She had what she needed. She’d done some research. The northern spotted owl was federally protected as a threatened species. She’d seen the job site—the construction wouldn’t go near the nesting ground, and Eddie’s project wasn’t nearly big enough to be a threat, anyhow. But still, she knew it’d be enough to put a hold on their work for a good, long while. She could stop the construction.
But would she?
She could make a stink about it. Notify environmental groups. Call television stations in Reno, get it on the evening news. Just one hint of bad press, and she had no doubt Fairview would pull out. They’d spent years, not to mention a bundle of marketing dollars, pitching smaller, boutique resorts just like this one as eco-friendly destinations. Tourists came from all over to meditate and get back to nature, all the while dishing out beaucoup bucks for things like mud facials and seaweed wraps.
She could make a stink, and Fairview would pull out, removing all competition for the lodge. The Bailey family business could continue to thrive.
But at what cost to Eddie?
“Heya, Lola. ”
She sighed. Dan. The last person she felt like seeing just then, and she forced tired cheer into her voice. “Done filming for the day?”
She tore into a big bag of Chex Mix and considered her conundrum as she filled several bowls for the evening tavern crowd. She could make a fuss, but she had a new perspective now. If Fairview pulled out, it’d cut into Eddie’s bottom line. It would also take food, savings, and security from Jack’s family.
Worst, it would take away from the at-risk kids in Reno—kids who’d lost so much already.
“Ooh, gimme. ” Dan leaned on the bar, reaching for the snacks. “I’m going to miss all this middle-America awesomeness. ” He pulled a bowl his way and shoved a fistful into his mouth. “I’m starving. We took off a day of filming to, you know, explore. Dude, have you been to Silver Town?”
“Silver City? Of course I have. ” Stopping Fairview had been all she’d wanted—could she let it go now? She remembered her talk with Sorrow…the family business would probably survive a little competition, especially because the two properties were so different.
“I swear, we had the worst sushi ever. We went to some place…what was it called? The Sushi Zone,” he exclaimed. Dan snagged another handful of snacks, then added in a mocking voice, “We were…in the zone…the sushi zone. ”
“Yeah? How was it?” She wiped down the counter for the third time, mostly to appear busy to the producer. She really needed silence to think this through.
There was the whole environmental question still to consider. Of course, she could just discuss it with Eddie. Maybe she should. He’d make sure to give the owls a wide berth. The impact would be negligible.
But he was Mister Outdoors Guy. If he knew those owls were special, he’d stop the work until he could sort it all out. More than that, if he knew they were protected by law, he’d halt construction all together.
Did she want to be responsible for the loss to his business? Worse, might he think this was just another ruse on her part, another way to hound him?
“Did you hear me?” Dan asked, chomping away.
“Did you want a beer?”
“Oh, yeah, that, too, thanks. But I was saying there was mayo on the sashimi rice. Actual mayonnaise. The ahi was chewy, and you know they only had that gross crab stick stuff on the Cali roll. ”
“Gross,” she said distractedly. No wonder they were taking so long to film if Dan was having his crew drive all over creation in search of raw fish. When would they be done, anyway? They hadn’t even gotten any lodge footage, which she’d been hoping for. It’d all been shots of the town, the falls, interviews with the community. They must’ve had hours of B-roll by now.
“Dude, how can you live here without decent sushi?” He sounded outraged, and just then it struck her as so ridiculous.
“I find a way to carry on,” she said drily.
“The last time I had food that crappy was at The Supermarket. You heard of it? It’s the new place on Melrose. They serve only food purchased from grocery stores…like an ironic statement about the global economy. You get it?”
She struggled to open a jar of cocktail onions. “Sorry, get what?”
“The Supermarket. ”
Her cell rang, and she answered without thinking. Dammit. She’d been too distracted and had forgotten she was screening. Now she had to deal with her old CEO—as if she didn’t have enough on her plate at that moment.
“Hold on,” she told him and, putting a hand over the phone, said to Dan, “Ask Sorrow. She can tell you how to get there. ”
“Get where?”
“The supermarket. ”
“What? No. No, no, dude. The Supermarket is a restaurant in LA. Anyway, I’ll let you get that. ” He waved at her phone. “I’ll wait. ”