His First and Last (Ardent Springs #1) (10 page)

“Miss Cameron,” Lorelei said, extending her hand, “this might be the start of a very profitable friendship.”

“If your cookies taste anything like your grandmother’s, I’m sure it will be.”

Chapter 8

Spencer tried to ignore Lorelei’s fidgeting, but she kept crossing and uncrossing her legs, which caused her tight skirt to drift higher and higher up her thighs. If she kept it up, he’d kill them both due to failure to keep his eyes on the road.

“You need to relax,” he said, his own body anything but. They were on their way to a Ruby Restoration meeting. The combination of his awakened libido and concern for how Lorelei would be received coiled Spencer’s nerves tighter than the draw on a hunting bow.

“This isn’t a good idea,” she said for the fourth time in the last hour. “None of these people are going to want me on this project.”

Her continued lack of confidence plagued Spencer. Lorelei had always been bold and brash, uncaring of what anyone thought. Now she was the total opposite. He’d go so far as to call her fragile. She’d fretted over the cookie samples for Snow, frustration and doubt causing her to burn the first batch. Then she’d declared the second not good enough and started over again.

This was not his Lorelei. Something she’d told him, but he didn’t believe it until now.

“You were worried about the bake sale last Sunday, and that went well,” he reminded her. “Give them a chance.”

“A chance to chew me up and spit me out.”

Spencer pulled into an empty space in front of the restaurant and slammed the truck into park. “Where is this coming from?” he asked, turning in his seat. “This isn’t you. This isn’t the Lorelei Pratchett who barreled through life on her own terms and to hell with everybody else.”

Instead of meeting his anger with her own, Lorelei’s eyes dropped to her lap. “That Lorelei got kicked enough times to change her attitude.”

“Well, change it back.”

She turned on him then. “If you think I like what I’ve become, you’re wrong. But you take enough hits and it gets harder to get back up. I’m doing the best I can right now, okay?”

With that, she dropped out of the truck, slammed the door behind her, and stormed off toward the entrance. This was more than having to admit she was never going to be an actress. He didn’t know what had happened to her out west, but someone as strong as Lorelei didn’t break easy.

Feeling guilty for pushing her so hard, Spencer exited the truck and crossed the parking lot. He was surprised to find Lorelei waiting for him outside the front door.

Avoiding eye contact, she mumbled, “I can’t believe you have these meetings at Lancelot’s restaurant.”

“They let us use the private room every Friday night for free,” he explained. “Nobody else in town was willing to do the same.” Spencer held the door for Lorelei to enter, then nodded at the teenager behind the hostess podium. “Hi, Tina. Is the room filling up back there?”

“Not yet, Mr. Boyd,” the petite brunette answered.

As Spencer led Lorelei through the restaurant, she snorted behind him. “Mr. Boyd?”

“To a sixteen-year-old, thirty is ancient,” he said over his shoulder. “Wait until they start ma’am-ing you.”

Her voice turned serious. “I am not old enough to be called ma’am.”

“You keep telling yourself that, darlin’.”

Lorelei’s huff was lost in the cacophony of voices that greeted them upon entering the private dining room of Lancelot’s Family Restaurant. The room was lined with six coats of armor, each dustier than the one before it. The abundance of metal gave the room terrible acoustics, which made the nine people in the room sound like thirty. The majority of the noise was coming from Harvey Brubaker and Buford, who were in the middle of their usual argument.

“Earnhardt was the greatest driver ever, and anybody who can’t see that is blind,” Harvey bellowed.

“Earnhardt couldn’t pop a pimple on Richard Petty’s butt,” Buford answered.

“Give it a rest, you old blowhards.” The scolding came from Nitzi Merchant, who’d been the secretary at Ardent Springs High since Spencer’s mother had been a student. Maybe longer. “Thank goodness you’re here, Spencer,” she said, waving a hand at the arguing men as she crossed the room. “You’re the only voice of reason on this committee.” With a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, Nitzi turned to the newest member of the team. “Hello, Lorelei. You look as pretty as ever.”

“Thank you, Ms. Merchant,” Lorelei said, looking anywhere but at the woman addressing her. Leaning into Spencer’s shoulder, she whispered, “I don’t see Granny.”

Rosie and Pearl had taken in their weekly Friday matinee down in Goodlettsville, but should arrive any minute. “They’ll be here,” he whispered back.

As if he’d conjured them with his words, the pair entered the room. “Sorry we’re late,” Rosie said. “Did we miss anything?”

“The usual,” Spencer replied. He’d hoped the group would make a better first impression on Lorelei. How was anyone supposed to take
them seriously when their own leadership acted like preschoolers on a playground?

“When will those two stop arguing about those silly race car drivers?” Pearl asked. “It’s not as if they’re ever going to agree.”

“They’re men, Pearl. They wouldn’t know what to do with themselves if they weren’t arguing about something.” Rosie tucked her hand around Lorelei’s elbow. “I’m so glad you’re here, honey. Let’s find our seats so Julie May can take our orders before things get started.”

Rosie pulled Lorelei across the dining room, with Spencer following close behind, gauging the room for reactions to her arrival. Some didn’t seem to have noticed, or pretended not to. Some looked unhappy but not openly hostile. Harvey and Buford were the ones to worry about. Pearl was right, the two rarely agreed on anything, but if they did agree on something, and that something was a no on Lorelei’s involvement with the committee, Spencer would have a fight on his hands.

Once the ladies had put in their orders, Spencer added his own. He was half listening to Pearl’s movie review when Jebediah Winkle entered the room. The mayor of Ardent Springs had a presence that could not be denied. Spencer had hoped he would be too busy to attend the meeting, as his mayoral obligations had kept him away before.

Of course, Spencer could not be that lucky tonight.

Lorelei felt herself grow smaller as Jebediah Winkle crossed the room. With his broad shoulders and heavy brow, he looked as menacing as she remembered. Becky Winkle had been Lorelei’s nemesis, but her father had been her persecutor—a firm believer in the “sins of the father” philosophy. Only in Lorelei’s case, it was the sins of the mother.

The woman had pulled the triumvirate of having sex outside of marriage, getting knocked up, and giving birth to a daughter who
would no doubt turn out just like her. Regardless of the fact Lorelei had been an innocent child, Deacon Winkle never let her, or anyone else, forget where she’d come from.

Dark gray eyes sailed over her, assessing and dismissing in the span of a breath. In that moment, Lorelei knew she wasn’t long for this committee. It would take an endorsement from the Almighty himself to win her a welcome, and that was certainly never going to come.

The meeting was called to order by Buford Stallings, and Lorelei wondered how he and Jebediah got along—the man who’d been mayor and the opponent who’d unseated him. Lorelei’s knowledge of politics was minor at best, but she couldn’t imagine being friendly with the person who’d taken her job away. Only losing an election was worse, because that meant the people you’d served had decided they didn’t want you anymore. Stallings had been popular back in the day. What had Jebediah told the citizens to win their favor?

The minutes from the previous meeting were approved, and a treasurer’s report was read, giving the amount raised to date minus expenses and including the profits from the bake sale on Sunday. Lorelei was impressed with the strict professionalism of the meeting, and the fact that a dinky little bake sale in a church hall could raise four hundred dollars. But the funds raised to date were under four thousand total, which left them far from the goal of twenty grand. According to Granny, the group hoped to reach that goal by Labor Day so they could begin repairs before winter set in.

There was no way that was going to happen without a massive fund-raiser. Something more than cookies and cakes and crochet purses for sale. Lorelei was contemplating ways to raise a significantly higher amount in less time when Spencer was called to address the room. He strolled to the front carrying blueprints and looking like a man who knew what he was doing. Even in high school, Spencer had been confident in who he was and what he wanted. That had been one of the
reasons Lorelei was so drawn to him. He’d never been needy, and he’d never expected her to cater to him. They’d been the perfect match in every way.

Until they weren’t.

Spencer used pins to hang the blueprints on the wall for the attendees to see. Then he adjusted the microphone and gave his spiel about the changes he’d made to the design and why. The biggest change had been to the roof for the purpose of ensuring the holes that had developed in the current structure wouldn’t happen again, which made sense to Lorelei, so she didn’t imagine anyone would disagree.

“How much more is that going to cost?” asked Jebediah, his voice less than supportive.

Spencer didn’t falter. “There would be a slight increase, but the repair funds this would save down the road should balance out.”

“You say ‘should,’” the older man replied. “What if it doesn’t?”

A muscle tightened along Spencer’s jaw. Lorelei doubted anyone else noticed. “I can’t guarantee a tornado won’t rip through town and take the roof off, but as with any building, I can design the best plan to protect the structure going forward.”

That seemed to appease the mayor, but two minutes later he chimed in again. Spencer was talking about the marquee, suggesting they save the current one instead of replacing it with something new, as had apparently been suggested previously.

“Isn’t the point of this renovation to make the theater more modern so the public will want to use it?” Winkle asked.

“If we follow the plan, the theater will be equipped with the latest cinema technology, including a new digital projector. We’re also upgrading the lobby, but there’s no need to alter the facade of the entrance when the current marquee provides ample room to display all the information necessary for guests to know what movies are showing.” Turning Jebediah’s money concerns back on him, Spencer added,
“This is the perfect place to save funds that can be better spent elsewhere on the project.”

“I don’t remember these changes being discussed at a previous meeting.”

“They weren’t.” Spencer’s jaw tic became more noticeable with every question Jebediah asked. Not that the last comment had been phrased as a question.

“You seem to be making a lot of changes without discussing them with others first. Adding things that aren’t wanted.” As he said the last sentence, Jebediah’s eyes cut to Lorelei and held, boring holes into her skull as if he were holding a blowtorch against her temple.

This was the reaction she’d expected, and boy, did Jebediah know how to project hate. She could feel it sliding over her in waves, as if he would smite her on the spot for doing little more than existing.

“Mayor Winkle,” Spencer said, “as I recall, you joined this project nearly six months
after
its inception. And we welcomed you with open arms. Our goal here is to save the Ruby Theater, and I’m sure others will agree that we’re happy to accept the help of anyone willing to offer their time and energy. However, if you feel you can no longer be a part of the process, feel free to remove yourself from this meeting. No one is expected to stay against his will, nor will anyone willing to join us be turned away.”

Silence fell over the room as if the Grim Reaper had walked through the door. Even the diners in the main room seemed to have stilled their forks. Winkle transferred his gaze to Spencer, looking like a man about to call another out in a duel. Lorelei had no intention of being the reason this project imploded. She’d leave before letting that happen.

But when she moved to push her chair back, Granny stopped her.

After what felt like an hour, but was only seconds, Jebediah Winkle smiled. “By all means, anyone who wants to help is welcome. And if these changes to the structure that you propose will benefit the project,
they need to be taken into consideration.” Though he’d slipped on a pleasant, cooperative mask, the mayor’s tone made it clear he wasn’t conceding anything regarding the structural changes.

The mayor didn’t spare Lorelei so much as a glance for the rest of the meeting. He may have backed down tonight, but Lorelei had no illusions about this being the end of it. If anything, this was only the beginning.