Winning Her Love. Harmony Evans

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Winning Her Love - Harmony Evans Bay Point Confessions

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that need to be done,” Gregory concluded.

      “Exactly. When I realized that you intended to keep most of the downtown buildings intact, that’s when I made the decision to sell and get out now, while I could still make a little bit of profit, and the city can still make good use of them.”

      Gregory nodded, even though Stodwell’s comment irked him. He knew the man didn’t care a bit about Bay Point. He was just out to make a fast buck, and it was up to Gregory to make sure that he wasn’t going to do it at Bay Point’s expense.

      “We’ll have to see if we can work your buildings into the development and construction schedule,” Gregory reasoned.

      “Are you still going to tear the carousel down first?”

      “Yes, plus, a few other buildings will be razed to make way for new condos and town houses, as part of the multiuse lifestyle center that will be built. The rest will remain, and the exteriors will be renovated. If the city buys your properties, we can perhaps schedule the renovations in phase two.”

      Stodwell nodded. “This redevelopment idea of yours. It’s a good plan, Mayor. One that will far outlive you and me combined. I urge you and city council to consider my offer.”

      Gregory leaned his hip against his desk. “I can’t guarantee that we will be able to purchase the properties at the price you want. I have to be mindful of the budget.”

      “All I can do is ask, Mayor. If we can’t do a deal, I’m sure the developer will be interested in this opportunity. But if he buys it, you’d lose some measure of control over what happens with the buildings, other than what’s covered under existing commercial zoning regulations, of course.”

      Gregory’s heart suddenly constricted in his chest. Stodwell owned the building that Vanessa’s flower shop was in, as well as Lucy’s Bar and Grille and some others in the same block. He knew the day was coming when he’d have to oversee the collection process of all the past-due business taxes, and he was dreading it. Plus, he knew that city council would likely want to raise rents to help cover the costs of purchasing Stodwell’s commercial properties.

      Both would drastically affect his popularity with Bay Point voters.

      “I just want to be sure that the residents and store owners will not suffer undue harm. I wanted to gain their trust before—”

      Stodwell held up a pudgy hand. “Wait a minute. They elected you the mayor of Bay Point. You already earned their trust four years ago.”

      “And I don’t want to lose it, either.”

      The man laughed. “You’ve got a lot of things to learn about politics, son.”

      “That may be so, but how to piss off my constituency is not one of them.”

      “When they see the end result, they won’t be mad. In fact, I’m willing to bet that they’ll thank you.” Stodwell paused a moment. “Need I remind you of the donation made to your campaign by my company?”

      Gregory clenched his stomach muscles in disgust. He hated being made to feel as if he could be bought. It was the one thing he despised about politics.

      “Your support is graciously appreciated.”

      Stodwell stood. “You know, Gregory, your father and I go back a long ways. It would be a shame if you lost this election.”

      “I don’t plan on losing,” he said, forcing his tone to be relaxed.

      He watched Stodwell wrest his chubby arms into his too-small suit jacket, a visual reminder of the dangers of eating too many doughnuts.

      “Well, Mayor. I’m glad to hear you’re so confident. But sometimes the best-laid plans have a quirky way of going awry.”

      The two men shook hands.

      “I’ll be in touch,” Gregory said, and closed the door behind him.

      He walked over to the window, pressed his forehead against the glass and stared down at the carousel. The damn thing never worked now, but it ran fine when he was a kid.

      Back when he dreamed about riding it. When he thought just one ride would make his well-to-do family normal, not a constant source of envy or gossip.

      He turned away from the window and punched the intercom button. “Mariella, please bring me the list of people who owe commercial-business-related taxes.”

      When he’d originally received the list several weeks ago, he hadn’t paid very close attention to the names on it.

      Now there was one name he hoped he wouldn’t see: Vanessa’s.

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