I look into the nine or ten faces of women seated on couches and mismatched chairs that have probably been hauled in from other parts of the house. Waving at them, I say, “Thanks for having me tonight.”
“Dakota is here for some research,” Ashley tells the group as she refills a glass of white wine. “She’s building property on the edge of town and wants to know what we’d like to see built.”
“I’m one of a few companies looking to buy property that’s for sale,” I clarify. “It’s not a for sure thing, but I’ve told the seller I’ll bring them some ideas for what I’d put on the land. They don’t want to see it made into a strip mall filled with chain stores, and I agree with their opinion.” I look out at the woman and spot Stacia among them. With a small smile and a nod in her direction, I ask, “So please feel free to share with me your thoughts on how you’d like to see the land developed.”
They all start talking at once. There are suddenly so many voices filling the small room, it’s like taking the lid off a stockpot of boiling water.
One woman wants to see an equestrian center.
Another would love a nature conservatory.
Someone else mentions tourism, which gets me thinking. Tourism brings money and creates jobs. The weather in the Verde Valley, where Sierra Grande sits around other small towns, is fairly consistent all year long. I know because the dear old internet told me so.
Suggestions fly at me at warp speed, and I write them all down on the small notebook I pulled from my purse, but my mind is stuck on the tourism idea.
Book club begins, and it’s not a book I’ve read, which isn’t a problem because I’m busy mentally sifting through ideas.
When the book has been discussed, and the ladies are all two or three drinks deep, the gossip begins. And the first topic is, shockingly,me.
“So.” One woman, Sarah, turns and casts a curious look at me. “A little birdie told me Wes Hayden was in town with a beautiful young woman today. Any chance that woman was you?”
I give her a teasing look. “Are you calling me beautiful?”
She snorts with laughter. “I suppose. So? Was it you? Is someone finally going to tame that wild stallion?”
“It’s Hayden land that’s for sale, Sarah,” a woman across the circle speaks up. “My husband told me so.”
They all look to me and I nod my confirmation. “He was showing me the land this morning, and we came into town so I could meet Stacia and ultimately end up here tonight with all of you.”
“Sounds to me like a romance novel,” another woman crows, and two other ladies laugh. “Next you’ll be knocking boots.”
We already have.
I keep the thought to myself and laugh along with them. “You have very active imaginations.”
“My daughter went to high school with him,” the woman besides Stacia says. “She says he was crazy and fun back then, the life of the party. She tried to reconnect with him when he got home from the Army, but he was different. She said the light in his eyes was gone.”
The room grows quiet, and then the woman who made the comment about the romance novel says cheerfully, “Maybe Dakota can turn the light back on.”
I smile and laugh at her suggestion, and the chatter resumes. It moves away from me and Wes, thank God, and on to some other poor soul.
I use the break to follow Ashley into the kitchen where she’s removing plastic wrap from a plate of cookies.
“Thank you for having me tonight. I’m going to take off. I have a lot of work to do ahead of my meeting with the Haydens in the morning.”
She lifts the tray and turns to me. “I hope you got what you came for.”
I nod vigorously. There are so many ideas bouncing around in my head right now, it’s hard to think straight. “I did.”
Ashley dips her chin at the tray she’s holding. “Take a cookie. Marjorie makes them herself.”
I remove a toffee cookie and take a bite. “Oh my God,” I mumble, brushing crumbs from my lips. “Those are incredible.”
“Yep,” she agrees, leading the way back into the living room. “And they’re about to disappear. Marjorie has been trying to think of a way to sell them and make some money, but she hasn’t figured it out yet. Right, Marjorie?” Ashley looks at the woman on the other side of Stacia as she slides the platter onto the coffee table.
“That’s right. For now, it’s the book club who gets the fruits of my labor.”
“Well, thank you, Marjorie, for the delicious cookie.” I hold up the toffee cookie in my hand. “And thank you, everyone, for having me tonight. Thanks to all your suggestions, I have a lot of work to do now.” I wave at them all and let myself out. Once I’m in my car, I gobble the cookie like I didn’t just eat dinner a couple hours ago. It’s that damn good.
