Chapter Eight
Zade
After the intense town hall meeting, I slide into the back seat of my car and exhale a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
The driver starts the engine, and the hum of it is unexpectedly soothing.
My head’s a mess. I’m irritated, yeah, but there’s something else mixed in.
And of course, it looks like her. That glare.
That smart mouth. That whole stubborn thing she does like it’s a full-time job.
I glance at the rearview mirror, and there she is. Juniper Harding, strapping on a helmet and knee pads like she’s about to head into battle. Well, maybe she is, in her own way. Watching her climb onto that old bicycle, there’s something almost… charming about it.
It's so different from the fire she showed back in that town hall, where she had the gall to stand up to me—me!—and hold her ground like she wasn’t staring down the barrel of inevitability. The more I think about it, the more I’m drawn to her, and it’s pissing me off.
I’m not into someone like her. Usually, I go for sleek, polished women, the kind who don’t bother with quaint things like bicycles.
But there ’s something about Juniper’s stubbornness—her refusal to back down—that keeps gnawing at the back of my mind.
She’s a puzzle, and I don’t like unsolved puzzles.
They itch; they fester. They need to be cracked open.
The drive back to the hotel is quiet, giving me too much time to replay the evening’s events. I keep seeing her, the way she faced down that room full of people, unflinching. Her defiance is unexpected and, annoyingly, a little impressive.
Once I’m back in the hotel, I pour myself a whiskey, letting the burn of it calm the lingering irritation.
Right then, there’s a knock at the door, and Brian barges in before I can even tell him to come in, looking like he’s been dragged through a hedge backward—tie askew, shirt crumpled, hair a mess.
“Zade!” he starts, flustered and out of breath, like he’s just sprinted up the stairs. “That Juniper woman, she’s riling everyone up. You know that back in the day, she was a social pariah? Her own parents kicked her out of the house. ”
I cut him off with a sharp glare. “Let’s keep it professional, Brian. And maybe stick to Mr. Patterson while we’re at it.”
He stumbles over himself to correct himself, clearly rattled.
“Right, Mr. Patterson. Sorry, it’s just—Juniper has been trouble since her wild teen years.
She was a slut back in the day, always the talk of the town, and now she’s back, acting like she’s here to save everyone.
She’s just trying to scrub up her image. ”
I slam my glass down, the ice rattling like the nerves Brian’s grating on. “Brian! I don’t give a damn about small-town gossip. Stick to the facts and do your job. I’ll handle Juniper.”
The truth is, I’m more curious than I should be about whatever dark past she’s hiding.
She’s got an attitude and a sharp tongue, but she cares about Cody in a way that’s almost admirable.
What could she have done that turned the town against her?
The whispers in that town hall, the way people looked at her—it’s all too intriguing to just brush off.
But I’m not about to get my intel from a spineless opportunist like Brian.
“But she’s got the whole town turning against our project,” Brian whines, lips pinched. “We could always revisit those old rumors about her; you know, stir the pot a bit. Remind people who she really is.”
I lean forward, my gaze as cold as the whiskey in my glass. “Let me make one thing clear, Brian. We’re not dragging up dirt. We’re not stooping to petty tricks. That’s not how this is going to play out. We’re going to win because we’re better, smarter, and more determined. Understood?”
There’s a pause, and for a second, I think he might actually shut up.
But no, he’s back at it, grasping for something—anything—that might sound like a solution.
“Alright, alright. What if we ramp up our messaging on the resort’s benefits?
Really hammer home the job creation and the economic boost. Make it clear that opposing the resort is like opposing progress.
You know, make them feel like idiots for even thinking about standing in our way. ”
I sit back, mulling o ver the idea. “That’s more like it, Brian.
But we need more than just ads and flyers.
I’m going to meet with the local business owners myself.
If we get them to publicly back the project, it’ll be tougher for the townsfolk to just brush us off.
It’s harder to say no when your neighbors are all in. ”
Brian’s eyes light up, finally finding some footing. “Good idea. I’ll set up the meetings. We’ll lay out the full benefits, show them exactly what they stand to gain. Once the business owners are on board, the rest will follow.”
“Make it happen,” I reply with a tone that brooks no argument.
He nods eagerly, like a dog who’s just been thrown a bone, and scurries out of the room.
I let out a long breath, picking up my glass again and taking a slow sip.
This should be a slam dunk, another victory to add to my long list of conquests.
But instead, it feels... complicated. And I don’t do complicated.