“You bitch,” the voice on the other end spat.
I nearly coughed into the receiver. “Excuse me?”
“If you think you can cherry pick which businesses you issue code violations to, you’ve got another thing coming—”
“Ma’am,” I said, figuring that the use of ma’am would offend her. “Feel free to call back when you’ve calmed down.”
I hung up. Luckily, there was a loophole that we didn’t have to stay on the line if someone was personally attacking us. And I was pretty damn sure that starting a conversation by calling me a bitch? Yeah, that was grounds for hanging up.
The phone rang again one minute later. I groaned and dropped my head onto my desk.
My assistant Laura poked her head into my office, cringing. “It’s been ringing nonstop for like, twenty minutes,” she said. She cowered behind the door frame, only peeking in from her chin up. Almost like she was afraid to tell me that. Why in the hell was she afraid to talk to me? I was a good boss. A fair boss. Sure, I was firm with her, but nice. I said hello to her each morning. Asked how her weekend was every Monday even though I didn’t really care about her answer. Hell, I even put out the good candy in the communal candy bowl. What else did I need to do to not be seen as such a hard-ass around here?
For starters, you could not shut down your ex-boyfriend’s business out of spite. I silenced the voice in my head. That was Chloe’s voice in there… not my own. My baby sister was always my guiding light. My conscience. She always chose to do the kind thing… the sweet thing—not always the right thing or the by-the-book thing. But the nice thing.
I gave Laura a smile, or the best smile I could muster. “Sorry about that. It might be like this for a few days until this Beefcakes thing dies down.”
“Oh! Have you been there yet? Their sugar-free protein cupcakes are to die for.”
I glared at her. Oh, yeah. Maybe that’s why she’s afraid of me. I don’t hide my resting bitch face well. Never have. “Could you listen to my voicemail messages and take notes for me? Have all my calls routed to you first and send anyone who is calling about Beefcakes to my voicemail. Put all other business through to me.” Unfortunately, I couldn’t just delete Beefcakes voice messages. Someone in the town manager’s office needed to listen to all voice mails received.
But it didn’t have to be me personally.
Laura nodded, and as she turned to leave, she nearly bumped into my father. “Oh!” she said. “Mayor Dyker, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t you worry, Laura.” He gave her a friendly smile and a gentle pat on the shoulder before she scurried back to her desk to answer the next call coming in.
Dad stepped into my office. Shutting the door, he asked, “What the hell is going on here?”
“What do you mean?” I blinked innocently as my phone rang again.
He gestured to the phone. “That! How can any of us get any work done with the phones in here ringing off the hook?”
The ringing stopped, finally going to voicemail. “Well I don’t know why my ringing phone would be affecting anyone’s work but mine and Laura’s.”
“Because,” Dad said. “They’re not just calling you. They’re calling anyone here at the city offices whose number is on the website. And all of our emails have been flooded with appeals about something called Beefcakes. What the hell is Beefcakes?”
I almost laughed. I loved my dad, and he loved this town, but he had a strict routine that he didn’t stray too far from. He had his breakfast spot. He had his favorite French restaurant and his favorite Italian restaurant and where he got his coffee, and that was about it. He and my mom didn’t leave the house all that much… because when they did venture out, he usually got flooded by constituents who needed things.
“I’m serious, Elaina.”
Uh-oh. He didn’t call me Lovebug. He was serious.
I moved to stand as my phone rang. Again. I sighed. “Laura! Reroute all calls to you!”
“I’m trying!” she squeaked from beyond my closed door.
“Dad,” I said calmly. “This will all blow over soon. It’s for a good reason, though. Did you know they were serving food while half-naked over at Beefcakes?”
Dad cringed. “The Evans boys?”
I nodded. “You can’t tell me that’s sanitary.”
Dad pushed his glasses higher onto his nose, thinking for a moment. “I suppose you’re right. But is it an actual violation?”
Well, that was unfortunately a gray area. I swallowed, hoping Dad didn’t call my bluff. I was pretty sure the calls and emails would slow down after a day or two. “It’s at the discretion of the inspector.” The inspector who thankfully owed me a favor.
Dad studied me carefully. “I know you and Neil Evans have history,” he said. “You wouldn’t be letting that interfere with this, would you?”
“Of course not,” I answered quickly. Maybe too quickly. But if my dad noticed, he didn’t let it show.
Dad nodded and reached for my door, turning and pointing at me before he exited. “If this doesn’t blow over quickly, we need to find a different solution. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
He left, closing the door behind him, and I plopped back down into my chair to immediately pull up the town website. I removed everyone’s email and phone number, except for mine, from the site… just for this week so that Dad wouldn’t continue to get complaints about Beefcakes. Even if it didn’t die down in the next day, I could make it seem like it had. Besides, the mayor had more important things to do than deal with a silly bakery catering to twenty-something bachelorettes.
I reached into my bag to grab my yogurt and almonds… I could eat and work at the same time. But my hand hit something different. Parchment paper?
I pulled out a pastry bag with a croissant tucked inside and a sticky note adhered to the front.
Lainey,
You forget that I know you. 10 years may have past, but I still know you better than you may know yourself at times. For example, I know that just as you sit down at your desk, you’re going to pull out of this designer purse vanilla yogurt and roasted almonds… even though honey roasted are your favorite, you probably chose the regular unsalted roasted almonds because they’re healthier. Maybe it’s time to switch up your patterns a bit? Live a little. Enjoy the sweeter things in life.
Love, Neil.
The flakey croissant had my mouth watering. I wanted to take a bite. Desperately. Suddenly, I knew that my yogurt (which up until now had been satisfying enough) would taste like sand in my mouth.
Just like my barren sex life hadn’t been a problem up until Neil arrived back in town. But now? His body was all I could think about… all I could remember.
I shoved the croissant to the side of my desk and tore open my package of almonds instead, willing myself to believe they were just as delicious. I couldn’t let him get to me. Not now. Not ever again.
The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Except for that damn croissant calling to me from the edge of my desk.
I glanced over my proposal for the old Maple Grove Mill redevelopment and a lump lodged in my throat. This could work. I just needed the oncology center and various other specialists to get on board with the help. I had called a rehab center and a few cardiothoracic surgeons outside of Boston. But that damn Oncology Center of New England had yet to return my calls.
It was actually Linda Evans who had inspired this idea. A satellite outreach clinic for patients. If Maple Grove could get the grant money to renovate the building, the various hospitals and specialty medical centers around New England could donate the equipment and professionals needed to make this an amazing medical facility.
There was a knock at my door, and when I looked up, Matteo was standing there, a stack of papers in hand. He held it up, shaking them at me. “Elaina,” he said. “This is an amazing idea.”
I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. “Really?”
“Really. Some of our more
fiscally conservative council members might take issue with the fact that it won’t create much revenue for a while though.”
I held up my finger, indicating for him to wait a moment as I dug through my paperwork and grabbed a crude sketch I had done with notes scribbled all over it. “I thought of that already,” I said. “But I wanted to talk to you first… pick your designer architect brain and see if it was a viable option before I wrote it into the proposal.”
I waved him over to my desk and spread out the plans. “One of the best things about that old mill is how massive it is. With that much square footage, we could use half of the Mill as the medical outreach clinic I proposed earlier. That entire cost would be handled by grants and the various contributing hospitals. But the other half…” I indicated to the bottom floors on the sketch, showing Matteo. “These two floors could be an event center for conferences. Of the fifty thousand square foot building, about twenty-five thousand square feet would be a revenue stream for the city. The hospitals who contribute to the building would get first dibs on dates for their own medical conferences and then, the rest of the time, we could rent the space out. Think of it… we could have our own little comic con! We could host craft fairs and art exhibits for those who come to the artists’ residency center. It would bring business to our little town—visitors would stay at the Maple Grove Inn, eat at our diners, have coffee at—”
“Beefcakes?” he interrupted.
The sudden reminder of Neil had my face burning, and he gave me a humoring smile. “Sorry. We’ve all been getting calls nonstop since lunchtime.”
I exhaled. “Yes. Fine. Even Beefcakes would benefit from this. My point is, converting the mill to a convention center and healthcare outreach clinic will help our town. Not create competition within it.”
Matteo nodded. “You’re right. It’s a freaking genius idea. And the clinic will be a success because Maple Grove is in the center of the Lakes Region towns. What do you need from me to make this happen?”
I glanced up at him. “Does that mean you’ll help me?”
He smiled softly. “Of course, I’ll help you. This is better than any stupid shopping center.” He tapped his index finger on my crude drawing. “You’re probably looking at three million in renovations for a conference center of that size,” he said. “That’s not including the cost of the site, which is the top priority since the seller is getting antsy.”
I nodded. “He agreed to hold off on the sale of the mill until I pitch to the council, but once that happens, we won’t have a lot of time.” I gulped. And unfortunately, grant money can take a while to come in. You have to write letters, submit proposals, then maybe get approved. Maybe not. I doubt they would be willing to wait that long unless I could get a few hundred thousand dollars… fast. Because as much as I wanted the mill for our town, Maple Grove did not have five hundred thousand superfluous dollars just laying around.
“The three medical businesses you’re going to want to get are physical therapy – because that will encompass all kinds of ailments and patients – cardiology, and oncology. That would cover the largest groups of patients that tend to need care after treatments and surgeries. And lots of people have trouble making the drive down to Boston for those follow up appointments,” Matt said. I nodded, knowing all of this already, but appreciating his help. “Get a few folks from the community to come to your meeting and tell their stories. It’ll tug at the council’s heartstrings if they see their constituents discuss how meaningful this will be.”
“That’s a great idea,” I said, scribbling a note on a post-it.
“In the meantime,” Matt said, “can I take these home with me? I’ll sketch up some fancy new plans for you before the meeting.”
My eyes went wide. “You would do that?”
His smile faded at the corners. “My dad died of a massive coronary,” he said quietly. “We got him to the hospital in time, but there were no cardiac surgeons there, and we had to wait for them to come from Boston.” Matt sighed. “He might have passed away anyway in surgery. We’ll never know. But his chances would have been better if there was a heart surgeon here on call.”
I placed my hand on his and squeezed. “I’m so sorry, Matt.”
He gave me a friendly smile and pulled his hand free. “Thanks. I believe in this idea, Elaina. I’ll do everything I can to see it come to life.”
He exited my office and tears filled my eyes. This was it. This was the idea. I could feel it in my gut. I picked up my office phone and dialed Linda’s phone number. When she didn’t answer, I left her a quick message stating that I’d like to take her out for a cup of coffee.
While I was still holding my cell phone, it rang, and I nearly jumped out of my seat. I didn’t usually get many calls on my personal cell. Other than my parents and my sister… work was my life. At least, ever since the breakup. I answered it cautiously, not recognizing the number. A small part of me fully expected it to be another crazed fan of Beefcakes ready to scream at me for the violation. Even though the more rational part of my brain knew that there was no way for anyone to get my personal cell phone number… you never know. “Hello?”
“Lainey.” His familiar voice only had to say the one word… my name. No, my old name. I don’t know how he did it. How he managed to make both my blood and my sex simmer with warring emotions. Like a two-headed beast, I couldn’t keep my emotions in check around Neil. Was I angry or thrilled every time we were near each other? Did I hate him? Or did I want to make out with him? Ugh. Anger. Anger and hate. Those are the emotions I’m sticking with.
“What do you want, Neil?”
“I want you to hear me win your own father over.”
I blinked, pulling the phone away from my ear to look at it as if that could answer my unasked question. “What?”
There was a click and then a slight rustling when I heard my dad’s voice on the phone. “Neil, Liam. It’s nice to see you boys again. It’s been a while.”
“Nice to see you, sir,” I heard Neil say even though the voices were significantly quieter than before.
“No,” I whispered and shoved my chair back, standing.
“Liam and I just wanted to meet up to clear the air about this violation.”
“No, no, no,” I whispered to myself as I pushed out my door, rushing down the hall to my dad’s office. On the phone, Liam and Neil started chatting about their stupid, shirtless operation.
I walked briskly down the hall, not stopping to wave or say hello as I passed my coworkers.
“Well,” I heard my dad say, “We should probably get Elaina in here for this meeting, too.”
“Yes, of course,” Neil said. “We will happily circle back to include her. But our last conversation felt… personal. A little unprofessional, honestly.”
I froze mid-step. That bastard. He was going behind my back… above my head to tattle on me to my father?
Dad made his thoughtful hmm sound. “I was afraid of that. I know things didn’t end well with you two.”
“No, sir, they didn’t – and that’s on me. But Beefcakes hasn’t violated any health codes by serving its patrons shirtless. Here is Section VI as it is written, and here is the signed inspection we received two weeks ago where we got an A.” Neil cleared his throat, his voice getting louder. “For some reason… the inspector changed his mind after giving us this A rating.” The implication behind his words ‘for some reason’ hung heavily.
I forced my feet to move faster, all but running down the hall. My ballet flats flicked off of my heels, and I had to curl my toes to keep my shoes on while I ran.
“Hey, Larissa,” I waved to Dad’s assistant, not stopping to listen as she said something behind me. I burst into his office, gulping as I entered the room. “I’m here!” I said. “It is not personal, it’s business—”
But the room was empty. What the hell?
Larissa ran in behind me. “I tried to tell you. He isn’t here.”
I spun wildly to face her
. “Where are they?”
Her brows tilted in confusion. “They?”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “Him. His meeting. Where is he having his meeting?”
“Oh. I’m actually not sure.”
I shoved past her and ran downstairs to my car, listening closely as they chatted.
“C’mon,” I muttered to myself. “Give me something. Anything to help me figure out where you sneaky bastards are.” In the background, I could hear plates. Dishes. Someone took a sip of something...Neil, Liam, or my Dad.
Based on the conversation, it seemed Liam was showing my father their numbers for the last three weeks. The growth. The insanely large number of out of town patrons they’d had. He even had numbers from the Maple Grove Inn and several other businesses that had experienced growth as a result of their stupid, new endeavor.
“Hey, handsome,” a sultry voice said, echoing in the phone. It came out of nowhere and my spine went stiff. “Want a lap dance?”
My head fell to the steering wheel. Of course.
I started my car and peeled out of the parking lot, heading toward the strip club. Because where the hell else would Neil Evans go at a time like this?
I smiled at the scantily clad woman coming onto me and shook my head. “No, thank you. But we will take an order of the wings to share. And…” I pointed at Mr. Dyker. “Would you like a burger? It’s on us, of course.”
Mr. Dyker crossed his arms. He was a tough nut to crack. But I had no doubt he would be fair. Reasonable. “I don’t need a burger. Missy is cooking pot roast tonight, but thank you.” He sighed once she left and folded his arms. “You have a few minutes to get to the point. I don’t like being seen in a place like this, and I’m pretty sure my constituents wouldn’t like it either.”
Liam nodded. “We understand, sir. That’s why we arranged to have you brought in through the back door and set up in this private area. No one will have seen you in here except those who are working and, of course, us.”
“But we brought you here for a reason.” I pointed at Angel who was exiting the private room with our order for wings. “This club is technically in the Maple Grove city limits. And they serve food here. With the servers in lingerie…”
Beefcakes Page 9
