Chapter 6
OLIVER
It was just as I’d thought. The town plans and zones barely reflected reality anymore.
If there was any hope we could coax just a couple of businesses into Beauville, we needed to rethink the zoning.
Aside from the tiny square and a short part of Main Street, everything in the center was residential areas only, while other parts of town had no planning at all.
I sent a few emails and called a firm in Green Peaks to ask for a quote, but they would surely be too expensive.
On Tuesday, Mr. Hughes came to the town hall, and I spent the day going through old budgets with him, so I had to put my other efforts on pause.
I was itching to ask Frey if he’d read my strategy, but he didn’t show up.
According to Jesse, he was out with Morris, checking the progress on the fiber optic installation and talking to the residents about it.
In the evening, I went to have dinner at the pub.
It wasn’t because I wanted to see Frey since he’d managed to avoid me at work.
I wanted to do some reconnaissance. As the sheriff, my dad had met nearly everyone in Beauville, but Jordy knew everyone.
And he told me that he’d served beer to an architect who had rented a cabin on the edge of town for a few weeks this summer.
“What’s his name?”
“Something with M. Mason? Masterson?”
I sighed. “I’ll have to go knock on his door, won’t I?”
Jordy grinned. “Nope. There he is.” He pointed at a slim, bespectacled gentleman who had just entered the pub.
I got lucky. Mr. Masterson loved Beauville and wanted to buy a cottage here before he retired in a couple of years.
When I told him we needed rezoning, he got into a detailed explanation about careful urban development in small communities, and I was cheering on the inside.
I’d had a great consultation on the town’s zoning, and it had cost me one beer.
“If the mayor wants to talk more, give him my number.”
“What are your hourly rates? I’m afraid I’ll need a quote.”
“Give me your email address. We can agree on something reasonable since it’s the public sector, right?”
We said goodbye, and I ran home and wrote down everything Mr. Masterson said before I forgot.
Mixed-use development in the center, design guidelines on new development, limited commercial corridors, low-impact tourism, and conservation.
I reviewed the notes and sent them to Frey right away. Then I glanced at the clock and grimaced. He was going to think I was such an overachiever. Who sent work emails at eleven p.m.?
But I didn’t take the job just to make heart eyes at the mayor. I was determined to make a difference.
When I arrived at the office the next day, Jesse and Frey stood in the corridor, Frey’s huge form blocking it.
I took one look at Frey’s grim face and balked.
“What’s going on?”
“Shall we take it in there?” Jesse pointed at the door to Frey’s office.
“Might as well,” Frey grumbled. He walked in first and headed straight for the window. He opened it wide.
“It’s not that hot today, is it?” Jesse commented, but Frey ignored him.
I was glad for the open window. Breathing in Frey’s powerful scent didn’t help my focus.
“You look like someone’s died,” I said. Their faces remained grave, and I put my fingers over my stupid mouth. “Did someone die?”
“Hughes sold the forest,” Jesse said.
It took me a second to decode the non sequitur. “The chunk of land behind the church? That forest?”
Frey nodded.
“To whom?”
Jesse scratched his ear. “He doesn’t know.”
I looked from one man to the other. “How’s that possible?”
Frey sank onto the edge of his desk, and the wood creaked under his weight. He looked so tired. Hadn’t he slept?
“Hughes was approached by a law firm from the city a few months ago. They gave him an offer on the land. At first, he thought it was a scam, so he ignored it. But then the offer increased, and he eventually caved.”
“I worked with him for the whole day yesterday,” I said. “We even spoke about the town’s planning. He didn’t mention anything.”
“The buyer wanted to remain anonymous. Hughes wasn’t allowed to tell anyone about it until the deal was finalized. He came by my house last night, clutching his hat in his hands, and spilled the beans.”
“Traitor,” Jesse mumbled.
Frey flashed him a look. “The money will send all his grandkids to college, Jesse. In his place, you’d sell for half the price.”
Jesse gave him a sour grimace.
“So we don’t know who it belongs to?” I asked. “There has to be a name on the deed.”
“It’s a trust. No names. Someone bought thirty acres of forest that reaches into the middle of Beauville, and we have no idea who they are and what they want to do with it.”
Right then, a ringing tone came through the closed door. Jesse looked at me as if it were my job to go pick up the phone. When I didn’t move, he sighed ostentatiously and shuffled to the door.
“Thank you, Jesse. I’ll update Oliver,” Frey said.
The door closed, and I was alone with Frey.
He exhaled through his nostrils, and it felt as if he was once again avoiding looking at me. He could be so irritating. I folded my arms over my chest, holding on to my composure.
“Why are you so angry about this?” I asked.
My direct question visibly startled him. His eyes flickered to mine. “We could have a ten-story concrete monstrosity built in town by next spring.”
“That’s not how it works.” I lifted a finger.
“One, we can require information about who is behind the trust that purchased the land. They can’t remain anonymous forever.
And two, while the current zoning doesn’t specify any purpose for that area, we decide what’ll happen in the part that’s within the town’s limits. ”
Frey scrunched his eyebrows together. “It’s the part that’s right outside that worries me.”
“We work with the county and push for regulations.”
“These people have a trust and a law firm buying stuff for them, Oliver. They must have their fingers everywhere. The county never gave a damn about us, and they sure won’t help us against a bunch of developers with their pockets full of cash.”
I suppressed a groan. “You don’t even know they’re developers.”
Frey threw his hands up in the air. “Who else?”
“Even if they are, developer is not a bad word, you know. They’re not all greedy villains wanting to turn cutesy mountain towns into rubble. They’re in it for business, and they want good business. We can work with them and convince them to build what will bring the most benefits to Beauville.”
He pushed off the desk and stepped closer to me until he seemed to loom above me. “ Work with them? Are you crazy?”
“Of course!” Now it was my turn to wave my arms. “Have you read the strategy I wrote?”
“Yes. Even the email you sent in the middle of the night.”
I ignored the poke. “This could be a good thing, Frey. We have to revise the zoning, especially for that area, as soon as possible. I’ll call Mr. Masterson and ask him to meet with us while he’s in Beauville.
We need to prepare. The new owners will have to come clean about who they are and what they want, and when they do, we’ll have a bulletproof plan ready. ”
“I don’t want Beauville infested with some sleazy money grabbers.”
Infuriating, stubborn alpha! “C’mon, Frey, you sound like you’re from the fifties.”
“I’m old! So what?”
“You’re forty-one. That’s not old!” We’d regressed back to middle school. Wonderful .
Frey balled his hands into fists, rising before me in all his six feet nine glory. The room seemed to darken around him. “I’ve been protecting my town from bullshit like this for a decade. I’m not going to stop now.”
Except I grew up with a scary alpha bear for a father and saw my omega dad handle worse macho displays than this.
“And what are you going to do, huh? Grab a pitchfork? This is not a siege. This is management, for heaven’s sake.
And it’s not your town. It’s ours! Everybody in Beauville should have a say in this.
People here need work, Frey! We need new businesses and opportunities coming in. We can’t all chop trees for a living!”
Yep, I yelled at my boss. Three days into my new employment.
Frey looked steaming mad.
My heart pounding against my ribs, I put my hand over my mouth. Maybe I wasn’t so tough after all.
He glared at me, his eyes wide and dark. Really dark. His pupils were like saucers.
He took another step closer to me, and I stared into those dark depths like he’d hypnotized me.
His nostrils flared. He was so close. I was about to push him away. That was why I put my palm against his chest. Why else?
But then I froze.
With my face tilted up, I gaped at him, my lips parted. His scent enveloped me, and a shudder went through me. I felt his chest expand under my hand.
He was so close. Inches away. Bent over me, he seemed to surround me, and I felt tiny and weak. Why did that make me ache? A torturous, hollow ache in my core.
His lips were right there.
“Oliver,” he rasped. Was it a warning? Or something else?
A knock on the door made me jump.
Frey spun around, and in a split second, he was behind his desk. How could anyone of his size move so fast?
“Yes?” Frey called, his voice breaking. He coughed and cleared his throat.
My dad, of all people, barged into the room. In full uniform, hat on and his gun in the holster, he looked his most intimidating. He hooked his thumbs into his belt and looked from Frey to me and back.
“I heard Hughes sold his forest to some schmucks from the city. What are we going to do?”
Ugh! Now there were two of them.
“Shoot them all,” I muttered, and walked out.
“What’s with him?” I heard my dad ask from behind me.
I didn’t linger in the hall to hear Frey’s reply. I closed myself in my office and pulled up the county’s official site. It wouldn’t hurt to call them and start asking around.