5. Sebastian
FIVE
SEBASTIAN
“You’re Charlie Washington Reeves…Esquire?”
“The one and only.” Charlie’s lips stretched in a tight-lipped smile.
She wasn’t a crotchety old dinosaur who needed to enter the twenty-first century with the rest of us. She was a beautiful, vicious, short-tempered woman…who needed to enter the twenty-first century with the rest of us.
This was the person who was standing in the way of me becoming a very rich man. She was the one who was threatening all my plans.
Thoughts I’d entertained about visiting my upstairs neighbor for a bit of fun while I was in town dissipated in a puff of smoke. I couldn’t get close to this woman, even if all we did was get horizontal. I couldn’t give her an inch.
I needed to take her down.
Giving myself an imaginary slap in the face, I quickly regained my composure and readied myself for battle. She already thought I was an asshole.
Good. I wasn’t here to be her friend. The less she thought she could win me over to her side, the better.
Charlie narrowed her eyes, taking a step closer in those killer heels of hers. The sound of her footsteps echoed in the small room.
She placed her portfolio down and grabbed a tissue from the box in the middle of the table to wipe the ink on her hands. “Now that we’re all acquainted, shall we get down to the matter at hand? That is unless you still want to pause for a coffee break, in which case, you can fetch some for yourself down the hall.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I spied Minnie biting back a bemused grin. It wasn’t the first time I’d faced a hostile real estate development tribunal. And I had the feeling it wouldn’t be my last in New Elwood. My gaze switched between the two women glaring at me. I may have been playing on Charlie’s home turf, but she didn’t know who she was up against.
Sebastian Anderson never crumbled. Unlike her flooring.
“Let’s get this over with.” The sooner we sat down and went head-to-head, the sooner I could wipe that condescending look off her pretty face.
The arch of Charlie’s eyebrow rose on her forehead. “Then let the games begin.”
I grinned inwardly. Something told me by the dark look in her eyes and clenched jaw that she wasn’t going to play nice. Good. A worthy adversary to make it interesting. So far, Charlie had been the only interesting thing in New Elwood. Not that that was saying much.
Why had my family invested so much into this small southern town? And to think I was born here. Spent the first eleven years of my childhood here. Even back then, everything from the houses and schools to the shops and restaurants were dated. And let me tell you, after thirty years, it had not aged well, and was in desperate need of a facelift.
Take the old courthouse conference room we stood in. The once glossy mahogany paneled walls had dulled to a dungeon hue, and displayed paintings of dead presidents in lusterless gilded frames. The lead paint on the colonial-style window grilles had chipped away to nothing and condensation bubbled along the window panes. Above us were a half a dozen ceiling tiles stained with swirls of brown, spinning into a deep moldy black, which explained the inescapable dank odor lingering in the thick, sticky air. This place made my skin crawl. I’d rather bulldoze this building than step foot in it ever again.
The four of us sat down at the conference table with a history of nicks and scratches. Mayor Greene sat at the head while Minnie prepared the meeting’s minutes next to my neighbor, Charlie, who settled in directly across from me. This would be quick. This town couldn’t turn down the pot of gold I was proposing.
I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms. There was no way I was going to let ole splinter-ass get in the way of me and my profits. Surely she believed that because she was the town’s heritage preservation officer, she was somehow in charge of the final say. But Charlie Washington Reeves, Esq. was about to watch the antique table turn in my favor.
She spoke first. “Well, I’ve done a thorough review of your proposal to overhaul our beloved Monticello Theater and turn it into a generic hotel?—”
“Pardon my interruption, but beloved theater?” I knew where this was going. Nowhere good. I had to put a stop to it. “I’ve reviewed the accounts, and the theater hasn’t turned a profit in two years. Before that, the numbers were dismal. With the advent of online streaming services, it doesn’t appear the public is very interested in frequenting a matinee at a moldy old theater. So I’m not sure beloved is accurate. It’s quaint, I’ll give you that, but it’s falling apart. And frankly, with ninety-year-old wiring, it’s a death trap. The theater is adding absolutely no value to the town at large. In fact, it’s detracting from it.”
Even the thought of being caught in that place with a single stray spark made dread walk down my spine. I’d already cheated death in another tinderbox in this town at the tender age of eleven; I wasn’t going to tempt fate again.
And if I could’ve dealt with my grandmother’s bequeathment without setting foot in this old town at all, that’s what I would’ve done. But as I faced off against the woman who’d just become Enemy Number One, I was glad I could take her down in person.
Charlie’s chest rose with a deep breath through her flared nostrils. She interlaced her fingers and settled them on the table. “Mr. Anderson, unlike you, the good public servants of New Elwood value its history. The Monticello is an important part of that. And as the town’s trusted heritage preservation officer, it’s my job to protect our history, not tear it down. Do you follow my lead?”
No way I was following her lead.
“You know, Ms. Reeves, it’s admirable how much you care about this town. But I think you’re under the impression I’m the big, bad developer who doesn’t. I’m only proposing to build this town up. Build the future.” I mirrored her position and looked her square in the eye. The humid air grew even damper. Thicker. “What Main Street needs is a massive makeover to attract the wine-guzzling tourists who will sustain this town. Which, by the way, has been in dire straits since the old cigarette factory moved overseas. The new hotel will be the start of a prosperous future for everyone. After all, it’s New Elwood, not Old Elwood.”
Her knuckles turned white as she tightened her fingers. The red stain on her silky blouse looked like blood spatter, like she was ready to fight me to the death over this. That made two of us.
The only sound was the click-clacking of Minnie’s diligent account. Let the record show that Charlie Washington Reeves would leave here with her tail tucked between her gorgeous legs.
“I understand this isn’t something you’re used to hearing, Mr. Anderson, but New Elwood isn’t interested in building a future with you at the cost of our heritage.”
“Your heritage?” I asked, ready to stake my claim. “What about my heritage?”
“What about it?” she demanded with clenched teeth.
“Now, Charlie, wait just a minute. Let’s not be so quick to throw out Sebastian’s proposal with the bathwater.” The mayor chimed in, and I flicked my brow at the mention of bathwater. The flash in Charlie’s eyes told me she knew exactly where my mind had traveled.
For a moment, I lost focus and let my gaze trail from her scarlet red lips to her delicate, porcelain neck. The ink stains had faded but a heated blush seemed to creep up her chest. My palm tingled, and I remembered the feel of her soft ass beneath it. Then the mayor’s booming voice brought me back as he continued, “He has a right to have a say in what happens to the theater.”
“What right? He’s just another city big-wig trying to destroy our home! Or have you forgotten what happened with Theo Sinclair?”
I frowned at the mention of the familiar name, but the mayor went on: “That was different. Mr. Anderson is also a Radcliffe. As in Lydia Radcliffe’s grandson.”
Minnie’s keyboard taps stopped dead. “Wait. The Lydia Radcliffe who owns the theater?”
“The one and only, along with the beautiful Radcliffe House Apartments,” I said and watched Charlie gulp something back. Pride, perhaps?
“She owns some of the best real estate in town. Well, did… Rest her soul,” Mayor Greene said.
“Which means I now own it.” Or I would in thirty days if I could stand living in that crummy apartment with my maternal family’s namesake. “So the theater is just as much a part of my history.” A history I’d like to forget.
“With all due respect, Mr. Anderson, you may own the building, but the town owns that land. I have been entrusted by said town to protect its history. So the Monticello Theater isn’t going anywhere. I won’t sign off on this as is. Your proposal is denied.” Charlie flipped open my proposal. It was already bloodied in red ink. She gripped the black knob of her big rubber stamp and raised it over the file.
Just as she was about to hammer the stamp down, Mayor Greene blocked her path. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, there, Charlie. I don’t think you want to do that.”
“Excuse me?” She glared at him as if she’d had enough. Which would make two of us.
“As Sebastian mentioned, the economy isn’t what it used to be now that the cigarette factory is gone. Our only big draw now are the wineries, and we need better accommodations to bring in more tourists. And it would really help our cause if we had those infrastructures in place as soon as possible. Sebastian informed me that the hotel can be finished by next year’s Wine Festival, giving us a hub right here in town.”
“Or,” Charlie began, “we can restore the theater to its 1920s glory and have it open by this year’s festival. Patrons will flood the place.”
“And how exactly are you planning to fund this restoration?” I had to give it to her, under the circumstances she was holding her own and keeping cool. But at this point I think even Minnie had caught on that Charlie was grasping at straws.
She and Minnie shared a look before she said, “We can apply for grants, host a community fundraiser?—”
“In the next twenty-four hours? We need to break ground now!” I’d been patient enough. I’d waited too long to have some fiery preservation officer with a power trip block my plan with some kitschy attempt to save a theater that no one cared about.
This theater was the cornerstone of a much bigger, more important deal. I needed to get it done, get the cash, and get out so I could move on to the main course.
“Fine. Then you can be the theater’s benefactor. We can put a nice little plaque on one of the seats. With your name on it.” She wrinkled her nose as if it were the cutest idea for a rich little guy like me.
Mayor Greene slammed his fist on the table with a gavel-like force. A tad too harshly, if you asked me. “No, Charlie! Restoring the theater is not an option. We can’t pay salaries by selling popcorn.”
“Pay whose salaries?” Charlie asked, now red-faced.
The mayor let out a sigh and dropped his gaze to the floor. “Minnie’s.”
Minnie gasped as if watching a horrific plot twist on screen.
“And yours, Charlie,” he finished, and a mini-gasp escaped her full lips. “The town’s funds are running low. If we don’t do something soon, we’ll be furloughed. Or worse. We need tourists. We need people visiting our town, staying for a weekend or longer, and spending their hard-earned money in our town.”
The corners of her mouth fell and the color in her eyes turned a melancholy gray. It was the first time since I’d met her that her defenses were down, which was saying a lot since I’d had her bare-assed and splayed over my kitchen table within ten minutes of meeting her. Despite my desire to win at all costs, that look on her face twisted something up inside me. If her vehicle was any indication, she couldn’t afford to lose her job. For a second, I wanted to offer her a break. But just a second. Because this wasn’t personal. It was business. And it was my theater. Why did I need her permission to do anything with it?
“Fine,” Charlie said, finally. “Furloughed or not, I won’t stand by and watch a wrecking ball demolish the Monticello. We can’t give up on it because of its flaws. It belongs where it is.”
“Technically, wrecking balls haven’t been used in demolition for decades, so…”
The glare she shot across the table at me made my blood heat. I gave her my best smile. Her jaw clenched, and, to my horror, her eyes became glazed with unshed tears.
Wow, she really loved this town. Never in a million years would I understand why.
Mayor Green cleared his throat. “Charlie, it’s clear you’re a woman of integrity but this is not a theater you want to die on.”
I leaned back, smug.
The mayor straightened his tie around his thick neck and continued: “But it does have historic value, and that’s one of the things about this town that people come to see. So we’ll put it to a vote.”
“A vote?” Charlie and I snapped back in unison.
“That’s right. It’s clear we won’t come to an agreement in this room. With the Monticello being such a landmark, it’s only right that everyone on the town council should get a say. And we’ll do it on the final night of the Wine Festival. The venue for the gala just fell through”— No surprises there —“so we’ll use the theater lobby.”
“Is that safe?” I asked, bristling.
“You’ll make it safe,” the mayor replied. “You have a month to make that lobby look good. In return, I’ll give you each fifteen minutes to make your case. Then the council will vote on it.” The mayor was headed in the right direction, but this was not in the blueprints.
If I didn’t get the official go-ahead, all I had was an old building that risked the lives of everyone who walked through its doors. No deal. No selling up and getting out. Nada. But I could win a vote. Once people saw the sensible vision, how could they not get behind it?
Still, I frowned. “How exactly would that work? My plan’s to raze it in its entirety. The theater is falling apart at the seams. If the council votes against it, I won’t put any money into restoring the theater as is. It’ll keep degrading until it dies along with the rest of the town.”
“Come up with a new plan. And get started right away.”
Charlie folded her arms. “Even if I were to agree to this arrangement, how can we trust Mr. Anderson to not accidentally knock out the building no matter the results of the vote?”
“If Mr. Anderson damages the building without express approval from the town council, he’ll have to contend with the penalties, fees, and repairs that ensue,” Mayor Greene said, and it sounded like a threat. He turned to Charlie. “As far as I’m concerned, this is the best option. I’m putting my foot down. You two need to figure it out and fast. I’m holding both of you responsible for your own proposals. The vote will happen at the gala. The future of the town rests in both of your hands.”
Charlie and I stared at each other. My heart raced at the injustice of the outcome. And maybe a little because I’d have to deal with her all day and all night if her floor wasn’t repaired soon. All I knew was I wouldn’t be the first to speak. Never be the first to speak at a moment like this.
When the silence stretched just a little too long, there was a crack that echoed through the room. Each of our heads turned up in the direction of the snap. One of the water-stained tiles had given up and dropped into a crumpled mess of pieces and dust on the ground.
Charlie and I looked back at each other with a knowing look. If we’d learned anything from the last sixteen hours, we were stuck together whether we liked it or not.