5
Gregory Langston jutted his fists knuckles-down against the windowsill and stared outside. The sun was at the halfway point in the sky, hanging around the corner of dusk. It would be dark soon. If he was going to see Vanessa, he’d better go quickly, before she closed the shop for the evening.
He squinted involuntarily at the orange-red orb blazing away in the distance. The California sun was gloriously dangerous yet absolutely necessary to his survival, just like the risk he was about to take.
“I have to win,” he muttered fiercely under his breath.
Although he was only thirty years old, Gregory had achieved more than many men had in a lifetime. At age twenty-six, he became the youngest and the first African-American mayor in Bay Point, California. He’d won the esteemed position in a landslide victory four years earlier, an accomplishment of which he was extremely proud.
Now he was up for reelection. But this time victory would not come easily. His only rival in the mayoral race was making his campaign a living hell.
Jacob Billingsly “the Third and only,” as the man liked to put it, had lived in Bay Point for only a few years, yet acted as if he’d resided there his entire life. When Jacob had announced his plan to run for mayor, no one had been more shocked than Gregory, who had taken the young upstart under his wing and given him a paid internship as a mayoral clerk for two summers. When Jacob had graduated with an MBA from Stanford University, Gregory had given him a glowing reference for a potential employer in New York City. He’d even driven Jacob to the airport on what was supposed to be his last day in Bay Point.
As it turned out, Jacob never left, and now it seemed he spent most of his time spreading rumors and lies about Gregory and his plans for Bay Point.
The knot in his stomach tightened and Gregory closed his eyes, bracing for the pain, which was happening all too often lately.
Although Gregory would never admit it to anyone, he was scared he was going to lose his reelection bid. The thought that he might have made a mistake by choosing a career in politics kept him up night after night. Maybe he should have continued working in his father’s law firm instead of trying to fix the town that he loved more than anything.
His eyes drifted from the horizon to the storefronts and streets beneath his fourth-floor office. The traditional grid-like pattern appealed to his strong sense of order.
In its heyday, Bay Point was a hideaway for California’s rich and famous, particularly actors and actresses from Los Angeles who sought a temporary escape from a lifestyle that often demanded too much. The whimsical shops and cheery restaurants amid the sultry ocean breeze were a balm to their weary souls. The stars still journeyed to the town from time to time, but not enough to stir headlines or the attention of entertainment bloggers.
But now Bay Point, whose population was about ten thousand individuals of all races and ethnicities, was in serious trouble. Located on the beautiful Pacific coast between San Francisco and the Oregon border, the once-vibrant beach town had fallen on hard times in recent years. Many longtime residents had moved due to the recession and high unemployment rate. Newcomers were few and far between.
Gregory knew he needed to bring additional revenue into the area to attract new residents or, at the very least, tourists. And he needed to give the people already there a reason to stay. Redeveloping Bay Point’s quaint but aging downtown was the only way to begin to breathe new life into a town that was in danger of dying.
Gregory grimaced and stuck two fingers of his left hand inside his blue oxford shirt, attempting to massage away the painful knot beneath his rock-hard abdomen. The residents of Bay Point trusted Gregory to bring the town back to the prosperity it had once known. They had elected him into office, believing that he could enact lasting change. He couldn’t let them down, but the truth was, he was afraid he already had.
This morning he’d unveiled his plans to redevelop downtown Bay Point in the Bay Point Courier. The three-year project, which took about that much time to actually scope and plan, would bring much-needed jobs, new retail and new housing to the area.
He’d tried to keep many of the details under wraps as the plan was being solidified so that residents wouldn’t be alarmed. But Bay Point was a small town, and some folks just couldn’t keep their mouths shut. Now that all the details were in print, many weren’t happy.
To make way for the construction of a brand-new municipal complex, the project also included the demolition of the Bay Point Carousel. To Gregory’s surprise, this seemed to elicit the most unfavorable responses among his constituents. The phone had rung off the hook all day, and his inbox was flooded with angry emails.
“Not good,” he muttered.
He peered at the hundred-year-old carousel, located in the center of downtown, and wondered why it held such an appeal to everyone. He understood the structure’s historical significance. But it was a drain on the city’s budget, and it was almost always broken-down. It had to go.
Gregory withdrew his fingers from his shirt and cranked open the casement window. He needed the favor of Bay Point residents, but more important, he needed their votes in order to be elected to a second term as mayor. Somehow he had to get them back on his side. He had to make them see the beauty of his vision for the city. Tearing down the carousel would be a good thing. A new beginning.
He ran his hand down his face. Two knocks and a tap on the door jolted
