by Jean Oram
She ignored him, taking in Benny’s Big Burger. The establishment looked more like a hodgepodge family Italian joint than a fast food place as the name suggested. The town was quirky, that was for sure. She excused herself to head to the washroom to freshen up before Devon’s girlfriend arrived.
Wiping down her Manolo Blahniks with a piece of damp paper towel, Olivia sighed at the scratches and dirt that had accumulated. Devon’s girl-wonder better have something amazing to make their destruction worth it. Because yes, money and appearances weren’t everything, but these were very nice shoes. Power shoes. Take-me-seriously shoes.
Olivia looked in the mirror, fixing her lip gloss and tucking back her curls, while giving her outfit a once-over. She looked every bit the professional she was. She’d go out there and have a to-the-point meeting, then report back to her scientists, leaving them to handle details—if there was anything to handle.
Then no more dealing with Devon or this town. It would be back to her real life. Nice linens, no dirt or dust. No messy thoughts or guilt about the past.
And Luke.
What was she going to do about the perfectly wonderful Luke?
Later. She could worry about that on the four hour drive back. Right now she had this to deal with.
She threw the soiled paper towel in the trash and headed to the table Devon had chosen at the back of the restaurant. Across from him was a pretty woman with a long dark brown ponytail, her smile open and fresh.
Interesting. Not sitting side by side? Was she trying to act professional?
Olivia could respect that.
“Hello,” Olivia said, introducing herself and shaking hands with Jill Armstrong, who had stood along with Devon. She was tall, slim, and dressed with an eye to detail. According to Devon, Jill had been working with local tribes to learn more about medicinal, natural ingredients for her homemade soap and skin care line.
Devon placed a light palm at Olivia’s lower back, guiding her into a chair he pulled out for her. The touch felt intimate, and she felt a spark of uncomfortable appreciation for his manners, which had always surprised her even back in their college days. She wasn’t sure why, just that she supposed she didn’t expect him to care about social niceties when his attitude tended to border on cavalier. But he did. And she’d always liked that about him.
“Thank you.”
She caught Jill giving Devon a quick look, and Olivia’s ex-girlfriend radar blipped. She’d bet her wardrobe that Jill and Devon weren’t current but that Jill still had a small thing for Devon and was feeling slightly threatened by Olivia. That was sure to make things complicated if the woman thought Olivia still had any sort of designs on the man, other than the urge to murder him in his sleep for acting so cool and unaffected about the past. Why didn’t he yell at her? Say all those things he must have bottled up inside?
Sure, she’d see a hint of hurt in his eyes here and there, and, despite her wishes not to, she’d spent many a sleepless night wishing they’d ended things on a better note. And that was even though she knew she’d done the right thing, protecting him. It was something she wouldn’t change even if she had a time machine. But he just…didn’t seem as affected as she was. Had none of it been as big of a deal to him?
Maybe he understood now. Maybe he knew his plan wouldn’t have worked, because there was no way they could have floated through marriage after only three months of dating. And with their college degrees incomplete, they wouldn’t have been ready to be parents, either.
She’d needed her family and their help, and he’d taken it as a personal rejection, instead of seeing that she’d been seeking solid support in a situation she was wholly unprepared for and that had scared her beyond belief.
Olivia settled into her spot at the table, her heart banging with old pent-up emotions, wishing she was meeting with emotionless, unknown CEOs right now.
“I heard you had issues with the protesters,” Jill said, her voice filled with genuine concern.
“Devon exaggerates,” she assured her as the waitress poured them all cups of coffee. “The past is in the past and I’ll be better prepared to deal with them next time.” She folded her hands on the tabletop.
“I heard from Liz and Mary Alice that they were quite confrontational.”
Mary Alice. That woman was everywhere, wasn’t she? Maybe that was why Jill was looking threatened. Mary Alice had probably already announced her crazy marriage prediction to the entire town.
Olivia opened a small notebook she carried in her purse.
“Is that a Gucci? It’s beautiful.” Jill’s blue eyes were wide and she almost drooled.
Olivia felt the same way about the bag and smiled. “Thanks.” She poised her pen over the notebook. “I hear you’re the expert on the local strain of valerian and its properties.”
Jill blushed. “I’ve learned a lot from the Ute medicine men. They’ve been very generous with their knowledge.” Olivia couldn’t help but like her. She was so sweet and unassuming. So unlike the type that would try to murder Devon in his sleep.
Before long they were deep in discussions about the plant’s medicinal effects and more. Devon hung back, flagging down a middle-aged waitress in a tight polyester uniform to refill their cups as they ran low.
Olivia glanced up at one point, deep in thought. The Blueberry Springs variety of valerian sounded as though it was exactly what they needed for a longer product shelf life. The only problem was volume. How could she get enough—especially with the dam about to destroy the biggest field of it? She tapped the table restlessly, then frowned as she recognized someone across the restaurant. A very large, fit man was sitting alone at a table with a cup of coffee, his vibe suggesting he was protecting the place simply by being there, on guard. He looked just like Logan Stone, the man her old college roommate, Ginger McGinty, had had her arms wrapped around in her recent wedding announcement.
“Is that Ginger McGinty’s husband?” Olivia asked quietly, still watching him. She’d never met the Australian, but had heard plenty about their whirlwind romance and quick marriage from Ginger via video chats. Hardly surprising considering the way Ginger had swooned over anything with an accent and a Y chromosome back in their undergraduate days.
“Yes,” Devon said.
The man in question glanced over and gave a faint smile and nod, then turned his attention to the front windows that overlooked Main Street.
Beside her Devon shifted uneasily.
Jill was asking her something, her ponytail slung over her shoulder, her fingers tangled in its ends in what Olivia knew was a nervous habit.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Olivia asked.
“Why organic?” Jill repeated, her face bright with the joy of getting to speak about what was obviously her passion.
Olivia felt a familiar crushing sensation inside whenever she thought about how the doctors had found toxins in her grandmother’s bone marrow, chemicals commonly found in stage makeup from decades past—and even more modern products.
“My grandmother had a few health issues doctors believed resulted from extended exposure to toxins found in certain cosmetics.”
“Not Carrington?” Jill asked quietly.
Olivia shook her head. The party line was that Carrington didn’t use banned ingredients, but honestly, the regulations weren’t as tight as they were with food and drugs, leaving plenty of loopholes and exceptions that allowed carcinogenic and other questionable ingredients into cosmetics—Carrington’s included. But the particular one that had been found in her grandmother was not used by the family firm.
Olivia gave a small, practiced smile. “My grandmother used to be an actress and wore a lot of makeup.” She sucked in a deep breath, ready to deliver the party line. “She wasn’t always a Carrington customer.” She found herself adding, “The fact is, Carrington could be more careful, too. The whole industry could.”
She shut her eyes for a second, making a quick wish. Please don’t let Jill use that the wrong way
. What she’d just said was practically a confession. Then again, anyone could find out the truth by reading product labels and performing a few quick online searches.
Jill placed a hand over Olivia’s, surprising her. “I’m so sorry. Will she be okay?”
She kept a smile on her face she didn’t feel. “Thank you. She passed away last year of bone cancer.”
Jill’s own face sagged with sympathy. Olivia didn’t dare look at Devon to judge his reaction. He’d once been insightful and caring, but he also liked to break tension with a joke and she didn’t think she could handle that right now.
“I admire what you’re attempting,” Jill said. “If there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know. My knowledge—the knowledge of the Ute—is yours.”
“I have to admit, given the dam issue, the timing of this find isn’t great,” Olivia said, pushing her coffee cup away in favor of water with a slice of lemon. She’d practically been drenching herself in caffeine for the past two hours, and it was time to switch to something else so she didn’t vibrate all the way back to her family tonight.
She wouldn’t need FDA approval to use valerian, but she’d need a toxicology report. That was doable, as her head scientist, Vintra Badami, could whip one up in a day or two. He would also discover how strong the various properties of this particular strain were. All good information to have.
And the bonus was that her father had brought him to the retreat this year to discuss ingredients which meant she could get him to come check things out with her.
But if the valerian worked…she’d need land, greenhouses, a processing plant. No, she was getting ahead of herself and into that technical stuff she’d despised in her business management courses. She could get someone like her sister to deal with that headache—assuming Emma’s recent stressed-out behavior didn’t prevent her from wanting to take on more.
Olivia made a mental note to check in on her and make sure she was okay.
“I need to talk to my scientists,” she said, closing her notebook. “But I’d like to bring one of them out here.”
“When?” Devon asked.
“As soon as possible.” She smiled at Jill as she stood, then reached out to shake her hand as she and Devon stood as well. “Thank you for taking the time to discuss this with Carrington Cosmetics.”
“We need to stop Barry Lunn,” Jill said abruptly. “He doesn’t know what’s best for the town.”
“Who’s Barry Lunn?” Olivia asked, glancing at Devon, who was acting as if the tabletop was a piece of abstract art in need of immediate deciphering.
“He’s running for reelection as mayor.” Jill was watching Devon. “His version of progress is giving our town away to the hydroelectric company. Nobody wants that monstrosity looming over the town and flooding everything upstream.”
“Barry wouldn’t know progress if he slept with it,” Devon said lightly. There was a tightness in his jaw that suggested he might actually care. A lot.
“His mother has him like a puppet on a string,” Jill muttered. “She knows nothing about running a town, but he listens to everything she says, then takes it up a notch. Completely misguided.”
“So tell me more about this,” Olivia said. “He’s the current mayor?”
Jill nodded. In the car, Devon had said something about this. A change in guard could impact things.
“When’s the election?”
“A week from Monday.”
“In nine days?” Olivia stared at them both. “Nine?” No wonder they were in a panic. But if this Barry Lunn fellow gave the town away to companies, maybe she stood a chance. Other than the fact that he planned to bulldoze and flood the areas where the most valerian grew. But still…she might be able to cut a deal with him. It wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility. But it was still a long shot, seeing as her needs conflicted with the dam’s and this valerian wasn’t officially registered as rare or endangered, just more difficult to find in large quantities, by the sounds of it.
“He’s planning on hustling the dam approval through in the first week of his new term,” Devon said. “He tried to get it done before the end of this current one, but I convinced the council to wait, that we needed more reports.”
“And?”
“And I managed to win an extra four weeks.”
She turned to Devon, hands clenching. She didn’t have four weeks. It was already the second to last Saturday before the Monday election. After that, hello hydroelectric dam.
“Don’t blame me,” he said lightly, reading her mind. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for weeks.”
All those unreturned calls. She’d ignored them, assuming…well, she’d assumed the worst.
Time to sort out some backup plans. She turned to Jill who was fussing with her ponytail. “How common is this strain? Outside of the meadow?” These plants had to love more than one little mountain location.
“I—I’m not sure,” Jill said. “I’ve only seen it around here and there. Nothing like in the meadow.”
“Can you ask the elders?”
“Blueberry Springs is receptive to Carrington Cosmetics,” Devon interjected quickly. “And land is cheap here.”
“What happens if Mr. Lunn doesn’t win? No dam?”
She was going to need to meet him and the other candidates if this valerian was all it was touted to be.
“The dam will go through only if Barry wins,” Devon said firmly.
“Great. Who are the other candidates for office?”
He glanced at Jill again, sharing that meaningful look that made Olivia want to smack them both for having secrets. Then he gripped the back of his neck and peeked at Olivia through his lashes. “Just me.”
Devon? Running for mayor?
She stared at him, then blinked. He was serious.
Not a joke. In fact, this was probably the most serious she’d seen him all day. Funny, since it made her feel like laughing.
“So,” she said, taking a slow breath, “you have to win if I want to preserve that meadow long enough to figure things out?”
“Pretty much.”
There was no longer any “get in, get out,” was there? She was stuck. With Devon. The one man she wanted to avoid.
Olivia sat back down, the wind rushing out of her sails.
She had a feeling this news changed everything, and wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or if it was bad, bad, bad.
Devon and Olivia were both quiet as they headed back to his car. She was doing something on her phone, gnawing on her lower lip, relying on him to prevent her from bumping into lamp posts.
Things looked good with Carrington so far, but it didn’t mean Devon could relax. Not yet. Especially seeing how Olivia had reacted to the news about him running for mayor. She didn’t think much of it, that was obvious.
He stopped beside his car and Olivia came up alongside, studying him quizzically. She kept flicking her gaze across his face as if looking for cracks, hints, anything to prove he was a liar, that he had ulterior motives. That he’d suddenly burst out of his skin and reveal himself as an alien.
“I really can’t see you as mayor.”
“Thanks.” That stung.
“You just don’t…” Her gaze drifted over his chest, then over the rest of him. He tried to resist subtly flexing. He failed. “You’re cavalier, unaffected by everything. Mary Alice called you a daredevil and you’re dressed like you’re going to go paint a house. That doesn’t convey a mayor-like image, Devon.”
She was still studying him.
“And here we were doing so well,” he said drily, opening his car door. “No dead bodies or anything.”
“Devon…” She gave him an unimpressed look, then sighed in exasperation as the wind brushed a strand of her fine blond hair across her cheek. She was disregarding him as well as the insult she’d just dished out, and it lit something inside him, releasing old hurt.
“I’m enough for the people of Blueberry Springs, and dressing up w
on’t change a thing.” It sure hadn’t convinced her family years ago. “People know me, know what I stand for.” He pointed at himself, then her. “They’re my family, not yours. This town accepts kind people even if they’re imperfect.”
Devon turned away, disgusted with the way he’d blown up, acting like he cared about Olivia and her opinion. He hadn’t been enough for her and her family long ago, and having her standing in his town, talking to his friends, all the while looking down her nose at him? He didn’t appreciate it one bit.
He didn’t have to act and look like Olivia Carrington expected him to in order to help his town. He turned back to her. “I have heart, Olivia. Heart.” He thumped his chest.
She blinked twice. He was certain her eyes were welling up.
“Are you…?” She was struggling not to cry, which was wholly unfair. She was the one who’d shot the first arrow.
He didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t taking back his words, but he sure wasn’t going to comfort her, either.
He shoved a hand in his hair and she slowly composed her features, turning brisk and professional even though the quaver in her voice told the truth. “Do you have a hotel recommendation? I don’t see any rated hotels on my travel app.” She waved her phone in the air, squinting at the screen while she sniffed and fanned her eyes. “I think I’m allergic to something.” She sniffed and blinked again. “I can’t get cell service.”
“It’s better on the other side of the street,” he said grudgingly. “The mountains block the signal on this side.”
She slipped her phone into her purse with a sigh so full of resignation he’d expect it from a prisoner of war, not her. Once again, her walls were firmly in place when she looked up.
“We’re obviously going to have to figure out how to work together without killing each other or wrecking each other’s lives in the process.”
He nodded once in acknowledgment, moving around to his side of the car. Then he snapped his head up, attention back on Olivia. “Wait…you’re staying in town?”
