“But it’s getting so good!” Hannah didn’t even turn away from the screen.
“I’ll catch up later.” I pulled on some sneakers and a light jacket and headed out the door. A brisk walk always cleared my mind.
But even the exercise didn’t work today. I couldn’t stop thinking about Colt. Maybe I should call him again? We’d spoken exactly twice since Demolition Monday. That was five days ago. I’d called him from the site, tears streaming down my face but my voice tight and controlled. And I’d taken his call later that day, as well. But that had been the last one.
I’d spoken words I couldn’t even really follow up on. Our lawyers would get in touch with his. It was something I’d heard in a movie sometime.
As if. I’d assumed I’d have others wanting to fight this fight along with me, other interested parties and together we’d mount a legal defense. But alone? How was I supposed to scrape together legal fees? And I didn’t even know who to go to. Should I google “reliable attorney” and see what I came up with in the area? And it didn’t take a genius to figure Colt’s billion-dollar enterprise probably had a pretty strong legal team associated with it. He probably knew half of them from his days at Harvard.
I hated him so much. If only I could keep that thought at the forefront of my brain at night, too. During the day I had enough to keep me busy and enough reminders of his betrayal it wasn’t too hard. And if I felt myself wavering, I could always drive over and go visit the rubble. Or I could call up my mother. She loved trashing Colt.
I clicked on her name in my phone, putting in my earbuds so I could walk while we talked.
“How’s my baby?” she asked. So affectionate since I’d gone down in that plane crash.
“All right. I’m taking a walk. I’m frustrated, though. I’m not getting any answers about my store.”
“Those corporate assholes are all alike!” She launched into her rant, as expected. “Every single one of them is on the take!”
“I think they might have given the other business owner in our strip advance warning.”
“They might have.” She warmed instantly to the idea. She’d never met a conspiracy theory she didn’t like. “They probably didn’t even try with you because they knew you couldn’t be bought.”
“It would have been nice if they’d tried!” I joked. Mostly joked. If Joyce had gotten tipped off and maybe even paid off, that would explain why she wasn’t up in arms. I’d be a lot less upset if I had money on hand to start up in a new location.
“Swines, all of them!” I could picture my mom sweeping her hand expansively over her head as she spoke. “You should come here and live with us for a while. Take yourself out of the dog-eat-dog world.”
“Don’t think so, Mom. Thanks.” I’d visited them at the nudist colony for artists once. I’d regretted it ever since. Some images could not be unseen.
“There’s a man out here we’d love you to meet. He’s a potter. You should see his work.”
“Does he wear any clothes?” I already knew the answer. I couldn’t shake the visual of a guy working at a spinning potter’s wheel naked. Couldn’t that get dangerous? Dangling bits and all?
“He’s free from the constraints of conventional society, if that’s what you mean.”
“Oops, sorry, got to go, thanks!”
I ended the call with my mom, wondering if maybe I should have called Colt instead. At least he wouldn’t have tried to set me up with a nude potter. Although a nude potter probably wouldn’t have bulldozed my store to the ground. Maybe I needed to rethink my value system.
When I returned, Hannah was still glued to the couch. But she directed my attention over to the kitchen counter. “I signed for you!”
I had a FedEx delivery, signature required. Inside I found a handwritten note from Colt, inviting me to a Monday morning meeting at the Chamber of Commerce. “Please come,” he urged me. “You need to hear this.”
Grumbling, I resisted the temptation to ball it up and throw it out. Or feed it into a paper shredder, that would be satisfyingly symbolic. Only we didn’t have a paper shredder. And I wondered, what was this meeting on Monday? I guessed I’d have to find out.
§
Colt was already there when I walked into the room. I didn’t make eye contact. But I didn’t need to, to feel his presence. I remembered how when I’d first met him he’d reminded me of Superman, that dark hair with the bright blue eyes and strong chin. Hadn’t Superman had x-ray vision, too? I could sure feel the intensity of his gaze, like he was looking right through my clothing.
I sat down, and thankfully Hannah was with me, as was Joyce her boss.
“Where have you been?” I whispered to Joyce, leaning toward her.
“Busy,” she answered, vaguely. If you searched for images of “guilty” online, a picture of her face would come right up. She looked miserable. Conspiracy theory suspicions confirmed.
“Thank you all for joining us here today.” Some man in a suit I’d never seen before stood at the front of the room to address our group of fifteen or so attendees. The environmental protesters, some town politicians plus the few, the sad, the displaced: us small business people.
“We’ve got a lot to cover, so I’ll jump right into it.” He introduced himself as a partner in the new architectural firm in charge of the project. And then he unveiled the plans to open a world class eco-resort right here in Redwood Bay. Kavanaugh Investors had secured a partnership with an aquarium to open a coastal satellite, complete with interactive features like tide pooling and scuba diving.
“It’s the next big thing,” he told us, “the nexus of recreation and conservation.” A portion of all revenue generated through stays at the resort would be donated to sustainable seas. Guests would also have access to all of the luxuries of a five star resort, in addition to all of the unique environmental features.
It sounded amazing. And it had to have taken a lot of work, likely in place before the whole shop-wrecking incident. When had Colt first started the planning process?
I snuck a glance at him and he was gazing right at me, intent. I looked away again. It was too hazardous. He was too hot. And I still felt way too much for him, all my emotions right at the surface, positive
and negative all duking it out.
“And for those of you involved with the unfortunate incident last week, the small business owners of Redwood Bay. We’d like to offer an apology. A sincere one. And more than that, we want to help you rebuild your businesses.”
A collective gasp ran through the room as he began projecting images onto the screen behind him. A showroom straight out of a SoHo boutique, gleaming hardwood floors and lighting and space to spare. A bakery as clean, bright and inviting as any I’d ever seen with a state-of-the art kitchen.
The presentation ended to resounding applause. He’d definitely won over the crowd. Personally, I felt too confused to make sense of anything.
The architect promised us many more opportunities for input into the planning, as well as the build phase of the proposed projects. Next steps were agreed upon. Hands were shaken. I sat dazed in my seat.
“I’m sorry, Carrie. I thought they’d called you, too, before demolition started.” Joyce leaned over to me before she stood to leave the room. “I felt awful when I saw all your stuff boxed up under that tarp.”
“No, no one called to warn me.” I said it to her, but I looked over at Colt. He heard me, too. And he winced.
The two of us sat as everyone else stood and filed out. Hannah left, too, after giving me, then Colt, significant glances.
As soon as the last straggler left the room, Colt spoke. “It never should have happened, Caroline. I’ve been sick over it. I had no idea they were going to demolish your store.”
I could feel relief coursing through me. Slowly. My trust in him had taken quite a hit. But this presentation went a lot further to restore it than his confused words over the last week.
“You’re going to build me a new store?”
“The store of your dreams.”
I nodded, starting to believe it. “So what do we do next? Where do we go from here?” I’d had the store in mind as I’d spoken, but the minute the words were out of my mouth they took on a whole new meaning. What was our future, exactly?