Page 17 of 40 and (Tired of) Faking It
As he finished the last of swallows of his coffee, his gaze snagged on a couple coming down the sidewalk toward the shop. The two seemed vaguely familiar; the man stood tall and stiff, the start of a middle-aged spread evident. The woman beside him was average height, her shoulder occasionally brushing his as she chatted away at him. Not that the man seemed to be paying attention; his focus was intent on something across the street, beyond JD’s peripheral vision. At first JD couldn’t figure out why the couple drew his interest until the woman reached for the man’s hand, intertwining their fingers. Giving her companion a sunny smile. The man allowed it until whatever was across the street came closer and he lifted that hand to wave, breaking their grip.
In that instant JD’s mind filtered back twenty years. Rebecca had agreed to marry him his junior year at Columbia. He could still remember the burst of excitement heryeshad ignited in his chest. A wedding before a judge, a honeymoon in a less-than-five-star New York hotel, and they’d both returned to school. Deliriously in love.
And yet, over the years, that love had been subsumed by his career. An internship his senior year. A position in a top investment firm immediately after graduating with his MBA. Long hours working his way up. How many times had he walked down the street with his wife, his mind on his work while she tried to grab his attention with her words and her touch?
He was still ashamed to admit he couldn’t remember walking down the street together all that often.
When Rebecca got tired of waiting around for him to give work a break and give her attention, he’d learned his lesson. Give women the attention they deserved, but don’t allow them too far in. It was a rule he’d kept even through his early retirement at forty, when he’d left a highly lucrative career to start his real estate firm. Now, nearly a decade later, he found himself wondering if all that work had been worth what he’d given up to have it.
And yet, mere days ago when he’d let Alicia go, he hadn’t had a single regret or doubt.
Whoever had the man’s attention came into view, crossing Main Street in front of the coffee shop. JD recognized him from the courthouse day before yesterday, the one who’d accosted Lily on their way out. What was his name? Right, Dwayne Prescott. And then it clicked. The couple seemed familiar because he’d seen their faces on the planning commission website. He couldn’t remember their names off the top of his head, but their faces, he remembered.
Even knowing a little schmoozing was always a good thing, JD would rather avoid another conversation with Prescott, but it didn’t look like that was going to be possible as the trio turned together to enter Wildwoods Brew.
The tiny bell above the door made a tinkling sound as they entered. Maria came out from the back, her gaze flowing over him, assessing any possible needs, before latching on to the newcomers. He saw his internal grimace reflected on her face as Prescott approached the counter to place his order. The second man—the husband, he saw now, given the dull glow of the wedding ring on his finger—also gave his order before the two moved away from the register, leaving the woman to follow up.
The two men surveyed the room for a seat. Prescott’s gaze met JD’s. He gave a jovial wave and headed in JD’s direction.
Time for the board of director’s face.
As the two men approached, JD held out his hand. “Nice to see you again, Prescott.”
“And you!” The man’s voice boomed in the nearly empty shop, overtaking the space. “Let me introduce you to Kirk Daniels. We’re both on the planning commission I believe you intend to speak to next week.”
“News travels fast.”
JD shook the second man’s hand. The two made themselves comfortable in the armchairs across from JD’s couch.
“Nothing like the gossip line in a small town,” Daniels agreed. “You must have an awfully big project if it makes this much of a ripple in Black Wolf’s Bluff.”
“Must be something to do with your grandmother’s property, eh?” Prescott added.
JD opened his mouth to answer, but the woman approached at just that moment, her hands full with three large drinks. When neither man made a move to assist, JD stood. “Here, let me help you.” He took one of the drinks, allowing her to hand the other two to the men before he passed hers back.
JD offered her his seat on the couch and pulled over a chair from one of the tables, ignoring the men’s protests. Had it not been for the two men’s positions in town, he would’ve corrected their rudeness toward a woman, but instead he kept his mouth shut and did his best to make it up to her with a warm smile. “JD Lane.”
The woman’s return smile creased the corners of her eyes. “Iris Daniels. I’m head librarian at the Bluff’s library.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Iris is also on the planning commission.” The arch tone told JD that Prescott was informing him he had three people to persuade.
JD gave a mental shrug, not worried. “I plan to present a proposal for a new ski resort up on the mountain.”
Exclamations came from all around, and the men peppered him with questions. JD noticed that the woman was quiet, but she wasn’t ignoring them. Her gaze was intent, observant, absorbing everything that was said and, he had no doubt, drawing her own conclusions as to the benefits and drawbacks of his plans.
He endured the interrogation for ten minutes before Lily came through the door. He stood, giving the men and then Iris a polite nod. “If you’ll excuse me, Ms. Easton and I have business.”
“Exactly what kind of business?”
JD ignored Prescott’s question as if he hadn’t heard it, moving quickly toward Lily and escape.
“Slow down,” she murmured as she turned her face away from the trio by the couch. “You’re looking a bit desperate.”
He couldn’t help laughing at her warning. “Good to know, because I am.”
“Then I get a thanks for rescuing you?”
