“Okay, I’ll try to behave. You could still turn this over to the police, but make a copy first. If I ever need to blackmail Dinah to get out of one of her ‘special’ catfish loaf dinners this would be helpful.”
A vision of himself on the TV news flashed before his eyes. In addition to being called the Grinch, the reports blamed him for putting two older women behind bars making them miss their Thanksgiving dinners. He patted his pockets, finding a roll of antacids and pulling down the wrapper.
“Apparently, your delicate stomach doesn’t agree with even the idea of that dinner. Be glad you’ve never had to eat it.”
He shot her a dirty look as he crunched a couple of tablets.
She drummed her index finger against her mouth and glanced toward the ceiling. “You could send a copy to them anonymously.”
“I think they’d figure out who took the footage pretty quickly. I don’t want them to end up in jail.”
“Dinah might get off with probation. Depends on whether the judge likes the Mayor or not.”
“No. I’m not vindictive. I just want them to stop.”
“Do you want me to speak with them?” Her offer wasn’t enthusiastic, but still held promise.
“Would you?” Hope rose inside him.
“I said want, not will.”
“Please? You know the people and they like you.”
A sigh passed through her lips, and for a brief moment she looked utterly kissable. She turned her gaze to him. “Understand, I don’t want to. First, any appreciation from you is too little too late, and second, I think you’re getting what you deserve to some degree.”
“So you agree with punishing me personally for a business decision?”
“It was an uninformed decision on your part. Tell me, did you consult with anyone from the town before cancelling the display?”
“No.”
“Is that your corporate policy or is it just you?”
“We try to turn around unprofitable companies. You have to make tough decisions.”
“I get tough decisions. I make contract decisions, too, but strict monetary value is only part of the equation. Grandpa handled more of the business details, but each decision has multiple cost factors. Money from the parking meters pays to fill potholes. The businesses on Main Street, including my store, depend on the increased sales during the holidays to cover overhead expenses all year long. The train display brings in people from all over. The motel on the outskirts stays full on Friday and Saturday nights during December. Last year, Jo’s diner did enough business to get an elevator shaft in her home. The increased energy usage goes back to Adena.”
“An elevator? What does that have to do with anything?”
“Her son has muscular dystrophy and already he struggles with stairs somedays. It’s not a question of if he’ll need a wheelchair but when. Insurance doesn’t cover everything, so the end of the year money is how she stays in her home. You might have learned some of this if you’d bothered to ask around first. Instead you rolled in here with a bunch of outside ideas and didn’t consider the community. There are consequences to your budget slashing and when you did it without considering the big picture, you upset a lot of people.”
“Okay, but what if I hadn’t done anything? Adena’s value was in free-fall and the ownership was desperate for cash and a way out of the responsibility of ownership. That’s how my company acquired it, but frankly they didn’t do their due diligence regarding regulation. And what about the people who depended on the company’s stability for their retirement? Or everyone employed by me—”
“Those you didn’t fire—”
“If I can’t get Adena turned around by the end of January, it will fold and be sold off piecemeal to the highest bidder, even if it means dismantling the operations. One of the national companies would take over, fire everyone in the call center, marketing departments, maintenance, line repair basically anyone whose job could be done cheaper elsewhere. That’s a lot more people out of work. A few might get lucky enough to be on the call list in case something goes wrong, but it will be the gig economy at best. No benefits, no regularly scheduled paycheck. Your precious Main Street will be vacant.” His throat tightened as he spoke.
“There’s no need to yell.”
“Yes there is. It’s the only way to get you or anyone else in this damned town to listen.”
She looked shocked, as if he’d slapped her across the face.
“Get out.”
“I’m so sorry. I—”
“I’d take this town over your city any day. Now get out. I have tons of work to do and only hours left to transform this all purpose room into a winter wonderland.”
He slunk toward the door, feeling like a snake. Reaching for the handle, a thought passed into his mind. She might hate him even more, but he asked anyway. “I know everyone in this town hates me and wants me to leave. The time I spend cleaning up and paying fines is time I’m not spending at work, trying to get Adena on more solid financial footing and preserve the company, which is all I want to do. Will you please help? At least ask Miss Jones to lay off for a few days while I’m out of town?
Her eyes softened. “Of course. What kind of a person do you think I am?”
He left, closing the door on the most maddening, infuriating, intriguing, and sexiest women he’d ever met. If only he could figure out how to stop saying the wrong thing around her.
Chapter 18
His low opinion of her town shouldn’t matter to her, but it did. She wanted him to like Belkin and, by extension, her. His job made him miserable. This wasn’t the first time she’d observed him reaching for the antacids. Maybe he’d be a bit more reasonable if he spent less time trying to
