Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
MATT
I t’s been two days, and whiffs of mint and rosemary still tickle my nose.
It was a single kiss to her head, quick and short, and yet the smell of her shampoo has lulled me to sleep both nights since I saw her last. More than once, I’ve jolted awake, the scent so vivid I swore someone was beside me. But it was all in my mind.
She’s been on my mind.
Ever since our deal, she’s been a constant thought. A constant worry. Did I make the right choice? How is this going to work? Can I actually pull this off? If so, at what cost?
I was so focused on the opportunity to grow my business and earn enough to pay for Daphne’s school that I didn’t stop to think about the implications of spending this much time with Zoey.
Holding her hand, getting close to her, pretending she means something to me in front of the people who’ve known me since I was a teenager. Giving them a feeling of déjà vu.
A pinch of guilt twists in my stomach. It’s gonna take some heavy convincing.
The number of women I’ve been serious with can be counted on the fingers of one hand.
And suddenly I’m parading through town with a stranger who’s been here for a week, acting like she’s the love of my life, fully ignoring that, in their minds (thanks to yours truly), she wants to turn our town into one giant Walmart?
Yeah, solid plan, Matt. They’ll totally buy into that.
I need to find the angle. What’s the catch? What is it about her that could make me fold so easily?
It’s been a while since I’ve seen you this interested in someone.
James’s words echo in my head. She intrigued me at the beginning, yes. I couldn’t help but want to know more about her. Discover why she seemed so desperately alone and miserable, and work out why I felt the need to fill that void for a brief moment.
But that was before I knew who she was and why she’s here.
“So what do you think?” I ask.
Lola closes the folder, then slips her glasses off and sets them on the counter.
“I hate to say it, but this is impressive.” She exhales.
“I like that the focus is to connect people to nature and take them on excursions in the area. The small individual cabins are also a nice touch. They’d be much more fitting here than a luxury resort.
I don’t know, Matt. She thought of everything. ”
“Hmm.” I prop my elbows on the counter and lean against it.
My hope was that Lola would go over the documents and find glaring reasons why this project wouldn’t work for Pine Falls. But no. Her take is similar to mine. It’s almost too good to be true, coming from Oscar’s daughter, and that’s what makes her so unreliable. Like father, like daughter, right?
But when I sat down to read it last night, I was struck by the level of detail and care she put into her proposal.
Which, I know, I know, makes me an even bigger jerk. She’s on the town’s most-hated list because of me. The least I can do is help her get off it.
Lola flips through the pages again, stopping at the section on services offered.
“The core focus of her plan is teaming up with small businesses. From coffee suppliers to construction crews. She even noted Carl’s company as a potential partner for her nature excursions. She really did her research.”
A lump forms in my throat. “Do you trust her?”
“Not sure. I don’t know her like you do,” she says with a teasing smile. “But I’d be open to hearing her out.”
I hide my face in the crook of my elbow and groan. “Please don’t remind me I slept with Oscar’s daughter.”
Even if I can’t stop going back to that night in my mind.
Lola pats my head lightly. “There, there. It’s gonna be okay. There are worse things in the world.”
“She’s coming to the store in an hour so we can strategize the best way to do this dating thing.”
“Oh, how romantic,” Lola rests her palm above her heart. “They say chivalry is dead, but look at you. A true modern Romeo.”
I huff. “Please, don’t start. This is embarrassing enough.”
“It’s not.” She leans in, brow arched. “Your sister is your priority, and without you, she can’t get the education she needs. Your heart is in the right place, Matty. I just hope you won’t get lost in this make-believe and end up breaking it again.”
“Not a chance,” I scoff, pushing off the counter. “I’ve learned my lesson. I know better than to get tangled up with city folks. This is a professional agreement, nothing more, and I’ll treat it as such.”
“Sure you will.” Lola gives me a stern look. “Still, be careful, okay?”
“You don’t have to worry, Lols.” I round the counter and pull her into a bear hug. “She and I will never happen.”
Never happen again , that is.
All morning, I muddle through the day’s orders mechanically, cutting flowers, wrapping bouquets in tissue paper, and slipping personalized notes inside.
It’s a routine after all this time, but today my mind is elsewhere.
I fidget more than usual. I dropped a vase, then spent far too long cleaning up the pieces scattered across the floor.
And at the faintest sound, my eyes keep darting to the door, thinking she’s finally here.
She’s late. Over an hour late. Damn, I hate it when people waste my time.
Just as I’m ready to move to my office to start on the day’s paperwork, the bells above the door jingle and Zoey bursts in.
“I am so sorry,” she says, chest heaving. “I got held up in a meeting and couldn’t get out of it. I rushed here as soon as it was over.”
It’s warm today, and the sight of her in more casual clothes—a snug black top that reveals her collarbone, tucked into a suede skirt that stops mid-thigh—sets my blood pounding.
I force my focus away from her legs, from her sheer black tights and high leather boots.
The last time I lingered there too long, I ended up fucking her against a wall, and nobody wants a repeat of that. Sort of.
“I thought you’d bailed on me.” I swallow thickly, fixing my attention on her face.
“Oh, no. I wouldn’t.” Her eyes drift to the folder next to the register. “Did you take a look?”
“I did. Last night.”
She pops a hip to one side, placing her hand on it, smug. “And?”
I crack a smile. She knows she nailed it. Doesn’t erase who she is or who she works for, but I’ll give her that. I was an asshole for jumping the gun.
“Wildly different from what your dad had in mind when he came here a few years ago.”
Her lips twitch. “That’s because I want to build lodging that belongs in the community, not just a fancy block of concrete.”
Eyes narrowed, I scan her face for any signs that would betray her words. But I don’t know her well enough to pick up on them.
“It shouldn’t be too hard to sway the town once they get past the initial ‘she’s Oscar’s daughter’ shock. We’re a stubborn, protective bunch. But that’s where I come into play, right?”
Her gaze flicks to my mouth. “Right.”
A loaded silence falls between us, thick with understanding. We both know how I come into play, and neither of us has any idea how to navigate that.
I clear my throat. “Should we go into my office?”
Her eyes widen, and she takes a step back.
“Not like that,” I blurt out. “I meant so we can discuss our game plan for the upcoming weeks.”
“Oh,” she says softly, a rosiness coloring her cheeks. “Of course. Lead the way.”
Once inside, I close the door and sit behind my desk.
She stands in the middle of the room, taking it in. It’s not a grand space. Four walls without windows, a table and two chairs, and an old leather couch for the countless all-nighters I pulled during the first year of business.
It’s simple, but it gets the job done.
“Lola has been begging me to decorate the office,” I tell Zoey as her attention continues to wander across every object and piece of furniture.
“You should let her do it.” She looks at the second chair warily before she eases into it. “It’s a bit… bland and old.”
I cock an eyebrow, suppressing my amusement. “Way to earn my favor.”
“Well…” She crosses her legs, tugging at her skirt, which hiked up with the movement. “At least you can note ‘honesty’ as a very strong personality trait of mine.”
“We’ll see about that.”
I open the top drawer of my desk and take out a notebook.
“First, we should exchange phone numbers. Then I’ll text you my address, just in case. This is information you should know as my fake… person.”
She holds back a laugh, pressing her lips together. “Person? Yes, okay, sure.”
“I made a list of the people we should hit on our fake dating tour if we want to secure the deal,” I say, ignoring her mocking remark. “People who have influence and respect.” I flip to the first page. “And I’ve made another one for the events we should attend together.”
Zoey nods, leaning in, wearing an impressed frown. “You put a lot of thought into it.”
“Not a lot ,” I retort. “I prefer to stay organized. If I don’t write stuff down on paper, I tend to forget.”
I don’t like the way she’s observing me, as if she’s just cracked a minuscule piece of the Who’s Matt?
code. I didn’t think such a small detail would spark so much curiosity in her.
I’ve always been like this, so I long ago found a system that works for me, and it’s nothing even remotely groundbreaking.
“That makes sense,” she finally says. “What do you have?”
I turn the notebook so she has a clear view of the outline I created. “In two weeks, we’ll all meet and vote on your proposal for Emile’s land,” I say. “I suggest we build this relationship gradually if we don’t want to arouse suspicions.”
“Smart,” she cuts in.
“However, with only two weeks to do so, it’ll be tricky,” I continue. “So gradual but effective. We’ll start tonight with the last movie-in-the-park of the season. The whole town will be there.”