King Construction—the company Nash ran with his daddy—employed all kinds of tradespeople. Many of whom had either been traveling to nearby towns for work, or worse, had been out of it entirely. And right now, those people were earning a wage right there in Havenbrook. In a prime location on the square—the last missing piece in an almost revived downtown.
But there’d be no trying to convince her daddy of that. According to him, Finn Thomas and his brother had trouble written all over them, had from the day they’d been born. No amount of words on Willow’s part would make him change his mind, so she wasn’t going to try.
Instead, she said, “I’d hoped you’d be able to enjoy your conference before comin’ home to that news.”
“You didn’t think it was pertinent information for themayorto have? Sometimes I wonder what goes through that mind of yours…” He shook his head while Willow bit her tongue.
Deep breaths, in and out. Right then was not the time to get into it. What she needed to do was smooth his ruffled feathers, and then attack her mile-long to-do list. She’d planned to have the Fourth of July signage done up and posted before he’d gotten back, and that plan was now shot to hell. Plus, she needed to tend to the empty planters since Miss Clementine broke her hip and hadn’t been able to fulfill her landscaping committee duties. Willow only hoped he was too preoccupied to notice. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep biting her tongue if she got ripped into for that too.
He stepped closer to her, his mouth set in a tight line. Her daddy wasn’t a tall man—well under six feet—but his presence filled up a room. Whether it was with jovial banter or scathing looks, the effect was the same: it was damn near impossible to ignore Richard Haven when in his company.
“What’s this I hear about you helpin’ get the paperwork all done up for thoseboys?” He sneered the word, as if he were talking about some rebellious teenagers and not nearly thirty-year-old men who were now business owners.
And she had no idea how to answer that question. Of course she’d been helping them. It was herjobto help with paperwork, answer any questions new business owners had, and guide them through regulations, Thomas boys or not. And if she hadn’t done her job, her daddy wouldn’t have had any problem at all holding it over her head. Damned if she did, damned if she didn’t, just like always.
She kept the smile on her face, though it felt brittle. “That’s my job, Daddy.”
“Yourjobis to make sure the mayor looks good. That’s why I went against my instincts and hired you instead of Jeff, figuring you’d at least make sure the Haven name wasn’t dragged through the mud.” He huffed, smoothing a hand down his loosened tie, doing nothing to help the wrinkled shirt underneath. “You think having a bar in a prime location in the square shines a positive light on me and this town?”
Yes, as a matter of fact, she did. Willow’d had Avery pull some numbers over the past week in preparation for having this exact conversation with her daddy, comparing Havenbrook’s information to the demographics of Parkersville, the next biggest town over. She’d hoped showing him the information in black and white would help calm him. But even if she’d had it ready and with her now, it wouldn’t have mattered. She’d underestimated just how pissed off he’d be.
There was no denying the truth, though: the bar was the breath of fresh air their dying town needed. Havenbrook was hemorrhaging residents, mostly of the younger generation, fewer and fewer of Willow’s classmates or surrounding years’ sticking around in a dead-end town with nothing keeping them there. And it was because they could get the same small-town feel with added benefits not far away. Whywouldn’tthey go? She wanted to stop that if she could, and she had a feeling this was a good step in the right direction.
This town was in her family’s blood, and she loved it with all of her being. She loved the people who cared without question—even if they did get into her business more than she’d like—and she loved that she knew the story of every historical landmark in the square, and she loved that she couldn’t go to the grocery store without running into at least one person who wanted to ask about her day. She didn’t want Havenbrook to be perfect like her daddy did; she wanted it tothrive.
She wasn’t naïve enough to think a single bar could do that, but it could go a long way in making sure the residents stuck around instead of spending their time and money in another county. Now, when they wanted a drink after work, they’d head into the square to get it. The bar would make money, and the trio of owners would pay their taxes, thus bringing in more revenue for Havenbrook. It was a win-win for them, even if her daddy couldn’t see it just yet.
But he was blind to things like that, too stuck in his ways to believe things were changing. If they didn’t change along with them, the town that was their namesake would continue to shrivel until it was just a forgotten dot on the map. She wasn’t going to let that happen, even if that meant standing up for the bar coming into town, standing up for Finn. Even if that meant pushing back with her daddy.
She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “First of all, you hired me because I was better qualified for the job. Jeff is a janitor at the elementary school, and I’m sure he does a fantastic job there. But to have you say he would’ve handled this position better than me is insulting.”
She wanted to say more, wanted to tell him she’d worked her ass off for him and this town for the past five years. And she’d done a damn good job of it. Would it hurt him to recognize that? But she had more pressing issues right then. “And I think having a thriving business bringing in both revenue and jobs—not to mention giving us an increase in taxes for things like new parks and better roads—is a good thing for the mayor, but more importantly for the town. No matterwhatthe business is.”
Her daddy jerked his head back, eyes wide. Probably because Willow could count on one hand the number of times she’d stood up to him, and most of them had been during her teenage years. He narrowed his eyes, his jaw going tight. “You know damn well I don’t like that kind of business. Or that boy.”
Understatement of the century. He’d tried to keep them apart when they’d been teenagers, though he hadn’t quite managed. Even if he’d done everything in his power to keep them from seeing each other, she and Finn had worked at the same place, and her daddy hadn’t been able to stop that, no matter how powerful he was.
“That may be the case,” she said, “but they’ve done everything above board. Went through the right paths, secured all the proper permits, even verified with the historical society about the items they’ll need to be careful on to follow regulation. They’re doing everything properly, Daddy.”
She waited for him to argue more, but he only stared at her for a moment, his face getting redder, before he grunted.
“Now that I’m here, I might as well get to work.”
“Don’t you wanna go home and change?”
“Apparently, I don’t have time since it looks like you didn’t do much of anything while I was gone. Spend all your time paintin’ your nails or what? Those damn toys from Tina’s day care were all over the side parking lot, not put away like they’re supposed to be. The tables at the cafe are blocking the sidewalks again. And for God’s sake, when the hell are those planters gonna get filled? I thought that was supposed to be completed this week? If you don’t get it done, I’ll get someone in here who will.” With that, he turned around and shuffled into his office, slamming the door behind him and dismissing her without so much as a word.
Willow stood there for a solid three minutes, staring at the dark wood of the door her daddy had shut between them, her hands clenched at her sides. It was getting more and more painful to bite her tongue around him. But she’d been raised with the knowledge that their family was as close to royalty as Havenbrook was ever going to get, her great-great-great-granddad founding it in 1867. Because of that, all four girls had been raised knowing there was an invisible line they needed to toe. And they were, undernocircumstances, allowed to back talk their daddy—in public or private.
After twenty-eight years, it was ingrained deeply in Willow’s psyche. But every time he said something like that, belittling her and cutting her down to size, she got a little more pissed.
And a little more determined to prove him wrong.
With a fire burning under her skin, she turned and stalked toward her office, stopping short when she got into the hallway to find she wasn’t alone.
“Finn,” she said, breathless. She glanced back toward her daddy’s office, then at Finn’s face—the tightness of his jaw, the rigid set of his shoulders. There was no doubt in her mind he’d heard what her daddy had said—she just didn’t know how much. “What can I help you with?” she asked, polite smile in place.
What she desperately wanted to do was sweep her eyes down his body, take in the clothes he wore, decide if she liked them better or worse than what he’d been wearing last night. But she couldn’t focus on holding it together in the face of her father’s cutting-down if she got distracted by all of Finn’s…Finn-ness.
