His Winter Rose. Lois Richer
“If I understood your ad correctly, you’re hoping to change that.” She glanced around the table, meeting every interested stare. “I’d like very much to be a part of that progress.”
Nice, but not really an answer to his question.
Why here? Why now?
Jason leaned back in his chair and began to dig for what he really wanted to know.
“How do you view this town, Ms. Langley?”
“Please call me Piper.” She, too, leaned back, but her stare never wavered from his. “I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, but to me Serenity Bay looks like a tired old lady much in need of a makeover. The assets are certainly here, but they’re covered by years of wear and tear. I’d like to see her restored to a vibrant woman embracing life with open arms. I have some ideas as to how we might go about that.”
Piper elaborated with confidence. Clearly she’d done her research, weighed every option and planned an all-out assault on the problems besieging the Bay. But she didn’t stop there. She offered a plethora of possibilities Jason hadn’t even considered. Two minutes into her speech she had the board eating out of her perfectly manicured hand. None of the other candidates had been so generous in sharing their ideas.
Jason was left to find a hole in her carefully prepared responses.
“You’re used to large budgets, Ms. Langley. You won’t have that here.”
Her brown eyes sparked, her perfectly tinted lips pinched together as she leaned forward. So Miss Perfect had a temper. He found that oddly reassuring.
“Money isn’t always the answer, Mr. Franklin.” Her fingers splayed across the shiny tabletop, her voice deepened into a firmness that emphasized the sense of power that red suit radiated. “Yes, it will take some cash to initiate change. It will also require hard work, forward thinking, a vision that reaches beyond the usual means to something new, untried. There will be failures, but there will also be successes.”
“I agree.”
She stared at him hard, her focus unrelenting, searching. Then she nodded, just once.
“It will also take commitment. By you, your board, the community. No town gains a reputation for great tourism through one person’s actions. It takes everyone committing to a common goal and pushing toward it—no matter what. It takes teamwork.”
Jason hoped his face remained an expressionless mask, but his heart beat a hundred miles an hour. Of everything she’d said, that one word had made up his mind.
Teamwork.
It was what he’d been cheated of before.
It was the one thing he’d demand from the town’s newest employee.
“Unless anyone has another question, or you have something more to say, Ms. Langley, I believe we’re finished. Thank you for making the trip.” He rose, surprised to see more than an hour had passed. “We will notify you of our decision by next week.”
“It’s been my pleasure.” She worked her way around the table, shaking hands, flashing that movie-star smile. “Regardless of whom you chose as your new economic development officer, I wish you much success in your endeavor. I look forward to coming back in the summer to see the changes you’ve wrought.”
Jason ushered her out of the room, back into the reception area.
“Thank you again,” he said, holding out his hand toward her. “You’ve obviously put a lot of thought into how you’d do the job, Ms. Langley. We appreciate your interest.”
“It’s Piper,” she murmured, shaking his hand. “And the pleasure was all mine. It’s been good to see the town again.” She picked up a long, white cashmere coat and before he could help she’d wrapped it around herself, fastened the two pearl buttons in front.
A winter rose.
He got stuck on that thought, gazing at her ivory face rising out of the petal-soft cashmere.
“Mr. Franklin.”
“It’s Jason,” he told her automatically.
“Very well, Jason.” She inclined her head, flicked the sheath of sable-toned hair over one shoulder, shook his hand in finality. “Thank you for the opportunity. Goodbye.” Then she turned toward the door.
Jason kept watch as she strode to her car, a grey importrental. He waited until she’d climbed inside, until the quiet motor glided away from the town office.
She was wrong about one thing.
It wasn’t goodbye. He knew that for sure.
Chapter One
“A toast to each of us for thirty great years.”
Piper pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head, protection not only against the March sun’s watery rays, but against the reflected glare of those highest peaks surrounding the bay where traces of winter snow still clung to the crags and dips.
She held her steaming mug of tea aloft, waiting to clink it against those of her two friends in a tradition they’d kept alive since ninth grade.
“Happy birthday, ladies. May we each find the dreams of our heart before the next thirty years pass.”
Rowena Davis drank to the toast, but her patrician nose wiggled with distaste at the mint tea. Rowena was a coffee girl, the stronger the better. She quickly set down her mug before studying the other two.
“We’ll hardly find any dreams here in the Bay,” she complained with a motion toward the thick evergreen forest. Her dubious tone mirrored the sour look marring her lovely face.
“Don’t be a grump, Row.” After a grin at Piper, Ashley Adams sipped her tea, savoring the flavor thoughtfully. Ash always took her time.
“A grump? Wake up, woman.” Rowena shook her head. “I can’t imagine why on earth you’ve moved back here, Piper. Serenity Bay isn’t exactly a hot spot for someone with your qualifications.”
In unison they scanned the untouched forest beyond the deck, its verdant lushness broken only by jutting granite monoliths dotted here and there across the landscape. Beyond that, the bay rippled, intensely blue in the sunshine with white bands of uninhabited beach banding its coastline.
“Maybe Serenity Bay’s not a hot spot, but it is calm and peaceful. And she can sail whenever she wants.” Ash turned over to lie on her tummy on the lounger and peered between the deck rails, down and out across the water.
“True.” Rowena laid back, closed her eyes.
“Peace and quiet are big pluses in my books these days. I may just come and visit you this summer, Pip.”
The old nickname had never died despite years of protest. Strangely enough, Piper liked it now; it reminded her that they cared about her, that she wasn’t all alone.
“You’d leave the big city, Ash?” Piper struggled to hide her smile. It was impossible for her to imagine her friend ignoring the lure of the galleries and new artists’ showings she adored for more than a weekend.
“Yep. For a while, anyway.” Ashley’s golden hair swung about her shoulders as she absorbed the panoramic view. “I’d forgotten how lovely it is here. No haze of pollution, no traffic snarls. Just God’s glorious creation. This invitation to join you and Row for our annual weekend birthday bash has reminded me of all the things I give up to live in my condo in Vancouver. Especially after soaking in your posh hot tub last night! The stars were spectacular.”
“Total privacy is a change, too.” Rowena sighed as the sun draped her with its warmth. “You know, Pip, Cathcart House could bring in millions if you turned it into a spa.”
“It already is one,” Ashley joked. “Welcome to Piper’s own private chichi retreat. Which I’ll happily share