This was perfect. Logan could use the cover of proposing a conference center to scope out GVF’s business atmosphere—hopefully figure out why the seller wanted to keep The Outpost. Then he and Coop could make a decision about the counteroffer and get this deal back on track.
When he texted Tess to tell her he had to attend a city council meeting that night, she surprised him by saying she’d be there too. He wondered why, but would find out soon enough.
He and Max put in a full day’s work, and then he showered and cleaned up.
Max’s description as “casual” had been an understatement. Logan wore dark jeans, a button-up shirt with sleeves rolled to his elbows, and his nice cowboy boots, but still felt completely overdressed. One woman wore a bathrobe!
Logan was ten minutes early for the meeting, but looked like thirty minutes late to the party. Apparently, meetings were a BYOB event. In the corner, someone had left a stack of red Solo cups, a carton of orange juice, and a bottle of Smirnoff on a table. Tess walked toward it, and Logan followed her.
“Don’t mind if I do-skis,” she said, pouring a splash of alcohol into a half cup of juice. She turned and held up the glass to the woman in the bathrobe. “Thanks, Mrs. Hayes.”
“You betcha, honey.” The woman raised her own cup in a toast.
“This place is happenin’,” Logan said. “First city council meeting I’ve been to where there’s an open bar.”
“You won’t get through the evening without at least one of these,” Tess said with a smile.
“Max is bringing beer. I’ll hold out for that. So, what brings you here?”
“Moral support for Faith,” Tess said, nodding to her friend, who was on the other side of the room talking with a tall, thick-necked man with a terrible comb-over. “She wants to put a rooftop bar on the bookstore and needs a tweak in the Main Street zoning rules to do it. What about you?”
“Max is thinking about building an event center at the inn. We’re here to float the idea. Who’s Faith talking to?”
“That’s Mayor Perkins. Gotta stay on good terms with him to get what you want around here.”
“Thanks for the tip.”
Max came up behind them, Lilly in his arms. Logan greeted them both and took the beer Max offered after setting Lilly on a nearby chair.
“All right, all right,” the mayor yelled. “Find a seat, and let’s get started.”
Mayor Perkins sat at the head table, flanked by a man on one side and a woman on the other. Presumably, they were the extent of the council. He called the meeting to order, and everyone quieted.
“Let’s see,” the councilwoman to the left of the mayor said. “We’ve got a list of people who got somethin’ to say. Martha, you’re up first. What’s on your mind?”
“This is the fourth time I’ve been here to complain about Walter still having his Christmas lights up. It’s July, for God’s sake.”
“It’s not like I turn ’em on,” Walter said. “I’m too old to be climbin’ around on the roof. You want me falling off a ladder?”
“They’re ugly,” Martha said.
“I’ll call the scouts,” Mayor Perkins said. “See if they can come by and help you, Walter. That work?”
Martha nodded, and Walter shrugged. “Fine.”
“Next,” the councilwoman said. “Ramona?”
“I have two complaints,” Ramona, who Logan guessed to be in her nineties, said. “First one’s about the stripper class. Why are we offering pole dancing at the rec center? It’s scandalous.”
Mayor Perkins frowned, looked to his right, then to his left, both council members shaking their heads. “Anyone know anything about this?” he asked.
“I got the Parks and Rec summer catalog right here,” Ramona said, holding up a pamphlet. “Says, ‘Adult dancing and fitness class. Tuesdays and Thursdays at seven.’ We get strippers, next come the hookers.”
“That don’t mean strippin’, Ramona,” a woman in the back called. “It just means it’s for adults as opposed to kids. It’s just regular dancin’, Piper’s daughter is teachin’ it.”
“Oh,” Ramona said, suddenly less indignant. “Well, in that case, I guess I don’t mind. Long as it’s not that dirty kind of dancing.”
“What else ya got, Ramona?”
