local artisans. Weavers, painters, potters, stained-glass artists. Several earn a living from their work but most of them have to go to the other towns to capitalize on the customers that flood in during the summer.”
“If we bring people in here, that will change. I can understand why they live here. The beauty stimulates your creative genes.”
“Are you an artist, too?” He somehow couldn’t imagine her spattered in paint.
“My grandfather was a goldsmith, my grandmother a jewelry designer. They taught me. I’d like to get back to it one of these days.”
Gold. Yeah, that fit her perfectly.
“I see you have a tour program proposed,” Jason said. “Some of the guild members would certainly go for that. Why not ask for volunteers to help with the extravaganza thing? That way you’d get to know them sooner.”
“Yes, I’d thought of that.” Her eyes glittered like black onyx. “This is going to be a very exciting time in Serenity Bay, Jason. I can’t wait to see what happens.”
“Neither can I.” He cleared his throat.
“But?” She frowned.
“I’d appreciate it if you’d keep me in the loop about what you’re doing. The council has several ideas of their own. We don’t want to overlap.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep you informed of whatever’s happening. Thanks for your support.” In a flash she gathered her papers and replaced them in her briefcase.
Five minutes later Piper Langley was walking down the pier toward a small red compact that sat in the parking lot.
Jason waited until he saw her taillights disappear, then he picked up the phone.
“Hey, Ida. How are you?” He chuckled at the growl from the town’s secretary. Ida’s bark was always worse than her bite. “Yes, I do know you’re off work today. I just want to ask you something. Our new economic development officer is officially on the job. Can you let me know if she asks you for anything special?”
“Asks me for something? Like what?” Ida Cranbrook never skirted an issue. She claimed she was too old for that. “Pens? Paper?”
“You know what I mean. I just want to make sure she and I are on the same channel,” he muttered. “We haven’t got much of a budget. I don’t want to see it squandered.”
“You think she’ll do that? A woman with her reputation?”
“Well—”
“You don’t have to spell it out. I get it, Jason. You want to approve everything before she does it.”
“You make that sound like a bad thing.” Silence. Jason sighed. “I just need to know. Okay? Satisfied?”
“Not nearly.” She cackled at her own joke. “You’re the boss, Jason. If you want me to spy on the girl and give you daily reports, I suppose I’ll have to do it. But I won’t like it.”
“I’m not asking you to spy on her.”
“Ha!” Ida Cranbrook was no fool.
“Never mind. Sorry I bothered you, Ida. Especially on your day off.”
“Doesn’t matter a bit. Harold’s nodded off to sleep in the middle of one of those car races, anyway. I just started spicing up some ribs for dinner. You interested?”
Interested in Ida Cranbrook’s specially prepared, mouth-watering ribs? Was a fish interested in water?
“Just tell me when and where.” His stomach growled at the thought of those succulent bits of artery-clogging pleasure.
“Six o’clock. And bring the girl. From what I saw at the interview, she looks like she could use some meat on those bones. Besides, then we can all watch her, make sure she doesn’t pull a fast one on us.” Ida barked a laugh, then hung up.
In one weak moment he’d confided his past and the betrayal that had precipitated his leaving Expectations. Now Ida could read him like a book—which Jason found extremely disconcerting.
So was inviting Piper Langley to go with him to Ida’s. Piper of the iceberg-blue suit and immaculate makeup. He just couldn’t envision her dripping in barbecue sauce and grease. Seemed a little like casting pearls into the mud to him.
Good looks and nice clothes had nothing to do with the person inside. He’d learned not to judge by exteriors and he couldn’t afford to forget that lesson. Besides, he’d never yet met a person who didn’t love Ida’s ribs. Between Ida, Harold and himself, they should be able to find out more about the new owner of Cathcart House.
Jason drank the coffee he’d forgotten to pour for Piper wishing he’d told her straight up that he intended to be involved in every part of her plans.
Jason had compared her to a rose, but roses had thorns that could draw blood, cause pain. Fine. He could deal with that. But Serenity Bay’s development was his chance to put his mark on the world, and he wasn’t about to let anybody ruin that.
Jason had survived the shame of being duped by someone he trusted, had weathered whispers, mended broken relationships with each of his clients while he worked out his notice at Expectations and left a job he loved. He’d endured the sly looks at a wedding that should have been his by planning a new dream and praying for forgiveness while he struggled to trust God for a new plan for his future. He still wasn’t certain he was where God wanted him, though he prayed about it daily.
Putting Serenity Bay on the tourism map without input from the major developers he’d once worked with would show anybody who doubted him that he could still make it in the big leagues.
He’d been duped once. But nobody, including Piper Langley, was going to fool him into trusting wrongly again.
Chapter Three
“I’m glad you asked me to join you tonight. I’ve never met Ida Cranbrook. At least, I don’t think I have. I’m sure she wasn’t around when I lived here before.”
“She and Harold have only been here a little longer than me.”
Piper climbed from Jason’s truck and walked toward a cottage that looked like Hansel and Gretel’s gingerbread house. She sniffed the air.
“Oh, that aroma is marvelous. I love ribs.”
“You’ll like them even more after you taste Ida’s. She has this secret recipe. Every year more and more people try to copy it.”
“Maybe I could wheedle it from her for the good of the town. You know, ‘Come to Serenity Bay and sample Ida’s ribs.’ Something like that.” Piper smiled at Jason, liking the way his hair flopped across his forehead. He was so different from the corporate stiffs she usually worked with.
“Nobody has managed to get it out of her yet, so you’d have a coup if you did.” His fingers grazed her elbow as he directed her up the two steps to the front door.
“Hmm. I’ll try hard, then.”
“Ida’s also the sounding board for the entire community. She knows everything about everything. What she doesn’t know, she’ll find out.”
“Ah, an unimpeachable source. Good.”
He laughed, rapped the door twice, then opened it.
“We’re here,” he announced in a loud voice, then motioned for Piper to precede him inside.
A man emerged from the room beyond, ducking his head to walk beneath the low, exposed beams.
“Don’t call her,” he murmured, shaking his head as he beckoned them inside. “She’s at the crucial stage.”
“Of what?”
“I don’t know, exactly, but she says it’s crucial.” He