Chapter Nine
Xavier
The neighborhood Small Business Association sat around a large table in the back of the diner, cups of coffee scattered across the laminate surface and pieces of pie circulating. Everyone was worked into a tizzy about the revitalization project, but that didn’t stop them from enjoying some sweets in the middle of the afternoon.
“Blueberry?” asked Junot, the owner of the barbershop.
“Yes, please,” I said, accepting the slim slice.
Georgia clinked her fork against her glass to get everyone’s attention, and I did my best to focus on the meeting. I’d been obsessing about Dominick since the gala, alternating between ecstatic glee that he asked me out again and confused despair that he hadn’t even kissed me at the end of the date.
He’d just lifted my hand to his face again, held it gently to his lips, and wished me a good night.
But at the diner, for once, I needed to stop thinking about the way his breath felt against my fingers or the tickle of his beard on my skin. I needed to stop thinking about the reality that he was going to move back to New York.
About the look in his eyes, like he was claiming me.
But some things actually were more important than my devastating crush. Like my business and every other business in our corner of the neighborhood.
“Everyone here?” Georgia asked, her eyes gliding across the small group. I quickly counted all twelve members, then caught her eyes and nodded to confirm.
“Good,” she continued. “I called this informal meeting to discuss the city revitalization project, and in particular their plan to tear out the garden and replace it with a bus stop.”
“I just don’t understand why no one told us about this,” Alice complained. “There’s going to be a big new bus stop across the street from my diner, and no one even asked what I thought about it?”
“If they did ask, you’d be a fool to complain about it,” Arty grumped. “That bus stop will mean a nice boost in business for my hardware store and probably for every other business here, too.”
“You see how many of our customers come here to enjoy the outdoor seating,” she pointed out, gesturing to the shaded front patio. While we were the loudest and biggest table inside, out front, the seating was filled with couples and happily families. “You think they’ll enjoy having buses belch smoke at them every time they get a refill on coffee?”
A waiter popped beside the table. “Right away, Alice,” he hummed, pouring some more coffee in her cup.
Everyone chuckled, and the mood eased a bit. I had been so devastated about the garden going away I hadn’t really considered whether some businesses would welcome the change. Our little group only represented a few blocks out of the larger neighborhood, but the way we were clustered together, our fates were entwined.
And looking across the table, it seemed at least a few people shared Arty’s mindset.
Georgia cleared her throat. “We don’t have to all agree, but we do have to figure out what’s going to be best for the group. The good news is that a new guy is running the project, and he’s putting his people in touch with us.”
“I still haven’t heard anything,” said Jacqueline. The owner of a pharmacy, she also handled the administrative duties for the group, and as always, she was dressed for the part in a sharp blazer. “Did you hear from this man, Georgia?”
Georgia gestured to me with the cup of coffee in her hand. “Xavier knows him,” she explained.
I held my fork in the air, a morsel of blueberry pie dangling on the tines. Completely unprepared to have so many eyes staring my way, I sputtered for something to say. “Not well. Um, I don’t know him well, I mean.” The pie fell from the fork, landing with a plop on my plate. “The city was supposed to reach out to us, but there was some sort of mistake.”
Junot rubbed his forehead, looking a little confused. “If he’s your friend, why is it so hard for the city get in touch with us?”
“Well, he’s not my friend,” I said. “We went to college together.”
“So you must not really know him,” said Jacqueline flatly. “If you did, I’m sure they wouldn’t be planning to tear out that garden without consulting us.”
Everyone started talking at once, and I felt completely flustered. A few years ago, this would have been the point in the meeting when my dad cleared his throat and offered some easy solution. It wasn’t that he was bossy, but the whole group respected him and took his opinion seriously.
I tried clearing my throat to get their attention once a few months earlier and forcing the sound out despite how nervous it made me, but Jacqueline had just offered me a lozenge.
“Hey now,” said Georgia loudly. “We’re getting off track. Xavier, did you hear anything else from Dominick?”
“He gave me a number to call,” I said. “Should I reach out?”
“Maybe Jacqueline should,” Arty replied, pie in the corner of his mouth. “Might be a bit more official, in case he doesn’t remember who you are.”
