Andre wasn’t immediately next to her. Still, her gaze darted to him before focusing on the investor, a guy named Kevin Bronson, who was the city’s partner in the redevelopment project. Even with her sitting at the table with everyone’s attention directed her way, there was no spark of recognition in Andre’s face. No quick smile of greeting. Nope. Instead, his eyes studied her sweater while his full lips twisted before he introduced himself.
“I’m Andre Kemp, the general contractor on the project.” His voice was smooth and deep. His eyes met hers briefly during his introduction.
She looked away quickly to the next person. Devante Thompson, a subcontractor under Andre and another Peachtree Cove local. She smiled as pride filled her chest. She could have gone her entire life without seeing Andre Kemp again, but she couldn’t deny it was great to know people from Peachtree Cove were working as subcontractors on this project rather than a bunch of outsiders coming in and disregarding the town’s unique quirkiness.
Once the introductions were completed, Tamara led everyone through the steps of the project and asked each member of the team to go over what Kevin and Andre would need to submit before work began.
The meeting ended after an hour, and everyone seemed pleased with the outcome. She stood and spoke with Kevin, who had a few more questions about permits. She glanced at Andre again. They’d sat in a room for an hour now. He must have recognized her. Their friendship may have ended before they’d entered high school, but was he really going to pretend as if he had no clue who she was? She had to admit he’d impressed her during the meeting. He obviously knew what he was doing and didn’t give the impression that he was going to give her team a hard time. Despite how she’d felt about him in high school, she was pleased to learn that they would be dealing with a decent contractor. Maybe after all these years they could put their old rift behind them. She’d never understood why he’d cut her off so quickly and seemed to want to downright avoid her at all costs, but now they were adults and could hopefully have a cordial, professional relationship.
Andre shook Robert’s hand before going out of the conference room without a backward glance. Guess that was her answer. Didn’t matter anyway. As the planning director, she’d spend most of her time talking to Kevin as the project developer and less time with Andre, who’d deal primarily with the field inspectors. If he could pretend as if they hadn’t played together as kids when she’d visited her cousins who lived in the house next to him and his parents, then so could she.
She left the conference room with Kevin and walked him back to the lobby. She was surprised to see Miriam chatting with Andre. She figured the mayor would have left the building by the time the meeting ended. She should have known she would stick around to make sure everything went off without a hitch.
Miriam and Andre smiled and laughed like old friends. A memory struck her. Andre and Miriam had hooked up briefly in high school. Not that she should care. Miriam was now the mayor and devoted to her husband, who supported every idea she came up with for Peachtree Cove.
“Did you talk to Tamara?” Miriam asked. Her back was to Tamara and Miriam hadn’t noticed she’d entered the lobby with Kevin. “She runs the planning department now. About time, too. I know I’m supposed to stay out of personnel issues, but I told the city manager that Tamara is the best thing to happen to this department.”
Andre shook his head. “I’m not surprised she’s running things. She still seems like the same Goody Two-shoes I remember.”
Goody Two-shoes? Tamara pressed her lips together. Apparently, Andre was the same jerk she remembered. She turned to Kevin, whose mouth had fallen open after hearing Andre’s words. Devante walked up just in time to hear the comment as well, and he cringed.
Heat filled Tamara’s cheeks and she felt about two inches tall. Instead of showing her discomfort, she squared her shoulders and held out her hand toward Kevin. “Well, Kevin, give me a call if you need anything else. I look forward to working with you and your team on this project.”
Kevin snapped his mouth shut and nodded. He shook her hand quickly. “Thanks, Tamara. This is going to benefit many people in Peachtree Cove.”
She felt Andre’s gaze on her as she turned to give Miriam a smile and quick wave before going back to her office. She wouldn’t give Andre the satisfaction of showing that she’d heard or even cared about what he had to say. She turned her back to them and walked away with her head held high. Just like she’d thought back in high school, Andre Kemp could kiss her entire ass.
ANDREKEPTTHEwindows in his dual-cab pickup truck open as he rambled down the road to the house he’d recently purchased along the outskirts of Peachtree Cove. For late February, the weather in Georgia wasn’t cold enough to require much more than a jacket and long-sleeve shirt, but neither was it warm enough to trick you into thinking summer was close. He liked this weather. Right before the seasons changed and Mother Nature gave you a hint of what was to come with the next season.
The air blowing through the window combined with the music playing on his radio to clear his mind. Trap music as his jazz-loving best friend, Kalen, called it. Andre didn’t care how anyone referred to it. He needed something loud and aggressive to get the thoughts out of his head. Thefeelingsout of his head. Feelings of guilt and a little bit of shame at the memory of Tamara’s wide, embarrassed brown eyes.
Shit, there he was thinking about her again. He shouldn’t feel bad. Shehadlooked like a Goody Two-shoes with those hearts and bows on her sweater. Then again, she’d always been straitlaced. Believing in truth and honor and good things happening to good people. Despite daily headlines showing the world was a fucking dumpster fire most of the time. He’d first called her a Goody Two-shoes when he was fourteen years old.
He remembered the day he’d first given her the nickname. He’d gotten into a fight at the back-to-school event where volunteers handed out school supplies to “the less fortunate.” He hadn’t wanted to go, but his mom insisted. Even though the night before had been bad enough for both of them. A repeat of his parents arguing, his dad walking out, his mom throwing things. Except that night, that fight, felt different. He’d been right. His dad hadn’t come home. Andre had been distracted, dejected and determined to take it out on someone. When a kid in line had taunted him about the dirt on his off-brand shoes, he’d lashed out and they’d gotten into a fight. The volunteers quickly broke things up and sent him to cool off. He’d hidden in one of the closets at the recreation center and before he knew it, he was crying. Once the tears started, they wouldn’t stop. He cried about his dirty shoes, his parents arguing, his dad walking out and not returning that night, or the next morning. He’d hidden in a place no one was supposed to come across him. Except Tamara had because she and her parents volunteered to give out supplies.
She’d opened the door and seen him in all of his fourteen-year-old shame. Teary eyes, snotty nose and everything.
“Oh... I’m sorry... I’ll just go now.”
She’d said those words in a hurry and closed the door. He couldn’t even appreciate that she hadn’t bothered to try and ask him what was wrong because he’d seen something much worse in her eyes. Pity. He hated pity. Fourteen-year-olds were supposedly “too big” to cry. They definitely weren’t supposed to be caught crying. And they damn sure weren’t supposed to be pitied if they were caught.
In that split second Tamara had gone from the cool girl he’d sometimes hung around with to public enemy number one. He’d stopped talking to her. Labeled her as a Goody Two-shoes to the rest of the kids who hung out with him and scoffed any time she’d shown the least bit of intelligence. All dumb teenage shit mixed in with jealousy that her life seemed perfect while his had fallen apart. Teenage Andre hadn’t known another way to deal with her. He’d waited for the day she’d rat him out and tell everyone she’d caught him crying in a closet. But she never had.
Which is why he shouldn’t have reverted to adolescent behavior when he’d seen her earlier today. She’d thrown him off guard. Yes, the sweater was ridiculous, but that wasn’t what had thrown him. The attraction that rammed him in the gut was what threw him. Tamara looked good. All grown up, with enough breasts, hips and ass to make a man want to spend forever lost in her curves. Her glare after his comment said she was even less likely to deal with his shit. She was also the woman who could make sure the town didn’t give him any trouble during the development. He shouldn’t have been so damn insecure.
He turned the corner on King Street. He’d chosen the old ranch-style home in Peachtree Cove for two reasons. One, his mom was getting older and he wanted to be back in town in case she needed him, and two, since he’d won the construction contract for the town’s revitalization project, he’d decided it was time to come home. Though coming back to Peachtree Cove didn’t mean he wanted to stay in the middle of town where anyone could just pop in and say “hey.” There would be no unexpected visitors if he lived out of the way on the edges of town.
A blue Camry sat on the side of the road. A woman pushed a jack under the car’s back bumper. The rear driver’s side tire was so deflated the bumper nearly kissed the ground. Andre immediately slowed down and steered his car to the shoulder. There was no way he could pass someone alone changing a tire and not stop to see if they needed help. His dad may have walked out when he was fourteen, but he’d taught Andre some chivalry before he’d split.
He put his vehicle in Park but didn’t cut the engine. The woman turned to face him and straightened. Andre sucked in a breath. Apparently a higher power wanted him to apologize for being an asshole sooner rather than later. Tamara’s dark eyes narrowed as she squinted through his windshield. The wary look on her face quickly morphed into annoyance when they made eye contact.
Oh well. He wasn’t going to just drive by and leave her out here. It was after six thirty, and even though the days were getting longer, it was getting dark outside and there were fewer streetlights this far away from the center of town. He opened the door and hopped out of his truck.
Her face didn’t clear up as he walked over. Her arms crossed over her chest. The ridiculous sweater from earlier was gone. A red camisole was tucked into the waistband of her dark pants, revealing slim, firm arms and lush cleavage. He was a damn sucker for a beautiful woman with sexy cleavage.
“Need help with the tire, Tamara?” he asked once he’d reached her. He made sure to keep his eyes focused on her face and not the smooth brown skin of her neck, chest and shoulders.
Her eyes widened. They were coffee brown and with thick lashes. Just on the top, though. They’d had enoughwho would look away firstglaring contests as teens that he’d noticed her bottom lashes were finer than the ones on top.
