Page 10 of Outspoken Hearts
"Mostly?"
"Small towns can be a bit...watchful."
"You'd know better than I would." I hesitate, then add, "It must be challenging sometimes, being so well-known here."
Something shifts in his expression—a momentary dropping of the mask. "It has its complications."
"Like everyone expecting you to have all the answers?" The words are out before I can stop them.
James looks startled, then gives a small laugh. "You really don't hold back, do you?"
Heat floods my cheeks. "Sorry. I told you: filter not included."
"Don't apologize." He shakes his head. "It's actually... nice. Most people tiptoe around me. Or worse, they assume they know everything about me already."
Our eyes meet across the table, and for a moment, there's a strange sense of recognition. Like we both know what it's like to be seen but not really seen.
The moment stretches, then breaks as James clears his throat and looks down at his portfolio. "I've been thinking about what you said regarding the town logo. You're right that it couldrepresent anywhere. What if we focused on the covered bridge as a central motif?"
We spend the next hour bouncing ideas back and forth, our conversation flowing with surprising ease. James has an impressive grasp of design principles for someone outside the field, and he listens to my suggestions without defensiveness.
"We should probably wrap up," he says eventually, glancing at his watch. "I've got another commitment at five."
"Of course." I start gathering my notes. "This was productive. I think we've got a solid direction for Thursday's meeting."
"Definitely." He pauses, then adds, "I'm glad we were paired together, Eva. Your perspective is valuable... and not just because you're new to town."
The compliment catches me off guard. "Thanks. You're not what I expected either."
"Oh? What did you expect?"
I hesitate, then decide honesty is better than awkward backpedaling. "Someone more controlling. Less open to criticism of the status quo."
Instead of being offended, he laughs. "Fair enough. My reputation does tend to precede me."
"For what it's worth, I like the real version better."
The words hang in the air between us, more personal than I intended. James looks at me with an expression I can't quite decipher.
"That means more than you know," he says quietly.
As we walk out of the coffee shop together, I'm struck by how different this interaction has been from what I anticipated. James Adams isn't just the polished community leader everyone describes. There's depth there, complexity, maybe even a hint of the same kind of loneliness I sometimes feel.
"See you Thursday," he says at the curb, extending his hand.
I take it, feeling again the warmth and solidity of his grip. "Thursday."
He holds my gaze for a beat longer than necessary, then turns and walks toward his car: a sensible but expensive-looking sedan that somehow perfectly matches his persona.
I watch him go, a strange flutter in my chest that I refuse to examine too closely. It's just the satisfaction of a productive meeting, I tell myself. Just the relief of finding a project partner who values my input.
Nothing more complicated than that.
Right?
CHAPTER FIVE
I check my watch repeatedly, scanning for Eva outside Meadowbrook Brew. I'm early as usual, having secured our regular corner table twenty minutes before our scheduled meeting.
