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Brooke shrugged. “Not part of the debate, I guess.”
“Who won?”
“Neither. Grant broke up the fight before either one of them landed a punch. The chief was having dinner there too, so he took them both in.” Brooke sipped the coffee. “You can read all the deets in tomorrow’s paper.”
Aria dropped a teabag into her mug. “Clearly the answer is regular fries.”
Her friend lifted an eyebrow. “Excuse me? Clearly the answer is crinkle-cut.”
“Crinkle-cut fries are way too machine-made.”
“The crinkles make them perfect for dunking in ketchup.”
Aria shook her head in mock despair. “After ten years, we can’t be best friends anymore.”
“You’d better be my best friend if you want this.” Brooke pulled a thick, bound report with a red cover from her bag. The title readImperial Properties’ Oceanview Plaza – A Vertical Mixed-Use Development Proposal.
Aria’s insides tightened. “Where did you get this?”
“From a contact, but it’s not a secret. They revised the proposal a lot from the last one, hoping that the changes will get more people on board.”
Aria flipped through the report. There were plans for retail and office space, luxury condos—condos?—and a multi-level parking structure. Architectural drawings showed pyramidal and square brick-and-glass buildings overlooking the beach and a concrete “plaza” lined with stone benches.
“What has the town council said?” she asked.
“As long as it fits all zoning and planning codes, they’re leaving the decision to the Mariposa owners.” Brooke picked up her coffee and stood. “That’s the council’s official statement, at least. Mayor Bowers told me privately she thinks the design isugly as sin.But she’s kind of stuck because the town council hasn’t budgeted anything to fix up Mariposa for well over thirty years. Now it’s almost too late.”
Almost.
If there was one lesson that had stuck in Aria’s mind over the past year, it was thatalmostdidn’t mean something was done.
Almostmeant a narrow escape—but an escape nonetheless.
Almostmeant being on the edge—but not over it.
Almostmeant there was still a chance.
“I gotta get to the office.” Brooke slung her bag over her shoulder. “You can keep that if you want. Mousehole Friday night?”
“I’ll be there.”
After her friend had gone, Aria glanced at the contact information on the Imperial Properties’ report. She pulled up an email window on her old laptop and typed a message to Bruce Sinclair, CEO.
Dear Mr. Sinclair,
Prior to the forthcoming vote at the Mariposa Business Association meeting, I would like to inform you that I decline to sell my building to Imperial Properties.
Sincerely,
Ariadne Prescott, Owner
Meow and Then Cat Café
Send.
There. At least they’d know her decision was final.
Picking up several pieces of colored chalk, she climbed a stepladder to reach the chalkboard hanging on the brick wall behind the counter. She erased the list of yesterday’s baked goods offerings and began writing down the treats she’d picked up from Sugar Joy that morning.
