kind of favor? If it’s a bodyguard you need, clearly that’s not my expertise,” she replied, forking a thumb to the case behind her.
“I would imagine that the thorns of a rose would make a pretty good weapon,” Gregory replied, and then laughed. “Besides, why would I need a bodyguard?”
She stared at him in disbelief. “I read the Courier this morning. The whole town is talking, especially the people who own businesses along Ocean Avenue.”
He clasped his hands behind him, turned and walked to the window. “Ah yes, the downtown redevelopment project. And what are the people saying?”
“That you’ve back-ended them. That you’ve put the wheels in motion without any input from the people your plan will be affecting the most.”
Gregory heeled around, unclasped his hands and held them palm open against his chest.
“There’s been talk about redeveloping downtown for years. I’m only doing what my predecessor always wanted to do but could never seem to get done.”
Vanessa shook her head in disgust, opened the second flower case and turned out the lights. Under Gregory’s watchful eyes, the refrigerated air in the case seemed even chillier now. Her nipples tightened painfully beneath the silk of her bra, but she no longer cared.
Her spirit drew strength from the colorful blooms, reminding her of what was important.
Protecting her livelihood. That was what mattered.
She closed the door, sealing the air and the flowers for the night. “Passing the buck of blame? Watch it, Mayor Langston,” she warned icily, her breath misting against the glass. “You’re starting to sound like a politician.”
Vanessa saw his reflection move toward her, so she abruptly turned and went behind the counter, grateful for the barrier between them.
Gregory approached and raised an eyebrow. “Mrs. Barnell didn’t mention one word about the redevelopment. If anyone would have anything to say, it would be her.”
Vanessa stabbed at the buttons on her cash register until the drawer opened. “Maisie is a kind, decent-hearted woman. Sadly, she has too much respect for you to call you out on what is a sorely misguided plan.”
Gregory chuckled, rankling her nerves. “Revitalizing Bay Point’s downtown to make it more attractive for everyone is a misguided plan?”
“Don’t oversimplify things, Mayor,” she snapped, narrowing her eyes. “You’re going to tear down some of our beautiful historic downtown buildings and replace them with ugly, tacky condos.”
“Lifestyle centers,” he corrected.
“Strip malls and overpriced plywood boxes,” she shot back. “Both completely devoid of any structural beauty.”
“No, Vanessa,” Gregory replied in a slow and even tone. “Gorgeous contemporary living spaces where residents have access to everything they need.”
Instead of replying, she shook her head and quickly counted the cash and coins in the drawer. Then she grabbed her ledger book from underneath the counter and notated the amount.
Focusing on the task at hand, before too long she’d added up her profit for the day, and she stuffed the cash plus a few checks into a zippered leather envelope. As soon as Gregory left, she was going to walk down to the bank and deposit the meager amount. Then she was going to go home, take a hot bath and try to forget that he was ever here.
“It sounds like a jail to me,” she said finally, not looking up at the man.
Gregory cleared his throat. “People want modern amenities and a home with an ocean view,” he explained with smooth calmness. “Now they’ll get both in Bay Point.”
She lifted her eyes and sniffed in annoyance. “Yeah, for a price. You know, most people around here can’t afford their own home, let alone buying a new one.”
“There will be tax-abatement incentives that will help,” he insisted. “And we’re partnering with banks that will be willing to lend with little to no down payment.”
“It’s not enough. And it will never work,” she replied with a vehemence that made her proud and sad at the same time. She normally wasn’t a negative person. Politicians, even gorgeous ones, seemed to bring out the worst in her.
“It will work,” he insisted. “With your help, that is. I want you to be my campaign manager.”
She slammed the cash drawer closed, and it felt as if her heart had jumped off a cliff. Although she and Gregory had grown up in the same town, she didn’t even know the man, and now he wanted her at his side?
“You must be joking.”
Her words came out clipped, but it felt as though they were spoken through mud. Gregory placed both palms on the counter. “I assure you, I’m not.”
Vanessa’s throat tightened almost painfully, and she could have drowned in the confident intensity of his hazel eyes.
“And I can assure you that I’m not interested.”
Gregory took a step back. “Really? I’m surprised. Your father told me that flowers are not your only talent. You also have a knack for public relations, and you’ve been especially successful helping politicians in a crisis, I hear.”
Vanessa’s stomach burned with resentment. Her father had no business talking to the mayor about her, but she’d deal with him later.
In Gregory’s voice, she heard no trace of disdain, and that was good. There were only two people who knew the sordid details of her stint in political public relations, and that was the way it would remain. She was a pro at hiding the secrets of powerful and successful men, and even better at hiding her own.
Vanessa tilted her head. “Oh, so you’re admitting your reelection campaign is in trouble?”
“Not trouble,” he insisted, lifting one finger. “Just a bit of a rough spot.”
She broached a wry smile. “I’d say you’re at the top of a raging waterfall about to crash to the rocks below.”
Gregory leaned in closer. “I like to live dangerously,” he murmured in a low voice.
At his words, her pulse raced anew, chasing something elusive and sensual.
She was relieved when he stepped away from the counter and peered into one of the refrigerated cases.
“How’s business been lately?”
It sucks, she thought as she took a sip from her water bottle. But she wasn’t going to tell him that. Had he seen the ledger? She wished she’d waited until he was gone to count the cash drawer.
“Steady. I can’t complain.”
That much was true. Between her walk-in customers, internet orders and those from the hospital, Blooms in Paradise was just breaking even. She hadn’t had a paycheck in months, though, so she was teaching a floral design class at a community college
