Don’t Go

by Paige, Violet

  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 was 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 Sailor’s Cove. The ones like the Dune Scape. Places that people were sentimental about, caused the most problems.

  “You know what I think, Miss Strickland?” 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,” she retorted.

  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 Strickland, I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut our interview short.”

  I spotted Stefan Hernandez making his way to the table.

  “Sorry I’m late, Aiden.” His dark mustache had a way of twitching when he spoke.

  I stood to shake his hand. “Not a problem, Stefan.” I cleared my throat. “Maybe you know Miss Strickland.”

  She wiggled out of the chair and stood. “Mr. Hernandez, we met at the last city council meeting. Veronica Strickland 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. “I don’t recall getting answers, though.”

  “Nice to see you again.” Stefan nodded.

  She collected her bag and slid it on her shoulder. “I hope you two enjoy your lunch, Aiden.” She winked and hurried to her table at the other end of the restaurant. I watched her tight ass sashay until Stefan interrupted.

  “Talking to the press, already?” Stefan 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.

  Stefan 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. Veronica 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. Stefan 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?” Stefan asked. “I was happy when construction started. Cole hired all local work.”

  “The condos are selling. I think there are only five left. I leave the details to my business partners.”

  “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. It was unnatural to discuss him. Even more so with Stefan Hernandez.

  “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.” I wanted to steer him away from my family’s politics.

  Stefan 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?”

  “Roberta Costas. She’s new, like 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 Thomas’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. Not because of my father.

  “I appreciate that, Stefan.” I had to work from unclenching 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 updates, Stefan. I’m glad we could meet for lunch. It was informative.”

  “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.

  Veronica 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.

  “You’re Aiden Thomas.”

  “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.

  “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-five. You are the topic.”

  “Twenty-five.” I waggled my eyebrows, taunting her. “Hate to disappoint you, but I’ve got to run.”

  “Here’s my card.” Veronica 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. Thomas.” I liked how she said my name. It was as if she purred. 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 to set up an interview. “It was a pleasure seeing you again, Miss Strickland.”

  I brushed past her.

  “You’ll change your mind,” she called behind me.

  If only she knew how rarely that happened.

  Four

  Veronica

  I watched Aiden Thomas 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. Sexy. Masculine. Like fresh mountain air. It was irritating and appealing at the same time.

  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 Hernandez.

  Aiden 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 Thomas 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. My gut told me it was his play. 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 article. 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 to South Padre, but I still didn’t know anyone and I wasn’t the savvy business reporter I had presented myself as. Janet 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. Aiden probably thought I was a disheveled mess. I doubted it would make a difference what I looked like. He wasn’t impressed. He wasn’t going to answer my questions.

  Damn it. Since I met Quinn and Harper this morning I couldn’t shake the feelings that followed me everywhere. The thoughts that plagued me. 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 Cassie. 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.

  They were gone. I had to pick up the pieces and move through each day as if a part of my heart wasn’t missing.

  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 Hernandez 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 anxious 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 Veronica Strickland with the News & Report. I was wondering if any applications are in for the Sailor’s 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 Veronica Strickland with the News & Report.” I showed him my press badge. “Have any applications been submitted for the Sailor’s 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.

  I peeled back the seal. It was all here. The Thomas Corporation had a completed application to develop Sailor’s Cove. I read thr
ough the description of the proposed project. They wanted to build a resort. Impressive.

  I pulled my phone out to take a few pictures of the pages so I could read through the details later.

  “What’s this for?” the intern asked.

  I tucked the papers inside the envelope and placed it back on his desk. “A business article I’m writing.”

  “Cool.” He bobbed his head. “I’m Doug.”

  “Thanks for your help, Doug.” Finally, I had a story to break for Janet.

  The intern reached on the floor and revealed five more packets just like the one I had read. “These came in first, though.”

  Shit. So much for the scoop on who had won the auction. Apparently, they all had their proposals submitted in case they won. Or at least they were all as confident as Aiden Thomas that they would outbid the other.

  I shuffled through each package, jotting down the relevant information on my pad. I knew most of the names, and there were two I assumed were shell companies. No surprises or breaking news here.

  I meekly handed back the last envelop. “Any more?”

  “Nah. That’s all I have.”

  “Well, thanks again.” I turned to leave, but stopped at the door. “If anything else comes in will you give me a call or text me?” I flipped one of my business cards on his desk.

  “Like what?” He turned it over between his fingers.

  “I don’t know. If you see something interesting. Another application for the Sailor’s Cove land. Just anything. Okay?”

  He smiled. “Sure. And now I’ve got your number.”

  I sighed. “That’s not what I meant.”

  He rocked back in his chair, and for a second I thought he might bounce onto the floor.

  “Gotcha covered, girl.”

  “Awesome. Thanks.” I darted out of the office before he misinterpreted everything else I said. He may not be a reliable source, but if another application came in today there was a good chance he would let me know, assuming he could identify what he was reading.

  I had another stop I wanted to make before I started writing my article. I checked the directory in the lobby and found Commissioner Costas’s office. She was a known environmentalist.