“I do just fine,” I snapped. “There are plenty of jobs in Asheville and surrounding towns. Business is great at the moment and it’s the right
kind
of business. Those looking for discounted bargains aren’t about to walk in and buy fudge from a specialized candy maker. Our village is perfect as it is.”
“I would be willing to design the center in a way that conforms to the look and feel of the place,” he offered.
“You will never have my support Mr. Monroe. I will fight the development of this center
until I win or it kills me. Take your northern money somewhere else,” I turned away from him. “We don’t need it here.”
He never spoke another word. I listened silently until I heard the bell chime on the door. Turning around I was grateful to see that Evan Monroe was gone. Something about that man made me crazy. I’d had to deal with my share of potential developers as a part of the Society, but this one really set my blood boiling. Maybe it was the condescending way he looked at me. I wasn’t sure.
I decided to put that man out of my mind and focus on my day. I had a meeting with the Society later that evening and we could discuss our plans further. At the moment, I was going to enjoy my shop and the customers that would no doubt enter it. The Biltmore House had their Festival of Flowers going on and that always drew in large crowds of people. I was very fortunate in that word of mouth about my shop had spread and most people that came into the Village for the day would stop in and try out my candy.
It made years of cooking school worthwhile even if I went a completely different path than what I’d intended.
“Good morning Alexis,” I heard Mrs. Whipple’s greeting before I’d even heard the door chime. “How are you doing this week dear?”
She was one of my most regular and faithful customers. At nearly eighty years old she still made a weekly trip to the shop to pick up various candies. She told me that she kept them on hand for when her grandchildren and great-grandchildren would visit. Her theory was that they deserved a treat from grandma and she was going to make sure they had one.
“I’m great,” I lied, hiding my anger. “How are you?”
“I’d be better if I could still make this stuff myself,” she laughed. “But as long as I see the smiles on the faces of my babies it doesn’t matter much.”
“No doubt they adore you, Mrs Whipple,” I smiled and began to bag up her usual choices. As we chatted I found myself forgetting about the man that made my life hell. Instead, I noticed my mind wandering to Nick and whether or not he wanted to someday be someone’s grandpa.
*****
Chapter 2
I arrived at The Bistro about fifteen minutes early for the Preservation Society meeting. A table was already set up for us and the hostess was kind enough to show me to it so that I wasn’t left waiting in the front.
We had chosen the restaurant because it was the type of place we wanted to preserve. Though not necessarily historic in nature, the restaurant focused on local fare and I really liked that about it. Another thing that I liked in regards to our meeting was that only guests to Biltmore Estate could dine at the place. We were allowed because we had a season pass to the Estate, one of the perks of being on the Society.
It was situated right beside the winery on the Estate and I immediately requested a bottle of my favorite blend. Though I didn’t eat at The Bistro often, I was aware that their menu tended to change based on seasonal availability of food.
The Preservation Society was meeting to discuss the potential retail development and our current plan of action. I had been heading up the Society for the previous couple of years and that afforded me some of the better privileges. Unfortunately, it also put me directly into the line of fire for the likes of Evan Monroe.
The first day I’d met him, he had thought that his charm and looks would win me over. He’d tried being flirty and friendly, but I’d blown off any chance he had of success. What Monroe and others like him didn’t understand was that my hometown meant far more to me than any relationship or interested man ever could.
Besides, he was a suit and tie type of man. I was yoga pants and flowing t-shirts. There was nothing about the two of us that would have ever worked out, so his playing that card appeared desperate.
“Alexis,” Grant Peters appeared at the table. As one of the oldest members of the Society, he was originally slated for my position at the head of the table. His wife’s sickness and a lack of time had led him to turn it down and recommend me. “So good to see you,” he gave me a quick hug before finding a seat that he was comfortable with.
Soon the rest of the Society’s main members began to file in and take their seats. I looked around at the people that I considered friends. They weren’t on the level of Kendall, but they and I shared a common goal that gave us a special bond. I enjoyed what time I spent with them.
The majority of us ordered the Prime Rib as it was on special and almost everyone enjoyed a glass of the red wine I’d ordered.
“Our biggest issue at the moment,” Patty Wilcox spoke first, “is the Biltmore Village retail development proposal.”
I nodded my agreement along with the remainder of the members.
“The HRC has received their application and will be making a decision soon,” she continued. “We have to do something fast. And it needs to be good.”
I had heard the rumor that the Historic Resources Commission was escalating the decision by request of the developer, but I wasn’t positive how soon it would be handed down.
“When Patty?” I asked, pausing from my meal in the hopes that an answer was available.
“I heard next week,” she replied, looking disappointed to deliver the news.
“I’m planning to attend the meeting where the decision is being shared,” Vincent Strait, another long time member, spoke up.
“How many would like to attend?” I asked, pulling out a notebook to jot down the things I needed to remember.
Everyone acknowledged their plan to be there, bringing a smile to my face. That was the kind of participation I liked to see: people that loved our hometown. That’s what made me the happiest.
“I’ve arranged a hearing,” Patty spoke again. “On Thursday. For the public. I want to hear what they think.”
“That’s a great idea,” Grant complimented her. “I think we are going to find that locals aren’t any happier with this than we are.”
“But we need more,” Mya Simmons added. “We need to be proactive.”
“How so Mya?” Vincent asked.
“We need to get out there. In the public. We need to talk with them and get the word out. They need to understand why we want this stopped.”
“I agree,” I told them. “I think we need to hit the streets over the next few days. Talk to people. See what we can do.”
“I can do that,” Grant offered.
“Me too,” Patty agreed.
“Anyone who can’t find time to get out there?” I asked. No one replied and so we decided to get that done.
Patty volunteered to print out flyers to hand out and Mya was going to make a book of photos of the Village. We discussed a list of the best places to meet people and share our mission with them and then we decided that it was time to enjoy our dinner and adjourn for the night.
“Thank you for all you do,” Grant mentioned as he shook my hand before leaving. “I knew I was choosing the right person.”
“Thank you Grant,” I smiled. “How is Anna?”
“She’s okay,” He replied. “We’ve had better days. We’ve had worse.”
“Give her my love,” I offered and meant every word.
I’d only known Anna and Grant through the Society but they’d become two of my dear friends. When Grant had shared the word of Anna’s battle with cancer, I’d cried with them. She was such a sweet woman and was only in her mid-forties. She was far too young to be facing something so tragic.
I hugged Grant and headed towards my car. I had just enough time to get home and comfortable before Reckless came on and Nick contacted me. It was a standing date that we would chat about the show as we watched it. It was something that I looked forward to every Monday night.
Are you ready? Will she leave? Do you have Kleenex?
His message came in only moments after I’d made myself comfortable on the sofa. He definitely knew how to make timing work in his favor.
Yes. No. Of course.
How was your day?
Ugh, don’t ask.
That bad?
Actually, no. It had a lot of good parts. I just happen to really hate the bad ones.
Agreed.
How was work?
Ugh, don’t ask.
I laughed at his mockery of my own comment. I was growing to like Nick a little too much. He seemed to help make the bad days feel just a little bit better.
Someone thinks that they are funny.
Then they probably are.
It’s about to start.
Do you think Zack is hot?
Do you? Is there something you want to tell me Nick?
Now who thinks they are funny?
I’m not the one that said it.
Touché. But in my defense, I had a valid reason.
Such as?
He and Misty are touted as this perfect couple. They have an amazing bond. They are talked about in all of the magazines. I don’t know. I just wondered are they really that wonderful?
I don’t think we can be friends anymore Nick.
Funny. It’s just I look at Misty and she’s pretty, sure, but I don’t see her as being this idea of the perfect woman.
I don’t think it’s about that. I think it’s the relationship. The connection. That’s what makes them special.
Good point.
So……..what do you see as the idea of the perfect woman?
I was curious to see how he responded. Something about him talking about women hit me in an odd way. Almost like jealousy.
Looks or personality wise?
Both.
That’s a tough one. Did you just see that kiss? Okay, maybe it’s the connection.
Yes. I don’t think anyone really kisses like that. Why is it tough?
If I found a woman that did, she’d own me. Because every time I meet a woman I believe to be beautiful, I really dislike her personality.
And all the good women are ugly?
No. Honestly, I haven’t met one that seems perfect. Unless you count yourself.
You have no idea what I look like.
Somehow it doesn’t matter.
Did you study a book on cheesy lines to offer women on social networking sites?
Yes. Did I get my money’s worth?
Possibly.
What about you? What is the perfect man?
I don’t know. But when I find him I will tell you all about it.
Ouch. That stung.
I don’t think it exists to be honest. A man that will adore me. One that will make my life better just being a part of it. I think it’s just wishful thinking.
Or a really bad Hallmark card.
She’s going to die.
I think so.
They are really going to take her off the show.
It looks like it.
I felt the emotions overwhelm me. Most would find it crazy that I was sitting alone in my house, crying and sniffling because a character was leaving a television show. I couldn’t really put it into words. I’d been suckered into the show and the relationship between Zack and Misty for years. It was very sad to think of it not existing.
You got quiet.
He brought me out of my thoughts.
Yes.
Are you crying?
Maybe.
Need me to come and give you a hug?
Something told me he was joking, but I wasn’t sure. And the idea that he could be serious terrified me. A part of me wanted that very much. But a part of me didn’t.