A nugget of his prior conversation with Arnie returned.
“Are you related to—”
“Yes.” Vince hurriedly cut off the chairman’s question during their initial phone call, assuming that Arnie wanted to know if he was related to Aldo Patrizio, the self-made tycoon.
Vince needed to find out if his grandfather’s name was an advantage or a deal breaker. Meanwhile, his smile never faltered. “I may have been invited here at the request of the tribal council, but I hope that when I’m through most of you will see the benefits of a casino in Railroad Stop. Indulge me for a moment as I recap the advantages of having such a facility in your area.”
Off to his right, someone scoffed, someone Vince would have to deal with soon, just not in front of such a large audience.
Vince spoke briefly of job opportunities, the tax dollars that would go to improving roads and schools, as well as the fact that Railroad Stop could control how big the casino would be. Vince hoped for big. “Raising a family, paying the bills and building a community all take hard work and vision. I encourage you to talk amongst yourselves, to foster healthy debates like this one.”
“You haven’t invited us to debate you. Big companies don’t usually care about small facilities.” A woman’s voice. From the right wall. Heckler Central.
There were several murmurs of assent.
Who was this woman? Vince couldn’t tell. And he wouldn’t validate her remarks by acknowledging them. It didn’t matter. The time for discussion would come later, after he’d created a platform of enthusiasm and support.
Vince continued as if uninterrupted. “If you feel a casino built to represent the character and heritage of the area will help bring to life the vision you have for Railroad Stop’s future, I’ll be happy to help you achieve that.”
His comments were met with a healthy dose of applause, but Vince wasn’t fooled. Deliberately, he turned to his right, preparing a friendly smile for the vocal naysayer he needed to win over. As if on cue, all the others in the crowd angled their heads toward one woman as well, unwittingly pointing her out.
Despite the mutinous expression on her face, she avoided his gaze. She wore flannel and blue jeans like most of the crowd, but that didn’t hide her polish. She wore the casual clothes with style.
A vein throbbed in Vince’s forehead. It wasn’t his grandfather the murmuring crowd had been thinking about.
The tremble of Jill’s auburn ponytail gave away that his wife wasn’t happy to see him.
The feeling was mutual.
“HE’S GOT OUR last name.” Teddy bobbed and weaved in front of Jill as he tried to catch a glimpse of Vince. “Why is that?”
It could have been Jill’s imagination that everyone within five feet of her stopped talking and leaned closer, anxiously awaiting her answer, but it wasn’t, which was why she chose to ignore her son’s question. Several townspeople were already streaming down the aisle with eyes on Jill. And those that weren’t had Vince in their sights. The crush of inquisitive people forced Jill, Teddy and Edda Mae back down to the front of the hall, toward her husband. It was easy to pretend in the chaos that she couldn’t hear anyone’s questions directed her way.
“Is he your man?” Edda Mae asked, the tanned skin around her eyes wrinkled, more than usual with the width of her hopeful smile. “I bet he’s come to claim you.”
“If he wanted to, Vince would have come after me years ago.” Jill’s limbs trembled.
In the eleven years they’d been married Vince had become a shadow of her own making, always with her but never truly there. Silent and malleable, her image of Vince had been perfect for Jill. Until the real man showed up supporting the wrong cause.
And flashing his pearly whites at Arnie.
“Time to go, Teddy.” Jill nudged his shoulder.
The crowd at the front of the hall parted to let them through. And why wouldn’t they? Jill was providing enough fodder for a year’s worth of gossip. And now she had to pass within arm’s reach of Vince to leave.
“Are you going to ask him why we have the same last name?” Teddy spun about and grabbed her arm, tilting his head up so that Jill could see the impish grin on his face.
“No.”
“Can I?”
“No.” Jill gently turned her son around and continued working her way toward the exit. The last time she’d seen her husband he’d been asleep on the couch in the house her parents had given them as a wedding gift and she’d been tiptoeing out the door. He’d never asked for an explanation for her departure and she’d never offered one.
Jill was now close enough to take in Vince’s crisp haircut, the fine thread count of his jacket as it stretched across his broad shoulders, and the smile that had melted more than one girl’s heart. At least his leather shoes had a layer of dust on them. Otherwise he’d have been fashionably spotless, whereas she looked dowdy in her worn jeans and shirt.
Vince was listening intently to the council chairman, Arnie Eagle. He wouldn’t even notice her leaving. It was probably her imagination that he’d recognized her at all.
As Jill drew even with Vince’s shoulder, she couldn’t resist saying half under her breath, “I won’t let you build a casino here.”
Vince held up a hand, stopping Arnie midsentence—no small feat—and turned to Jill, his dark gaze commanding. “We’ll discuss that—and more—later.”
Teddy’s eyes were as big as saucers.
“Ohhh,” Edda Mae sighed as if this was a scene in one of her beloved romance novels.
Without a word, Jill made her escape. It wasn’t until her hand hesitated with the key in the ignition that she realized she’d nodded her assent.
“YOU’VE BEEN very patient.” With the rolling gait of a veteran horseman, Arnie escorted Vince out, his flashlight illuminating the dirt road.
“Everyone deserves their questions answered,” Vince said. Arnie didn’t realize that nothing was ruining this one for Vince, not potholed roads or long-lost wives who tossed down the gauntlet without so much as a how’ve you been.
“But you’re probably anxious to see your family,” Arnie said, unable to hide his curiosity.
Vince bit back a bitter laugh. Jill wasn’t family. He knew she’d settled in Railroad Stop. But he hadn’t expected her to treat him as if he’d been the one who left.
“I’ve got four of our tribal-council members behind this project. Our vote is just a formality if your offer is fair.” Arnie’s voice dragged Vince’s attention back.
He smiled. Vince was willing to take a chance on Arnie. A graduate of Stanford, Arnie had made a respectable fortune selling his interest in a dot.com before the industry busted. Even if the casino venture wasn’t a sure thing, Arnie and his colleagues had conducted an environmental-impact study last year and hired
