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“Of course not.” Wariness darkened Aria’s expression before she lifted her chin in defiance. “But I won’t find myself in that position because despite your arrogance, I’m here to tell you that youwon’tconvince my fellow business owners to sell. I’ve known those people much longer than you have, and I sure as hell know thembetter. They believe in Mariposa Street as much as I do, and they’re not going to see it torn down to make way for a bunch of stupid high-rise condos and offices.”
“What do they want done in that district, then?” Hunter crossed his arms, his shoulders tensing. “What doyouwant? The numbers speak for themselves. Mariposa Street has been in a steady decline for years. The vacancy rate is at an all-time high. You’re the first person to have opened a new business there in well over two years. The thread is about to snap, sooner rather than later, and then what? What’s your plan for turning things around?”
“Do you seriously think I’d tell you the first thing about my plan?” she replied crisply. “Everyone knows you don’t show your hand to your opponent. You may think I’m a naïve small-town girl who doesn’t know the first thing about property development, but I’ve done my research. You’ve built multi-billion-dollar centers in cities like New York and Tokyo. The Oceanview Plaza would be Bliss Cove’s first andonlyhigh-rise complex, but it’s easily one of Imperial’s smallest developments. So why did our little town catch your eye, Mr. Armstrong?”
Great question.
When he opened his mouth to respond, she shot her hand out, palm up.
“On second thought, don’t answer that. I’m not interested in a bunch of bullshit about economic growth and increased revenue. The fact is that yourplazawill destroy an integral part of this town’s history and create an industrial blight leading to pollution, gridlock, congestion, and a terrible environmental impact on the redwood forest and beaches. Would you like to ask me again why I will never sell my building to you?”
“Go, girl!” shouted a gray-haired man wearing a bandana and torn T-shirt. He rose to his feet and applauded along with several other customers.
“What’s the alternative?” called a woman standing near the counter. “I’m sick of paying taxes for that part of town. It’s brought us nothing but trouble for over thirty years. I say it’s about time we get rid of it and do something useful there.”
“Hear hear!” Another man clapped in support.
“What in the world is all this noise?” A woman in her sixties flew out from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishrag. With short blond hair and elegant features, she was an older version of Aria.
Callie hurried forward. “Mom, don’t get upset.”
“It’s just a minor debate.” Rory shot Aria a warning look.
“The town hall is a far better place for debates.” Mrs. Prescott’s glare swept over both Aria and Hunter. “Rory, grab that tray of fresh croissants from the back. Complimentary coffee and a croissant for everyone. I apologize for the disturbance.”
Murmurs of surprised pleasure rose from the customers as they settled back down at their tables. Callie and Rory began quickly distributing the coffee and pastries.
Mrs. Prescott approached Aria, concern darkening her eyes. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” Aria sighed and indicated Hunter with a grudging thrust of her chin. “Mom, this is Hunter Armstrong from Imperial Properties. Mr. Armstrong, my mother Eleanor Prescott.”
“Hunter, please.” He extended a hand, somewhat relieved when Eleanor chose to shake his hand rather than slap him.
“Mr. Armstrong and I are on opposing sides of an issue,” Aria added, tossing him a scowl that was the visual equivalent of a slap.
“So I see.” Eleanor flung the dishtowel over her shoulder and flicked her gaze from Hunter back to her daughter. “I’m entirely in favor of healthy debate, but not when it disrupts my bakery.”
Aria looked at the floor, a shadow passing over her face. Hunter picked up his laptop and tucked it under his arm.
“It’s my fault, Mrs. Prescott. I apologize. I won’t bother you or Aria here again.”
“Everyone is welcome at Sugar Joy, Mr. Armstrong. We don’t discriminate.” Eleanor lifted her chin in a way that was so like her daughter’s that he was mildly startled. “I just ask that you keep your visits civil and respectful.”
She looked pointedly at Aria, encompassing her in that statement. Aria spun on her heel and stalked back to the kitchen, her back stiff.
Hunter muttered another apology and left the café, certain he’d just hurt his cause with that exchange. Arguing with the town sweetheart in public wasn’t going to win him any points with the locals.
He strode back to his car. Time to lock this down. The other Mariposa owners were all so close to capitulating that it wouldn’t take much to push them over the edge. When Aria was the only one left standing, she’d have to surrender.
No, he didn’t like the idea of forcing her hand, but she left him no choice. And he’d do well to remember another important credo of business.
Keep emotions out of it.
Especially his feelings about a woman who was making his heart beat again.
