“Randy, with all due respect, we’ve been trying to keep big developers out. We talked about a lot of solutions, not Stone.”
Siena felt her face get hot. Aunt Libby’s persona in public was usually smooth as silk. Right now, she looked like a volcano about to blow. The formal part of the event was clearly over. This was not on the program.
“Oh boy, Libby’s going to be a firework finale up there,” Cole said. He seemed to be inching closer. Siena stayed by his side.
But it was Aunt Goldie to the rescue. She ran up to the stage, dragging Drake Denver behind her. She stood between Aunt Libby and the mic.
Aunt Libby clearly had no clue that her shock and conversation were still the main attraction. The conversation continued. It was animated by Libby waving her hands to make some sort of point, but at least her words were no longer broadcast to the entire town. Aunt Goldie started clapping, and the crowd followed her lead.
“Great news, okay, so one more time, Burgundy Four is going to give an encore.”
Siena kept her eyes on Aunt Libby, whose attention was on something that caught her eye behind the gazebo. Libby pointed and yelled. “You, are you kidding me?”
“Start, start!” Goldie said to Drake, who did what Goldie said like he was used to the role. Burgundy Four started playing the opening chords to their hit, “Summer Smile.” The song was allegedly written about Goldie. The crowd forgot about Libby and her confusing outburst. They were clapping for the song. The show, behind the stage, continued.
“Come on, let’s go,” Siena said to Cole. “We need to see what’s happening.”
They wormed their way around the audience and back behind the Dean Tucker Gazebo.
They stood there and watched the much more interesting performance.
“You are kidding me, you slimy son of a—” Aunt Libby was about to say something when Aunt Hope stepped in front of her.
“Calm down,” Hope said.
Randy Barton stepped in next to Stone and said angrily, “You, you rich people, are all the same. Do you think I can afford to rebuild? My dad didn’t have insurance. We were screwed when that tornado hit, and along with losing my dad, we got nothing from it. Rebuild? No chance. You get it, Libby?”
“I’m sorry, Randy, but give me a chance. I could maybe get Whole Foods or Fresh Market or something to sweeten the pot for you.”
“We signed a deal with Stone, it’s twice what any of them would offer.”
“You can’t just let a fox into the hen house, Randy. Let me figure something out so that you don’t need to be in bed with the big corporations.”
But Randy Barton was done with negotiations. He’d gotten his money and was ready to get out.
“I’m out of here. I left this stupid place for a reason.” With that, Randy Barton stormed off.
Cole whispered into Siena’s ear. “It’s lucky Alison’s from a different branch of the Barton family tree.”
“No kidding, that was not pleasant,” Siena muttered.
They inched closer, and now Aunt Libby was toe to toe with billionaire Stone Stirling. Randy Barton was out of the picture. It was Stone Stirling that had Libby’s full attention.
“What kind of vulture swoops in after a tornado and takes advantage of people?”
“Excuse me?” Stone put both his hands up like it was a stick-up.
“You heard me. You know we don’t want you here.”
“I paid the Barton family, and everyone in it, three times the value, not two. I did it because they had no insurance. I could have gotten the land for pennies.”
“So now what? You’re the big hero,” Libby snarked.
“Does Irish Hills need a grocery store?” Stone asked coolly.
“Yes, of course.”
“Well, I’ll get you one.”
