I felt safe.
I felt as if his hold was a piece of a puzzle I’d been missing, sliding back into place. Which made no sense at all, and I put it down to, way too much champagne.
The song came to an end far too quickly and I waited for another to start so we could keep dancing.
“Excuse me, may I have your attention, please?” A male’s voice said over the speaker. He swaggered across the stage, holding a microphone. He wore a black suit, with a white shirt and gold tie. The crowd quietened immediately and the music didn’t come back on.
“Who’s that?” I whispered, reluctantly stepping back.
“That is the not-so-honorable Mr. Jefferson.” Karson didn’t keep his tone low. A muscle in his jaw twitched. I dragged my gaze from his face, trying to concentrate on what was being said, but it was hard with a temple of testosterone smoldering at my side.
“As you know, tonight is our annual fundraiser to send underprivileged students to college,” Jefferson said, “and you will be pleased to know, so far we have raised more than twenty thousand dollars.”
The crowd applauded. He waited for a long moment, reveling in the approval, then waved his hands toward the floor to silence everyone.
“There are still items for sale in the side room, including paintings by renowned artist Florence Griffin. Please, if you haven’t already, browse our selection and pop your tender down.” He paused, drew a breath, then threw his hands out wide and roared, “Let’s get to fifty thousand!”
The crowd clapped and cheered. A whistle came from the other side of the room. I glanced across and Georgie had her fingers in her mouth, her cheeks bubbled out, and another whistle sailed through the air. Jodie gave her a nudge with her elbow. BJ looked amused. Gina had her resting bitch face on. BJ leaned down and spoke to her, and when she looked up, she gave him a smile full of sugar and spice.
Jefferson waited until the applause stopped before he spoke, “I have a big announcement to make. As you all know, our beloved town has struggled economically for a few years now.” He dropped his voice low, seeming sad, but it felt disingenuous. “Shops are empty, people have lost jobs. Many of our loved ones have been forced to move away.”
The crowd murmured in agreement.
“But I’m here to tell you no more.” He raised his voice. “We have a plan and a vision that will lift this town out of despair and into a thriving and vibrant metropolis once again. So without further ado, I would like to introduce the instigator of this vision, Kurt Cole, a respected businessman from Memphis.”
The whole room erupted, clapping and cheering.
A short, plump, gray-haired man walked across the stage. He fiddled with his jacket button, sucking in a belly intent on escaping, and clasped the jacket closed. He lowered the mic, and it screeched across the room, sending shards of steel straight through my bones.
I cringed. Karson glanced down, and I mouthed, “Who’s that?”
“Just some pompous ass who made his money treading all over people.”
He turned back to the stage, his eyes fixed on Cole, his jaw tight. I wanted to reach up and trace my fingers over its outline, or take his hand clenched by his side and twine my fingers through his. I clasped my hands together in front of me instead.
“Thank you. Most of you know who I am, and for those that don’t, you soon will.” He smiled through thin lips. “For now, all you need to know is I’m here to create jobs, to bring prosperity back to this beautiful town you all call home, and to make it great again.” He paused, taking the microphone out of the stand, and again it squealed in protest. My teeth clanked together as he paced to the left. “We have plans to build a resort so big, and so exclusive, it’ll bring thousands of cashed-up tourists to your town every year, and we all know what tourists do.” He stopped, throwing out his arm. “They spend!” He turned and paced in slow, thoughtful steps back to the stand, like some huge stage production. “There will be world-class restaurants, with the famous chef, Mr. Migetto, already indicating he’ll move here.”
The crowd murmured. I hadn’t heard of the chef, but I assumed he was a big deal. Cole waited for the murmurs to cease and went on. “We will have a luxury retreat, and a world-class golf course, and, if we get the go ahead, I will give a token of my appreciation to every existing business”—he paused, and I half expected him to ask for a drum roll—“in the form of twenty thousand dollars each, to renovate their shops to help make them the standard they’ll need to be.”
Wild cheers drowned the room, and clapping erupted like thunder. Jefferson and Cole stood side by side, like rock stars at a concert, soaking up the adoration of screaming fans. After some time, Jefferson waved his hands down again, and the crowd settled.
Someone from the crowd yelled out, “Where exactly will it go?”
“That’s a good question.” Cole lifted the mic up. “It will be built in Rutherford’s Forestry Estate.”
Many stopped applauding abruptly, and those who remained clapping were mostly younger. A distinctly unpleasant energy stifled the air.
“Over my dead body!” someone yelled. The applause shuddered to a halt. I looked in the direction of the outburst and found Luke Toronto, eyes blazing. “You.” He stabbed his finger at Cole. “Will not destroy lands of cultural heritage, the history, or the wildlife. They are our lands, and you will not get your grubby little hands on them.”
Cindy, dressed in pale blue, clutched at his arm, muttering something to him, but his eyes never left Cole. A hush fell over the entire room.
Cole straightened and his eyes narrowed. “Only someone lacking intellect would critic an investment he hadn’t bothered to educate themselves on.”
Luke snorted. “And only the morally bankrupt would destroy a pristine environment for something as pathetic and shallow as greed.”
“I’m sure some of the locals would disagree, they want to put food on their tables, they want their children to be able to stay home and have a career instead of being forced to move away.” He scanned the room looking for support, but only a few nodded, including Ron.
“I hope you have your funeral planned,” Luke sneered, “because if you take one step up there, that’s exactly what you’re going to need.”
