Page 9 of Billionaire's Coastal Haven

She doesn’t laugh or flinch at my joke. “This won’t work. We’ll never allow it.”

I lean close, and her cinnamon scent invades my senses, encouraging me to inhale deeply, but I plow ahead, tugging the napkin from her hand. “I never asked for your opinion. I don’t need your permission.”

Chapter 3

Zoe

I remember Landon Prince.

He doesn’t remember me, but I remember him.

Just as cocky and self-important as he was when I was a kid.

He was the guy in the pink shorts. The teenager who told me I was an idiot for pretending to be a US Senator the day he caught me playing in my dad’s office. “Scrawny nobodies from a little backwoods town can’t be senators.”

He may look like Thor—tousled blond hair, piercing green eyes, all the muscles—but he doesn’t have the hero’s moral compass.

That conceited, narcissistic jerk is not going to touch the Reeves mansion if I have anything to say about it.

He underestimates me—and my desire to protect my town.

As I drive down the bluff from the estate, I send a group text to the town council asking for an emergency meeting. Lucky texts back that they are at The Bright Spot, so I swerve into the first parking spot I find on Main Street and jog inside.

I should call my dad and tell him what’s going on, but time is pressing. We need to file an injunction or something before Landon’s crew tears down the house.

Six of the seven town council members share two tables in the center of the coffee shop. Charlotte is the president. She and her husband, Jack, own Siren’s Shelf Books and have been married for over forty years. They say the key to a long fulfilling relationship is proximity, so they rarely leave each other’s sides. Jack serves as the head of our Historical Preservation Society, so it works.

Bill owns North Coast hardware and coaches little league.

Elsbeth and Paisley are sisters as different as Barbie and Wednesday Adams. Elsbeth is six years older than Lucky and I, while Paisley is two years younger and practically worships Lucky, much to my annoyance.

Greyson is the high school science teacher who always wears a tie with some sciencey thing on it.

Archer Reeves is the only missing member of the council, but he’s busy with his law practice, so it doesn’t surprise me that he’s not here.

Lucky sits at the head of the table wearing a sneering scowl. She bounces her foot, arms crossed over her chest. “Well? What did he have to say?”

“He plans to build cabins around the estate. Ten of them.”

“Like an Airbnb-VRBO thing?” Elsbeth pushes her lime-green glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“Those are the worst.” Bill drums his fingers on the table. “People rent them and throw loud parties. Destroy the houses.”

“Landon doesn’t seem like the kind of man who would let tenants get away with that. He said he bought the land for its peace and quiet.”

“It’s about time Mr. Webber sold the property,” Jack says. “Webber and Martha never did anything with it after…” Their eyes settle on me, and I swallow the cotton clogging my throat. He doesn’t need to finish the sentence for us all to know he’s referring to my mom dying. “Anyway.” He scrubs his hands on his khaki pants. “The Historical Preservation Society has levied fines and taxes against them for years. The total must be almost five hundred thousand dollars by now. This way, Mr. Prince pays the back taxes and restores the estate to standard.”

If only it were that easy. “He’s not going to listen to us. He wouldn’t listen to me when I begged him not to destroy the house.”

“That’s what he said he wanted to do? Destroy the house to build the cabins?” Charlotte fans herself like she’s about to swoon. “Goodness, me. We can’t have that.”

“He had a drawing on a napkin, so I don’t know exactly.” He was specific in what he didn’t say. He didn’t answer a single question until I pulled the napkin from his hand. I was guessing that it was important based on the way he rubbed his thumb delicately over the ink on the corner.

“Maybe he’s starting a cult,” Lucky whispers.

“What do we do?” Paisley directs her question to Lucky, but I answer first.

“I’m calling an emergency meeting of the town council and Historical Preservation Society.”