Page 71 of The Jilted Lovers Club
Ashton comes in at that moment, holding a pair of overalls and a thermal. “There’s some boots that will fit you in the porch bin where I keep the shoes,” he says. Then he sees the phone in my hand, and makes a quiet motion. He leans forward and kisses my cheek. “I’ll go shower,” he whispers, then leaves for the bathroom.
“Are you there with someone?” Alexander asks.
A million thoughts run through my head in all of a few seconds. I have no idea how Alexander will react if he knows I’m sleeping with someone while on a work assignment. I’m still so new to this line of work, still trying to build my business. What if he considers this unprofessional, and this is the last job he gives me? He has so many connections, what if he spreads the word that I’m unreliable?
As far as he knows, I’m at the hotel, all by myself.
“It’s the housekeeper,” I say, keeping my voice low. “They came early.”
“Got it. So, is everything on track for the store?”
“It’s all in place.” I share about the work that was done in the store, plus the last of the displays he hasn’t seen yet. “All we need now is the product, and it will be ready for this Saturday’s Grand Opening.”
“Good, good,” he says. “I got your earlier photos of the interior, and I have to hand it to you, the place looks amazing. I had my doubts about mixing vintage and modern, but it really embraces the whole look of Timeless. I know this company will flourish because of your creative direction. In fact, I was thinking you could stay in Lahoma for a little longer. There are a few other businesses I’ve been talking with, and one is really close to selling, which is going to be a game changer for our future plans.”
“Which business?” I ask. “And what future plans.”
“I can’t say anything until the papers are signed, but it’s a big one,” he says. “As for the future, I’m in the works to make Lahoma Springs a corporate town.”
“What does that mean, exactly?”
“It means we’ll turn the town into a tourist shopping destination. The location is perfect—right there on the river. We could cruise people in from San Francisco, offer them the whole small-town experience. Think boutique hotels, farm-to-table restaurants, curated experiences. It’s Lahoma, elevated.”
He sounds so sure of himself, like he’s pitching the next great idea.
“I’m bringing opportunity to that town. It’s stagnant, Jordy. I’m giving it a future.”
“That’s the opposite of charming,” I say. “What will you do with all the family-owned businesses here? How will they fit into this?”
“Are you not listening? They’ll be set up really well when I buy their businesses. It’s a drop in the bucket for me. When I bought that seed shop, it was for a wing and a prayer—though they acted like I gave them the moon. It showed me I could keep doing this and eventually own the town.”
I take a few deep breaths, feeling lightheaded from everything he’s saying. I’m not well-versed in business dealings, but this one sounds completely rotten and all bad news.
“I don’t understand, you grew up here. You left because you hated it. But now you’re buying it out? Do you have any idea what this will do to the people here?”
“Jordy, this is business, nothing more.” He pauses, and I hear him give a heavy sigh. “Look, I’m not forcing anyone to sell. But if they do, I’ll compensate them generously. I’m investing in my childhood hometown. This is a good thing. Why can’t you see that?”
I’m silent for a moment, anger simmering just beneath the surface.
I think of Michael—how he clawed his way back from cancer and heartbreak, pouring himself into that lush, green shop full of plants and second chances. I think of Grace, on the cusp of becoming Lahoma Springs’ most celebrated artist, and of Griffin, who creates culinary masterpieces with local beef and garden-grown vegetables, feeding his community with care.
I even think of Bernie, how she protected her town’s legacy and the people in it.
I think of every person I’ve met over the past few weeks—how they showed up for one another, how they picketed the Felix’s shop when it changed hands to corporate interests. How they believedsmalldidn’t mean insignificant.
“You’re suggesting something really awful,” I say, my voice low but steady. “You have no idea how special Lahoma Springs is.”
Alexander laughs. “Did they brainwash you with a tractor ride and a barn dance or something? You haven’t even been there a month. I lived there for years. Don’t act like you know more about that town than I do.”
I let out an unsteady breath, my hands shaking with anger.
“Look, nothing’s set in stone,” he says, his tone shifting. “This is just an idea I’m floating. I’m putting out feelers, seeing what’s possible. It doesn’t mean anything yet, and I’d prefer if you didn’t say anything to anyone while you’re there.”
“That’s not fa—”
“Fair?” he cuts in. “Yes, it is. You signed an NDA when you started working with me. That includes discussions about anything related to Winslow & Associates. We’ll talk more about this when I get there tomorrow.”
Stay in the Present
