“Hi. Um. Call me Laurel, please.”
He beamed. “Of course. Laurel. You might not remember me. Oliver Klondike. I work at the town hall.”
“I remember. You wanted to talk more about, eh, forest conservation.”
“Whenever it’s convenient. I know you’re busy.”
“Not that busy. I’m on vacation.”
“Oh, that’s great. I bet you need it after your big tour.”
I made a noncommittal sound.
Oliver shifted from foot to foot, and the movement inevitably drew my gaze to his pregnant stomach. Since we were in Beauville, he was probably having a kid with a bear shifter. Or was he a shifter himself? How far along was he? And why did I care?
“So, could we book a meeting sometime?” he asked.
Cringing, I tore my eyes off his belly. Just the words “book a meeting” had me wanting to run for cover, but this was about my forest.
“I think so. I guess I could have my lawyer on a video call.”
“That would be amazing. See, not much has changed in Beauville since the eighties, and we’re playing catch-up. We’ve updated the zoning laws and are trying to find common ground with our biggest landowners on tourism and conservation efforts. Monty is on board and helped us a lot with new hiking trails, but it would be great to have your perspective as well.”
Monty? What did Monty have to do with conservation around Beauville?
“Sure. Yeah,” I mumbled.
Not that I had any plans or opinions. If it meant people would give my chalet a wide berth, I’d surround it with the highest-protection national park, or hell, a bear sanctuary. That should go over well with the locals.
Oliver Klondike smiled like the sun, his freckled cheeks bunching up, as he dug something out of his deep coat pocket.
“Can I contact your assistant about this? He’s called me looking for contractors, so I still have his number in my history, I think. I swear I won’t bug you with anything outside of the town hall matters. Or could you give me your email address? I don’t want to bother Calvin again.”
Calvin had acted as a messenger when the Beauville residents freaked out about me buying the land. I had been in Europe then, but now I was here.
“You can have my private number.”
Oliver blinked. “Are you sure?”
He seemed okay. A bit too perky for my taste, but okay. He didn’t give off a psycho vibe, and besides, Calvin was friends with him, which felt like a good enough endorsement.
“Yeah. I’m sure.”
I dictated my digits, reading them from my phone. I’d changed numbers often and never remembered them.
Oliver sent me a text with his name in it.
“Wonderful. Thank you so much, Mr. Ri… Laurel.”
“No problem. I’m going to…” I jabbed a thumb in the direction I’d been headed before. I didn’t know why I’d done that. Not like I had anything on my schedule.
Smiling pleasantly, Oliver stuck out his hand. “I’ll be in touch. Like I said, great to have you in Beauville, Laurel. And don’t hesitate to contact me if you need anything. We all help each other around here.”
I gave his hand a proper squeeze, and his smile widened.Use his first name. He’ll like you more.I’d learned those things working with teams on tour.
“Thanks, Oliver.”
“Have a lovely day!” he chirped. Then he waltzed back into the pharmacy, presumably to continue shopping for sex stuff.
