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Chapter 6
Ahundred curses blistered Hunter’s brain. He pulled into a parking spot on Starfish Avenue near the Bliss Cove town hall. A three-person band was playing in the gazebo on the square, and the cheerful strains of a folk song drifted in the air.
It was a direct contrast to the heaviness in his chest. The anvil-like feeling had started the instant he realized honey-and-sunlight Aria was the Mariposa shop owner most opposed to Imperial’s terms.
Of all the—
Shaking his head, he crossed the flagstone path of the square. The April sun burned through his suit jacket. It shouldn’t matter who Aria was. It wasn’t as if he’d thought he’d see her again. Last night had been a random encounter, one that had no bearing on his reasons for being in Bliss Cove in the first place.
He just had to stop thinking about her with her wet dress plastered to her body and the little stud in her nose glittering in the light. He had to banish the memory of how soft her lips had felt, how she’d tasted like cherries, and how perfectly her curves had fit right up against his chest. He had to ignore the fact that he’d dreamt about her last night.
All of that would only interfere in the negotiation he intended to win.
He needed twelve votes from the fifteen Mariposa owners. He’d already made the mistake of letting Aria get to him. When he was talking to her at the café, he’d forgotten every one of his long-ingrained business tactics.Strategy, timing, planning, a level-headed approach.
Instead, he’d struggled not to be distracted by the fire in her blue eyes and his intense urge to kiss her again. He’d let his frustration get the better of him. That never happened.
Not until now. Not untilher.
Pushing an image of her out of his head, he walked into the town hall. The tile-floored front room had a curved reception/visitor’s desk laden with brochures and flyers of local events. An older woman sat behind the desk, her attention on a novel displaying a half-naked couple on the cover.
Hunter stopped and cleared his throat.
“Hello. Can I help you?” She rose to her feet and adjusted her glasses. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before. I’d remember. Are you new to town?”
“I’m here on business. I need to look into the city health codes. Is there someone I can talk to?”
“Fred’s not going to be in until ten. Dentist appointment.” She shuffled out from behind the desk. “You’re welcome to look through the code books if you’d like, though. Come with me.”
He followed her to a small room where shelves overflowed with books, binders, and rolled-up plans and maps. He sighed. If this was the town’s filing system, there was no chance they’d digitize their records any time soon.
After the woman pointed out the ordinances and regulations shelf, Hunter spent a frustrating hour looking for evidence of a violation. Not a single rule mentioned cats. Nothing forbade keeping animals in an eating establishment. As long as the food service area remained animal-free, the town didn’t seem to care that Aria was serving sandwiches and coffee amidst hairballs and cat fur.
Grabbing his briefcase, he strode back into the main hall and headed for the doors.
“Don’t forget to join us for the Artichoke Festival this weekend!” The receptionist waved a flyer at him. “Food, music, games, all sorts of things. The mayor is going to judge the pie contest.”
Though Hunter had no interest in either artichokes or festivals, he skimmed the flyer. On the back was a list of participating local vendors.
Including theMeow and Then Cat Café.
He thanked the receptionist and stepped back outside. As he returned to his car, he recalled one of his most important business tactics.
Know your enemy.
And who was the enemy? Anyone who was an opposing force. Especially at a negotiating table.
In all of his property dealings, he made it a point to understand his competitors’ strengths, weaknesses, and especially their motivations. He needed to know why they wanted what they wanted so he could formulate an effective attack strategy. He needed to understand as much as he could about them.
He tucked the flyer into his breast pocket. Every small town had at leastone personwho was an encyclopedia of town gossip. And if his instincts were right…
* * *
“Mr. Armstrong, how lovely to see you!” Mrs. Higgins, innkeeper of the Outside Inn, hurried across the dining room to greet him.
A spry, white-haired older lady with twinkling blue eyes, she’d informed Hunter when he first arrived that she’d lived in Bliss Cove for forty years, had twice won the town’s Best Tulip competition, considered NSYNC far superior to the Backstreet Boys, and would forever be #teampeeta.
“You’re just in time for tea. I serve it every afternoon at four.” She spread her hand out to indicate the round tables, all of which were empty aside from dingy chintz tablecloths and a variety of ceramic teapots. “I have a chocolate fudge cake and sugar cookies, and I’m serving a special oolong blend tea. I do hope you’ll join us.”
