The Story Of Us - Teri Wilson Page 0,44

the redevelopment talks, perhaps the best way to persuade the others to take a stand against Ridley was to remind them how much their businesses meant to them.

“Look, you all know how much I loved my bookstore, even before it was mine.” She pressed her hands to her heart. True Love Books was a part of her. Without it, she’d be lost, and she knew she couldn’t be the only one who felt that way about his or her business. “But I believe all of you love your stores just as much.”

A hush fell over their little group, until Olga reached out to squeeze Jamie’s hand. “I’ve been in the same dance studio for over twenty years. I don’t know where I’d be without it.”

“Right. And if we are all one voice at that council vote, maybe you won’t have to, Olga,” Jamie said.

Hope fluttered inside her. Maybe, just maybe, her words were starting to sink in. She searched the faces of her friends surrounding her, and there was a newfound spark of determination in just about everyone’s expression.

With one exception. “What’s on your mind, Chuck?”

He looked far too sheepish all of a sudden and couldn’t seem to bring himself to meet her gaze.

Please, please, please don’t let that mean what I think it means.

Chuck took a deep, pained breath and finally looked her in the eye. “Well…”

The morning after his lunch date with Jamie and the meeting at the pizzeria, Sawyer was back in the business district, ready to continue his campaign to win hearts and change minds. Now that he had at least one business owner on his side, he hoped others would follow.

The council members would be the ones casting the actual votes, but the thought of the town council going forward with the project against opposition from the shop keepers made his stomach churn. He knew he shouldn’t feel that way—not when he firmly believed that the plan was the best thing for Waterford. If the re-design didn’t go through, the business district’s slow decline would continue and all the shops would close, one by one, until there was nothing left. He’d seen this kind of thing happen over and over again. Revitalizing areas like Waterford was part of his job, and he was quite good at it. The project should be a home run for everyone. The shop owners would get a generous buyout, the town would get a bustling business district again, and he’d get just the kind of job he’d been hoping for.

And yet, he couldn’t find a way to feel totally comfortable with the situation. Maybe because the line between personal and business was becoming blurrier by the second. He cared about this town in a way that he’d never cared about another project before—and he cared about the people involved…maybe more than he should.

Yesterday had been a good day, though. A very good day. Chuck and his dad had seen the light, which meant things were finally looking up and there was a chance he could get his job done without breaking any hearts.

Other than the most important one of all.

An ache settled in the back of his throat every time he thought about Jamie. He told himself she could rebuild. She could reopen True Love Books in one of the retail spaces of the multi-use complex he’d planned. Or if she truly couldn’t stand his design—and part of him winced at that thought—she could find a new location. But he’d been in town for days already and she was more resolute than ever. She’d never give up her original bookshop without a fight.

Sawyer stopped in front of Waterford’s old theatre building to admire its architecture—its stone facade and rough-hewn arched doorway. He’d always been passionate about the details that made up a building. He loved the way that simple things like brick and mortar came together to form something bigger and grander than the sum of its parts. The pieces of Waterford came together in a way that he’d always found beautiful and special. But that didn’t mean change was necessarily bad. He just needed to keep reminding himself that what he was doing was a good thing. The right thing.

Whether Jamie agreed with him or not.

He resumed walking, picking up his pace, but his cell phone rang before he reached the next street corner. He dug around in the pocket of his peacoat for it and, for a split second, fantasized that maybe the call would be from her.

It