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“Underutilized, my ass!” someone in the crowd shouted to a chorus of approvals.
“Can you explain that?” I raised my voice over the angry buzz of the crowd.
“The resources here are underutilized. This place is an untapped gold mine.” His tone implied I might be too slow-witted to follow his logic. No, not just me, but the whole town. “Take this building.” He waved a lazy hand at the courthouse.
“The Art Center?”
“Yes, wonderful architecture, great location. An opportunity. If the town had turned it into live-work lofts, they could charge top-dollar rents. The building would make them a profit. A boon to the town’s coffers. The art museum is a drain.”
“A drain.” I shot to my feet and planted my hands on my hips. I’d have my pound of flesh. “The art shows here have launched careers, brought tourists to Elmer, and fostered a lively artist community. You don’t understand. You’re not from here.”
A swell of applause punctuated by shouts of “heck yeah” and “you tell him, Cami” rose from the townspeople.
“I have perspective.” His sharp tone could have cut glass.
“A distorted one.” I snorted.
In the back of the crowd, someone yelled, “Give him hell, girl.” The crowd leaned into the barricades. My brother and his deputies struggled to keep order. Wilson either didn’t care or didn’t notice how close he was to being tarred, feathered, and run out of town on a rail. Not that anything like that had happened in Elmer in over a hundred years.
“A business-focused one.” He plucked a fallen oak leaf from his slacks and flicked it away. That cocky LA grin on his face made me want to smack him. Or kick his chair out from under his pompous ass.
“Well, darling,” I laced the endearment with pure evil the way only a southern woman could. A few loud whistles of approval came from the rabid crowd. “Why don’t you expound on the shortcomings of this poor backward area?” I leaned hard into my Texas twang, exaggerating it to its fullest.
The people of my town ate it up.
“Kick him in the balls!” I was pretty sure it was Melvin who shouted that piece of advice.
Pandemonium brewed on the other side of the barricades. I longed to be the ringleader and use Wilson to get even with every out-of-towner that looked down their plastic-surgery-perfect nose at us.
Wilson and I were only inches apart. I lorded over him in his seat. He put his hands on my waist and lifted me up and out of the way so he could stand. His manhandling me added fuel to the raging inferno burning through me. I didn’t care anymore. He’d shown his true colors. He wasn’t buying a house in Elmer. Cowboy boots—what the hell had I been thinking? My golden goose had flown the coop. I might as well roast the bird for supper before it had the chance to leave town.
Wilson poked a finger into the center of my chest. “I’m happ—”
“Cut!” Kate’s shouted command was punctuated by a squeal of feedback as the PA system cut off. “Sit down and shut up. Don’t talk to me. Don’t talk to each other.” She pointed us back to our chairs.
Seething, I flopped into my seat and stared at the note cards spilled over the grass. One or two scattered in a small gust of wind. So much for winning at adulting and keeping the big picture in mind. That had been a Texas-size fiasco, and we weren’t out of the woods yet. The angry townspeople wanted blood. I really hoped no one did something stupid and got arrested. Wilson Phillips wasn’t worth it.
“Sheriff Reid!” Kate called my brother, and I lifted my head. Oh, nice. He’d be so proud of me for causing a near-riot in his town.
He jogged over and stopped in front of Kate, ignoring me.
“Can we get in the courthouse?” she asked.
“Looking to build out apartments?” He looked at Kate and her crew like invading space aliens that he wanted to exterminate.
“No, looking for some privacy so I can talk some sense into my on-air... talent.” Judging by her expression, she didn’t think we were talented at this moment.
“Good luck. I’ve been trying to do that with Cami since we were kids.”
“Can you get us in?” Kate looked unimpressed.
“Yeah, follow me.” Colton twirled a key ring on his index finger.
Chapter 21
Wilson
CameronandIsatin the world’s most uncomfortable plastic chairs, facing Kate. Memories of elementary school visits to the principal’s office made me want to bolt from the seat and start pacing the gallery space. I hated to admit it, but the art center conversion had been tasteful and well done. The former courthouse interior was trendy enough to give off SoHo gallery vibes. The space was a mix of white walls, historic wood floors, and exposed brick.
