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“Meeting called to order.” Nico thumped a gavel onto the podium and set a pair of reading glasses on his nose. “We’ll have a quick reading of minutes from the last meeting before getting to our main agenda item.”
As they waited through the reading of the minutes, Aria glanced at Hunter. In his tailored suit, with his sculpted profile, he looked untouchable and almost otherworldly, as if he belonged in a magazine ad. He shifted his gaze to hers. A current sparked between them.
Nico leaned toward the mic. “You’ve all been given a summary of the debate topic involving Mr. Hunter Armstrong, vice-president of Imperial Properties, and Miss Aria Prescott, owner of the Meow and Then Cat Café.”
He peered at his notes. “The debate format is as follows. Each party will present their opinion about the offer of sale issued by Imperial Properties and the proposal to build a multiuse complex known as Oceanview Plaza on the land currently occupied by the owners of Mariposa Street businesses. After each party speaks, they will have a chance to refute each other’s arguments. Then we’ll open the floor for questions before the Mariposa Business Association members place their votes.”
He paused to glance at Aria and Hunter. “Mr. Armstrong has given Miss Prescott the choice of whether she’d like to speak first or second.”
Aria blinked. She’d expected a coin toss. “I…I’ll go first, thank you.”
“The floor is yours, Miss Prescott.” With a slight bow, Nico descended the stage to sit in his reserved front-row seat.
Letting out her breath slowly, Aria approached the podium and adjusted the mic.
“I’d like to thank you all for being here,” she said. “As most of you know, Mariposa Street means a great deal to me, and it’s to my everlasting regret that as a community, we’ve allowed it to deteriorate to the point that a property development company is advocating the destruction of the entire district. But it is not too late. With your help, we can still save our town’s history and culture. To explain why this is so important, I’ll begin by telling you about my father.”
She opened her folder. Her chest tightened. Though her voice shook, she told the townspeople about the history lessons her father had taught her as they walked through Mariposa to the beach.
She talked about the indigenous settlements, the Spanish mission, the development of the fishing village and influx of people during the Gold Rush. She told them about the people who built and lived in the Mariposa buildings—Nellie Paxton-Smith, Christine Sterling, Robert Welford who’d turned the corner saloon into a grocery store, and the former printer’s shop that was now Al’s Bar.
“I recognize and appreciate Mr. Armstrong’s belief in the Oceanview project.” Aria felt Hunter’s gaze on her as if he were touching her. “And I concur that renovating Mariposa Street will take a great deal more effort and money than my petition and donation jar can provide.
“But I believe in this town. I believe we value our history more than we value revenue from chain retail stores and high-rise condos. I believe we need classic movie double-features, healing crystals, penny candy, purring cats, wildflower bouquets, slow-churned ice cream, and pizza made from a recipe handed down by Nico’s grandmother. I believe that if we work together, we can not only save Mariposa Street from destruction, we can bring it back to magnificent life. Our collective past deserves no less.”
She lifted her head. Silence fell over the room. She saw her mother wiping her eyes. Her own vision blurred.
Rory whistled, a sharp burst that split the quiet, and started clapping. Eleanor joined in, and within seconds a thunderous applause filled the room. Several people stood.
The tension gripping Aria’s shoulders eased, and happiness lifted her heart. Picking up her notes, she turned to take her seat.
Both Juliette and Hunter were applauding politely, but Bruce and the lawyers sat stone-faced. Bruce muttered something to Hunter, who nodded.
After the applause died down, Nico introduced Hunter. As he approached the podium, Aria caught sight of Callie standing toward the back.
Callie met her gaze with a slight nod and an even slighter thumbs-up. Aria relaxed into a smile. She’d never seen her sister give an actualthumbs-up.Apparently anything was possible.
No surprise, Hunter was a wonderful, eloquent speaker. His deep voice rolled over the room as he spoke about Imperial Properties’ projects across the nation that had revitalized small towns and brought in both employment and revenue.
He discussed environmental initiatives, planning cooperation, and the natural evolution of towns as living entities. He explained how Oceanview was designed to fit into the landscape and serve as both an extension of downtown and its own neighborhood.
“I also have a confession to make.” He paused and cleared his throat. “I didn’t want to be put in charge of Oceanview Plaza. I thought it was too small compared to Imperial’s other properties. I wanted a project that was about the same size as my ego.”
The crowd laughed. Bruce gave a satisfied grin, as if he sensed the tide shifting in his direction.
“But for several reasons, I agreed to come to Bliss Cove.” Hunter scanned the townspeople, his hands tightening on the edges of the podium. “And though my intention was to get the job done as soon as possible, I quickly discovered it wouldn’t be as easy as I’d thought.
“While all towns have a history, Bliss Cove has roots that run deeper than most. The decline of Mariposa Street speaks not to the townspeople’s lack of interest, but to the fortitude of the residents who have kept the town alive by focusing on the areas that contribute most strongly to progress. The fact is that cities are living entities that change and evolve. So are people.”
He took a breath. “Somewhat to my surprise, during my visit here, I discovered that I’m capable of change, too. Maybe even evolution, if that means I’d rather eat artichoke soup at the Mousehole than dine at a five-star restaurant in Manhattan. I’d rather take a sunset walk on Pelican Beach than spend an evening at the Met. I’d rather go to the Sea Glass Museum than visit the Louvre, and I’d rather be on Mariposa Street than…well, almost anywhere else.”
Applause rose, but the approbation wasn’t as loud as it had been for Aria.
“Because I’ve learned to appreciate everything about Bliss Cove, I want to assure you we have your best interests in mind,” Hunter continued. “Imperial Properties intends to uphold Bliss Cove’s past while looking toward a future of growth and change.”
He turned to the whiteboard and uncapped a dry-erase marker. Swiftly, he wrote a dollar sign.
“This…” he faced the audience and pointed to the board, “…is the future of Bliss Cove.”
