someone needs to hold a mirror in front of your face.”
Doreen inhaled a sharp breath. The scents of sugar and coffee were familiar. “I haven’t lost my spine.”
“Yes, Doreen, you have. What happened to the woman who filed her application for the election, despite Leo? You told him, if he couldn’t handle your being mayor, he could find the door. What happened to that woman?”
“That was before.” Doreen cringed. Had she really said that? She turned from Ramona and continued unloading the dishwasher.
“You mean before Leo tried to play you by bringing Yvette to Quincy and my going-away party?” Ramona’s snort was incongruous with her sophisticated appearance. “Oh, please. The English teacher dating the high-school football coach? Can you think of anything more clichéd?”
“Maybe this sounds silly to you, but I’m still finding myself, Ramona. I’m not sure who I am, who I want to be, who I should be. You’re young and confident. You’ve always had your family’s support to be who you wanted to be.” Doreen shrugged. “I don’t expect you to understand.”
Ramona’s ebony eyes twinkled at her. “You’re wrong, Doreen. I understand perfectly.”
Doreen arched an eyebrow at the town’s mayor. “I find that hard to believe.”
“You shouldn’t.” Ramona stood to join Doreen at the counter. “I’ve tried many identities, looking for the one that most suited me. I tried to be a New Yorker. That lasted seven months. I thought I could be mayor. That’s barely lasted one term.”
Doreen waved a hand to interrupt the younger woman. “Ramona, you’re a good mayor.”
“You’ll be a better one.”
“But is that who I should be?” Doreen expelled a deep breath. “If my choices are between being mayor and being Leo’s wife, I’m not certain I want to choose a lifestyle in which all I have are a bunch of policies and bureaucracy, and council members breathing down my neck.”
Ramona leaned a hip against the kitchen counter. “But the choice should be yours. Don’t let Leo or anyone else define you, Doreen.”
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Yes, you are. Stay in the race. You have to decide who you are. Don’t allow other people to make that decision for you. I’m speaking from experience.”
Doreen watched her friend with new eyes. “Aren’t you trying to define me by telling me to stay in the race?”
Ramona shook her head. “I’m not telling you who you are. I’m telling you who you aren’t. You’re not a quitter.”
“No matter what I do, I’m quitting something, either the race or my relationship with Leo.” Doreen rubbed the frown between her eyebrows.
“Being mayor is a natural progression in your community involvement. Leo should know that. He’s known you for more than sixteen years.”
“Yes, but—”
“No ‘but.’ Why would you change who you are?”
Doreen hesitated. “Because I’m afraid of losing Leo.”
Ramona arched a neat brow. “Do you really want a lover who’d use scare tactics to keep you?”
Doreen’s eyes widened. When you put it like that . . . “No, I don’t.”
“Good.” Ramona heaved a sigh as she straightened from the kitchen counter. “My job here is done.”
Doreen smiled. “Yes, it is. I’m not quitting. Leo can accept me as I am, or he can find the door.”
Ramona shrugged her slender shoulders. “Frankly, if he’s causing you all this trouble over the election, I don’t think Leo’s the right man for you.”
Doreen watched the other woman strut through the door, much as she’d entered the room minutes before. Ramona was the second person to tell her Leonard wasn’t right for her. But since Alonzo had an agenda, could she trust his judgment?
Audra rocked to a stop in front of Books & Bakery. She blinked twice. When her vision didn’t clear, she had to accept that her eyes weren’t playing a trick on her. Wendell Weber had come to Trinity Falls.
Shit.
His blindingly white shorts outfit was more suited to the Hamptons than Trinity Falls, Ohio. He was climbing out of his rental car and hadn’t seen her yet. Audra had two choices: pretend she hadn’t seen him and continue to her car, or confront him.
She ground her teeth and marched across the Trinity Falls Town Center parking lot. “What are you doing here?”
Wendell blinked away his surprise. His reaction confirmed that he hadn’t expected to find her at the center. It was just her bad luck he had. “Is that any way to greet an old friend? We haven’t seen each other in months.”
He’d brought everything she disliked about Los Angeles with him: the stench of smog, the feeling of being crowded, the bitter taste of deception.
Audra unclenched her teeth before they cracked. “How did you find me?”
“Your mother told me where you were.” His smile grew even wider. “Running into you in this crowded parking lot means we were meant to find each other.”
Audra was going to be sick.
She’d noticed additional people arriving for the town’s sesquicentennial celebration. The pedestrian traffic at the town center had increased. Books & Bakery was even more crowded, especially during lunch.
Audra’s grip tightened on her Books & Bakery pastry bag. “There are laws against stalking. You’ve wasted your time coming here.”
“Your mother likes me.” Wendell cocked his head. “You didn’t tell her about Tammy, did you?”
Audra glared in silence. No, she hadn’t been able to tell her mother about Wendell’s pregnant fiancée and the total depth of his deception. She’d been too ashamed. Then why had she been able to confide in Jack?
“Go back to Los Angeles, Wendell.” She crossed the parking lot to her rental car.
Wendell followed her. “Where are you going?”
“Back to my cabin.”
“Good. I’ll join you.”
Audra spun to face him. She stepped back when she realized how close he’d been. “No, you won’t. Go back to Los Angeles. I don’t want you at the cabins. I don’t want you in Trinity Falls.”
“I’ve been to your cabins.”
That brought Audra up short. “You have?”
“Yes. I met the property owner. Is something going on between you?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Maybe it is.”
She saw the spite in his small brown eyes. Audra grew cold, then burned with anger. “You and I have nothing to discuss. Lose my number. Lose every memory you have of ever knowing me. I’m serious, Wendell. I never want to see you again.”
It was a battle of wills as they stared each other down. Audra wasn’t giving in. She’d stand in this parking lot, glaring at Wendell until the next sesquicentennial if that’s what it took to get him out of her life.
Wendell blinked first. “Fine. If you want me to go away, I will. On one condition.”
Of course he had a condition. “What?”
“Convince Electra Day to let me produce her next album.”
Audra’s jaw dropped. “What? No way.” She dug her car keys from her purse.
“Don’t be that way, Audra.” He clamped a hand on her shoulder.
Audra glared from his touch to his eyes. “Get your hand off me.”
Wendell stepped back, lifting both hands in a sign of surrender. “Come on, Audra. I’m having a little trouble getting my production company started. All I need is one big name to help me get off the ground, then I’ll be fine. You’ve worked with Electra. She trusts you. If you t
ell her I can turn her next album into a hit, she’ll listen to you. Then people will see what I can do, and other big names will follow.”
“What a load of bullshit.”
“No, it’s not.”
A warm breeze riffled through her hair. Audra brushed back the tousled strands. “Wendell, my name got your foot in the industry’s door, but you need talent to keep the door open. You obviously don’t have any.”
His tan features twisted into an ugly mask of rage. He stuck a finger in her face. “Now that’s a load of bullshit.”
She slapped his hand away and held her ground. “You made a lot of promises, but you didn’t deliver on the quality of your work.”
“Who said that?” His tone was rough.
“Everyone.” The word was delicious, tripping off Audra’s tongue. Was it wrong to feel such glowing satisfaction? “People love to gossip.”
His dark eyes searched hers. “You won’t help me?”
“Even if I could, what makes you think I would?”
“You know, Audra, I’m not the only person whose happiness could be taken from them.”
Audra stepped forward. “Are you threatening me?”
He shook his bald head. “No, I’m just making an observation.”
“Is everything all right?” Sheriff Alonzo Lopez’s question interrupted their standoff.
“Yes, thank you, Sheriff.” Audra broke eye contact with Wendell and attempted a smile for the lawman.
Alonzo looked approachable in his Smokey-the-Bear-like uniform. One large paw incongruously gripped a dainty lavender Books & Bakery pastry bag.
Alonzo inclined his head in greeting toward Audra before turning to Wendell. “Welcome to Trinity Falls. Are you in town for the sesquicentennial?”
Wendell’s frown was part irritation, part confusion. “What?”
Alonzo remained unruffled. “Town’s celebrating its one hundred and fiftieth birthday.”
“I’m happy for it, but this is a private conversation.” Wendell waved a hand between him and Audra.
“And this is a public parking lot.” Alonzo’s reply was slow and easy.
