I pulled out of the trailer park with little information I could use for a story and a deadline I had to meet by tonight. My stomach growled, and I knew before I could do anything I had to eat lunch.
Chapter Three
Blake
I looked at my watch again. It was Italian, handcrafted after my trip to Milan in the spring. The leather was soft but strong. The hands were thin blades of platinum that kept perfect time with the gears. It didn’t matter where the damn thing came from—he was late. I didn’t like waiting for anyone. Commissioner or CEO—I didn’t wait.
I motioned to the waitress to refill my iced tea. I would give him five more minutes.
“Anything else I can get you while you wait?” she asked. I looked over her shoulder and saw that cute little reporter at the hostess stand. For a split second I wondered if she had followed me here.
“No, I think I’m good.” I smiled.
The reporter followed the hostess through a maze of tables. I watched her navigate on those high heels. Her legs were long and slender. Still gorgeous. Still a reporter.
As they approached she shoved her sunglasses on her head.
“What are you doing here?” She looked startled.
“I have a lunch meeting. What about you, Miss Covington?”
She smiled. “I’m having a lunch. I like this part of the beach. The view is nice here don’t you think?”
“It is. Very pretty. Dining alone?” I asked.
“I am. I’m working on a story. Who is your meeting with?” She was a nosey little thing. Bossy almost. Pushy in a cute, almost sexy way.
I pushed the menu to the edge of the table. “Why? Thinking about writing about my lunch habits?”
“Since I don’t know your name that’s going to be difficult.” She lowered herself in the seat across from me, her eyes set in determination.
“I have a meeting.” I pointed to where she sat. “You’re in someone’s seat.”
“Why don’t I keep you company until he or she shows up? Maybe you could tell me what your involvement is in the Conch Cove development while we wait.” She was presumptuous, but she had good instincts.
I laughed. “I’m afraid that’s not going to happen. I don’t mix business and pleasure.”
She squirmed slightly in her seat. “I thought you said you had a meeting.”
“I do. That is purely business.” I leaned forward. “You are the pleasure part.” The words had the effect I wanted. Her face flushed, and she twisted those pouty lips together.
She ruffled through her bag and withdrew a small pad of paper and a pen. She clicked the end. “I’d like to ask you a few questions. If you purchase the Conch land, what do you plan to do with it?”
It was always the first question any reporter asked me. What was I going to do with the precious piece of land that held so much history or so many memories? I had heard it a hundred times.
What people didn’t seem to understand is that there was never going to be new land for me to harvest. Land didn’t materialize out of thin air, and I hadn’t figured out how to create an island yet. I had to find what was already out there. Sometimes it meant tearing down a hundred year old house. Sometimes it was destroying a rat-infested apartment slum. Some projects people welcomed, but it was the ones like this. The ones like the Dune Escape, places that people were sentimental about, that caused the most problems.
“You know what I think, Miss Covington?” I tested her.
She stopped clicking her pen and looked at me. “What?”
“People are too attached.” My voice remained cool.
“Attached? What do you mean?” The flecks in her hazel eyes darkened.
I continued. “They get caught up in ghosts. Why hold on to something that is old and falling apart when you could make it new and full of value again?” I pointed out the obvious.
“Because some people find value in the past.”
I tapped my fingers on the table. “Too much I think. I have no interest in it.”
“So will you at least admit that you are interested in the land deal? It’s going to be public record soon enough. This is your opportunity to tell the developer’s side of the story—before anyone else gets their spin on it.”
The sunlight from the window caught her hair, turning the strands almost a honey color. It was distracting; she was distracting.
“Look, Miss Covington, I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut our interview short.”
I spotted Luis Gonzalez making his way to the table.
“Sorry I’m late, Blake.” His dark mustache had a way of twitching when he spoke.
I stood to shake his hand. “Not a problem, Luis.” I cleared my throat. “Maybe you know Miss Covington.”
She wiggled out of the chair and stood. “Mr. Gonzalez, we met at the last city council meeting. Alyson Covington from the News & Report.”
I could tell he recognized her. “Of course. You were the one asking all of the rezoning questions.”
“That was me.” She smiled brightly.
“Nice to see you again.” Luis nodded.
She collected her bag and slid it on her shoulder. “I hope you two enjoy your lunch, Blake.” She winked and hurried to her table at the other end of the restaurant. I watched her tight ass sashay until Luis interrupted.
“Talking to the press, already?” Luis eyed me.
I shook my head. “No, she was at the site this morning interviewing some of the residents. We just ran into each other. Do you know her well?” I asked.
Luis picked up the menu I had folded. “I try to make it my business to know as many of the local reporters as I can. It has its benefits, especially around election time.”
I nodded. “I’m sure.”
“She’s new. I’ve only seen her at a few of the council meetings,” he added.
“That’s what I thought.”
“Doesn’t mean she can’t stir up trouble for us.” He smiled as the waitress approached ready to take his drink order.
“You think there is going to be a lot of local resistance to the project?” I took a sip of the tea refill.
“I’ll have an iced tea and a grilled steak sandwich,” he instructed our server.
I waited for him to answer my question. I might have underestimated our timeline for construction if we had red tape to wade through.
“The only real resistance is going to be at the park. I doubt the rest of the island is going to be in the middle of it, but all it takes is one attention grabbing story to get everyone riled up.” He looked over my shoulder.
I turned to follow his stare. Alyson was typing something into her phone. “And you think someone like her could be the problem?”
“It only takes one. From what I know about her she’s a go-getter. Had plenty of rezoning questions for me.” He looked outside at the shoreline. “You know I’m up for re-election in the fall.”
I was prepared for the conversation to take this turn. “How many terms have you served now? Is it five?” I pretended not to know.
“Sure is.”
I smiled. “Well, I know the good citizens of South Padre would be happy to see you serve a sixth. How is your campaign going?”
“I try not to get weighed down with the campaign numbers, but it never hurts to add to your list of supporters.”
“No, it sure doesn’t,” I agreed.
There were lines I wouldn’t cross. I wasn’t about to do anything illegal that would risk my company or this deal, but there were blurry lines I ran into every once in a while. This was one of those times. Luis and I would navigate the unspoken terms of our arrangement.
“The more time I spend in South Padre, the more interested I am in the politics here.”
“How are things going over at the condo deal?” Luis asked. “I was happy when construction started. Caleb hired all local work.”
“The condos are selling. I think there are only five left. I leave the details to my business partners.”
<
br /> “You know your dad was a friend of mine. He never wanted to sell that place.”
I gripped the knife in my right hand when the server placed our plates on the table. The mention of my father irritated me.
“I didn’t sell it.” I forced a smile. I hated unexpected stories about my father.
The commissioner chuckled. “Splitting hairs don’t you think?”
“The land is still in the family. I made a smart business decision, which is exactly what I plan to do with the trailer park.” I lowered my voice. “I need to know what kind of opposition I’m facing if I build the resort.”
Luis took a bite of his sandwich. “There’s only one commissioner who is anti-development. She always causes problems, but she never wins. It would make things a lot smoother if you could get her to go along with the idea.”
“Which commissioner?”
“Felicia Fernandez. She’s new, about as green as your reporter friend.” He laughed.
“What’s her story? Why is she anti-development?” I didn’t know the ins and outs of all Padre’s politics. I had properties all over the world. I couldn’t get bogged down in political spider webs everywhere I did business.
“She’s an environmentalist.”
I groaned. They were my worst nightmare. A political environmentalist who was anti-development would create a firestorm of problems.
“Anyone else I should be concerned about?” I inquired.
“Nah. If you land this deal you’ll have enough support from the voters. I can’t let Mitchell Davenport’s son down.” He meant it as a compliment, but my skin crawled and my stomach knotted. I didn’t want any damn favors because of my last name.
“I appreciate that, Luis.” I had to work from clenching my jaw.
The waitress appeared with the check. I snatched it before the commissioner could grab it.
“Lunch is on me,” I offered.
He wiped his face, taking extra time with his mustache. “Well, thank you.”
“Thanks for the info, Luis. I’m glad we could meet for lunch.”
“Sure thing. I’m looking forward to your project getting started. Jobs for Padre are always a good thing in my opinion.” He slapped me on the back as we stood from the table. “I’ll do whatever I can to help you get this pushed through the council. You have my word.”
I smiled. It was exactly what I was counting on. “I’ll be in touch.” I watched as he walked out of the restaurant. I sat to wait for the waitress to pick up the bill with my credit card.
My eyes widened.
“You’re Blake Davenport.” Alyson dropped into the commissioner’s empty chair, looking pleased. The tips of her cheekbones were flushed pink. Her eyes almost had a glimmer. I saw more hints of green this time.
“And how did you figure that out over lunch?”
“It wasn’t that hard.” She waved her smart phone in front of me. “Lunching with the longest sitting South Padre commissioner? What did you talk about?”
“Our golf game.” I lied.
“Come on. You can’t seriously think I would believe that.” She laid the phone on the table. I noticed her long nails.
“I don’t know what you believe, but I have another meeting I need to attend.” I thanked the server for the check and signed the receipt.
“I read about you,” she spouted.
“Find something interesting?”
“Mostly just basic info.”
“Sounds boring.” I didn’t know what she had unearthed over the course of lunch. I tried to keep my eyes off her lips when she talked. It was hard not to imagine them wrapped around my cock.
“No, not at all. You’ve accomplished so much for someone who’s twenty-eight.”
“As opposed to someone’s who’s twenty-two? Did I get that right?” I didn’t know why I kept baiting her—only I liked the way she looked when I got under her skin. It was fucking sexy as hell.
“My age is not a part of this conversation, but it’s twenty-four. You are the topic.”
“Twenty-four.” I waggled my eyebrows at her. “Hate to disappoint you, but I’ve got to run.”
“Here’s my card.” Alyson shoved a square business card into my hand as I tried to leave the table. “At least consider giving me an interview. You could get ahead of the pushback the locals are going to give you.”
“I don’t get pushback.”
“This isn’t like other places, Mr. Davenport.” I liked how she said my name. This girl was a spitfire. She didn’t seem the least bit intimidated by who I was.
I tucked the card into my wallet. I had no intention of calling her. “It was a pleasure seeing you again, Miss Covington.”
I brushed past her.
“You’ll change your mind,” she called behind me.
If only she knew how rarely that happened.
Chapter Four
Alyson
I watched Blake Davenport walk away for the second time today. Everything about him was cool and certain. While I was turning into a puddle in the Texas heat, he looked unfazed in his crisp white shirt. I tried to ignore how he smelled when he passed by. Even his cologne was like confidence in a bottle.
My quick online search had brought up several business profile articles on the young developer. I skimmed them quickly over lunch while keeping an eye on his meeting with Commissioner Gonzalez.
He was named one of the top young entrepreneurs. Economists predicted his net worth would exceed a billion dollars by the time he hit his thirtieth birthday if he continued to acquire deals at his current rate.
His company, The Davenport Corporation, was the fastest-growing land investment company in Texas. I kicked myself for not knowing who he was. It was only another piece of evidence that I was reporting in the wrong field.
He bought and sold properties all over the country. He didn’t seem particular whether he acquired an abandoned school or an urban sky scraper. He was in the business of making money.
His headshot was the same in each article. He wore a tailored suit, a smile most models would pay for, and a look in his eyes that said he was on his way to conquering the world.
I didn’t have much to go on, but I knew he was involved in the development deal. I could sense it. The problem was I only had four hours until my deadline and had nothing to add to my story.
I walked into the parking lot not sure where I was going to find more for this story. Ever since I took the News & Report job I felt as if I were constantly trying to play keep up.
It had been three months since I moved here, but I still didn’t know anyone and I wasn’t the savvy business reporter I had presented myself as. Christine knew it, but she hadn’t publicly called me out on it. She was giving me a chance to prove myself. At least I had convinced myself that was the case.
Today could be my last day. I needed to produce an article.
I leaned my makeshift bun against the headrest. The wind had whipped apart every hairstyle I tried today. Blake probably thought I was a disheveled mess. I doubted it would make a difference. He wasn’t going to answer my questions.
The thoughts had been there since I met Bridget and Jennilee this morning. The ones that crept into the back of my eyes, burning images like a movie playing on a screen I couldn’t stop watching. I wished I could pick up the phone and call Kendal. She would tell me something that would make me laugh. Instead I was sitting in a hot as hell car with no clue where my sister and niece were.
I turned up the radio to block out the memories. The country music in Texas was starting to grow on me. It had a different sound. Sometimes I felt as if the guys singing were sitting next to me.
The air conditioner was blowing at the highest fan speed. God, what was I doing here?
I noticed Commissioner Gonzalez was on his phone. His face red from the heat. City Hall would have to be my next stop. All of the development applications would pass through there first. I hoped whichever company won the land bid at the private auction would be anxio
us to start the development paperwork.
I pointed my car toward City Hall, and parked near the entrance.
I raced up the front steps after looking at my watch. Most of the City Hall staff would still be at lunch.
I retrieved my press pass. “Hi, I’m Alyson Covington with the News & Report. I was wondering if any applications are in for the Conch Cove development.”
The woman behind the reception desk pulled the glasses from her nose. “That’s in the development office. Down the hall on the right.”
“Thank you.” I hurried to the office a few doors down.
I was met by a guy who looked as if he were my age, maybe younger. They apparently staffed City Hall with college interns for the summer. He was typing on his phone.
“Excuse me?” I spoke up for attention.
I startled him. “Oh, hey. Yeah.”
“I’m Alyson Covington with the News & Report.” I showed him my press badge. “Have any applications been submitted for the Conch Cove project?”
He stared at me blankly.
“Don’t the applications come through this office?” I asked impatiently.
“I guess so. I don’t know. They hand me stuff and then I file it.” He shrugged.
I realized I had stumbled upon an unusual opportunity. The development office was empty except for this inexperienced intern.
“Oh, that’s cool. I guess they give you a lot of responsibility.” It was a weak compliment.
He straightened his back slightly. I noticed his polo shirt was wrinkled from his chest to his waist. This kid didn’t take much seriously.
“Yeah, it’s an important gig.”
I peeked over the front of his desk. “Would you mind checking for me then on the applications? It would be really great if you could help me out.”
His desk was littered with stacks of folders and paper. I didn’t know if he could find anything there.
He lifted a manila packet on top. “This one just came in.” He handed it to me.
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