Christmas Clash (3 page)

That's my cue.
Before anyone else had a chance to even process the words, Candace stood and took two steps toward the microphone.

She easily smiled at the panel. “Good evening, councilmen and -women. I'm Candace Ellison and I own Kiss from a Rose, the flower shop on A Street next to The Pub.”

Her voice didn't shake or waver—a solid start. If only she'd come up with more than the beginning of a plan. Eh. She thought better under pressure anyway.

• • •

“I'm here tonight to speak against the convention center project proposal.”

She'd beat him—hell, everyone—up to the microphone with a determined set to her face, her dark raven hair bent slightly under her chin. Growing up, she'd always kept her hair long; the new look was different, flirty. He'd only seen her a couple of times since she'd moved in next door, and each time he'd wanted to reach out and gently tuck one side of her hair behind her ear—it looked soft and he was a sucker for touchable hair.
Touchable hair? What kind of weird thought was that?

His goal tonight stuck out clearly: Save his bar and the other businesses. However, the consequence of Candace then sticking around he could do without. She stood at an average height for a woman, five-foot-six or -seven, but the curves that rounded out those five-feet-plus were magnificent. Ample, without being too much—she moved with great sex appeal. He wouldn't say no to wrapping his hands around her hips and luscious butt.

This is ludicrous.
Why in the world was he thinking about her ass? After he figured out this council and convention center mess, he'd put dating at the top of his to-do list. He couldn't remember the last time he went on a date—the wine-and-dine type. Most of his relationships started in the bar and ended the next morning or two, sometimes as long as weeks later. His interest was rarely piqued past the standard getting-to-know-you conversation.

Candace's melodic voice summoned his thoughts back to the current hell he sat in.

“I believe you'll hear excellent reasons tonight for changing construction locations.” She swiveled her head briefly to acknowledge him and the five other business owners in the room.

She wore a well-fitted black suit, a light blue shirt, black heels, and silver jewelry. Since everything Candace did was calculated, the ensemble was no doubt a way to show power.
She's definitely one to watch.
Her actions equaled intentions.

Candace reached into a red purse Luke hadn't realized she had on her other shoulder, until now. Business folders with clear plastic covers appeared in her hands.

“I have prepared a portfolio for you that outlines three locations considerably better suited than the current proposed development site.”

Luke could only see her profile, but he detected a hint of a smile. Maybe he'd underestimated her connections or what she'd try to stop the wrecking ball.

“You'll find pictures of each location and reports that include a cost benefit analysis.” She motioned the folders at the panel.

“You can leave them at the table to your right and we'll pick them up after the session,” one of the male council members said.

“Great.” Candace moved two steps to set the stack down and returned to the microphone. “If you have questions, you know where to reach me.”

“It should be noted, Ms. Ellison, we hired the best surveyors to determine the land used for the convention center. I doubt they missed what you and your reports have found.” Jeffrey Dean folded his hands on the desk all of the council members shared.

Her lips turned into one white line. Luke could practically hear the silent threat passing between her and Dean.

“And just so you know, Mr. Dean, we,” she thrust her hand to her right, encompassing her fellow cohorts with her hand circle, “are not relying solely on this hearing to convince you. We have events organized so everybody will be well informed on exactly what's going on here.”

If Luke thought he and Candace were enemies, he clearly had not understood the word. They were best buds compared to the intense stare showdown she was having with the fifty-something-year-old president.
When had these community events been organized? Why don't I know about them?
He couldn't move. He could barely breathe waiting to see what happened next. If he could've moved his facial muscles, though, he might've smiled at her audacity.

“We will be campaigning fiercely over the next couple of weeks to keep our businesses, our livelihoods, intact,” Candace snapped. “There is no one we won't speak with and no skeletons we won't pull out of the closet to make sure we get to stay
right
where we are. Now, you have viable
new
options in those packets.” She jabbed her index finger in the direction of the table toward her neatly bound reports. “I suggest you familiarize yourself with the content and weigh your options. You
really
don't have many.”

The council members' faces all hardened as Candace fractured the line between uniting their groups and solidifying the battle lines. He didn't feel like smiling anymore.
Dammit, Candace, you can't scare them.

“Ms. Ellison, is there something in particular you're implying?” Dean's voice remained cool yet pointed.

“No, Mr. Dean, I am not implying anything at all. I think I've been quite clear tonight.”

“I'd hate to think that because of your family, you think you'll be afforded special treatment.”

“I happen to know that is
not
the case. Nor would I expect it. What I do expect, however, is
fair
and
just
treatment, not only for myself but for the other business owners in the radius that you have so cleverly designed for your new convention center.” She let her finger graze over her chin easily and briefly. “What
is
the name of the new convention center, Mr. Jeffrey?”

Name? They've named it already?

Dean cleared his throat. “It hasn't officially been named … yet. We haven't even broken ground.”

“So, the Jeffrey Dean Convention and Lodging Center isn't on the table?” Her voice sounded innocent, but Luke, and probably every other person in the room, knew otherwise.

“Well, that might be a name under consideration but, as I've stated, nothing is official.”

“I see. And when exactly did you put the proposed streets on the list of potential locations for
your
convention center?”

Candace looked expectantly at Zoey Graham, as did the rest of the audience. Zoey was a real estate agent by day and the city council's secretary by night.

Zoey shuffled papers. “June of last year.”

“Seven months ago.” Candace nodded and returned her increasingly icy glare to Dean. “That happens to be the same time I purchased a building on the proposed renovation block for my flower shop. Coincidence?” She paused for a breath before she continued. “I'd hate to think you're using the city, its funds, and these fine business owners to continue a personal grudge.”

“I will not stand for such accusations. Your time is up, Ms. Ellison.” Dean's stern voice became more powerful with each word. “And I doubt at this point your feeble attempts will make a difference. The final vote by the city council is set for December twenty-second.”

Holy mother of—was Candace saying what he thought she was saying?
Takes a special pair of lady balls to call out a senior council member in front of everyone.
She'd sure pissed off Dean, but how did she think this would help? She'd just put the final nail in their coffins. Now they'd never win the vote. He grumbled under his breath and unclenched a fist he'd formed while she spoke. His body felt hot and sick. He'd just watched the destruction of his family bar.

“I will not stand for you railroading seven fine businesses. You have not heard the last of us.” Candace spun on her heels and walked straight to the back of the room and through the wooden doors. There'd be no topping her tirade.

I went too far. Crap. I should've stopped after I gave them the alternative locations.
She briskly walked toward her car, letting the crisp winter air into her lungs.

He left me no choice.

He'd taunted her on purpose and she'd taken the stupid
bait and let her temper get the best of her. He'd probably expected her to back down. Ha. Little did he know she was just as willing to prod him back. The Ellison family business had taught her many things—the prim and proper side of politics, her socialite place in her family's world, and how to be fierce when it came to protecting her own business. She'd never back down concerning Kiss from a Rose.

Her minutes at the microphone might not have been pretty, but she'd been able to get the information she'd wanted out in the open. The only thing she'd wished she'd done was talk to her fellow business owners to let them know her suspicions beforehand.
Now they know they might lose their businesses all because of me.
The thought turned her stomach and burned.

How am I going to fix this?

“Hey! Wait up.”

At the sound of Luke's voice behind her, she sped up her pace. She needed to create a game plan. She couldn't think with him bugging her—or yelling. He'd never liked her or what she did. If she'd acted the opposite, he'd probably be mad that she was too nice.

“Candace. Wait.”

She heard his quick jog and felt his hand on her upper arm. The resistance was too much and she stopped. A quick look up to the starry, dark sky centered her aggravation. “Yes?”

He stood in front of her. “What in the
hell
was that?”

“I spoke against the convention center. What did it sound like?”

“You screwing us. After your little show, now he'll never stop. All thanks to you.”

“Thanks to me, you, we”—she moved her gloved hand back and forth—“now have a shot. They don't give a crap about us. Tonight was all for show.” She squinted at him briefly. “Tell me you knew that.”

“Of course,” he said. “But now you've sincerely pissed him off and most likely the entire council. You just ruined our chances. We'll have no recourse.”

She ignored his hard stare. She had all the experience of being an Ellison. They'd be fine. “Oh, but we do.” She crossed her arms over her red pea coat. “I was serious about what I said.”

“Did you have to needle him like
that
?”

She diverted her gaze to the ground, then back to Luke's green eyes. “I have it on good authority everything I said is true. I'm sorry, but I'm not letting him get away with it. Everyone needed to hear the facts.” She paused and when she spoke again her voice quieted. “Please don't hate me.”

Geez, great. I'm really asking Luke Carrigan to like me?
Her day had officially plummeted to a new low.

Luke's mood seemed to shift and the grit in his stare softened. “What's up with him and your family?”

She stared at him for a moment, wondering why he'd asked such an unexpected question. His handsome jaw line added to his ruggedly sexy face. “It goes back to business with my grandfather and dad, and, more recently, with my brother.”

“What did Blake do to him?” Luke asked.

“A little tussle with the bank that didn't go Jeffrey Dean's way. I had no idea of the severity until last week. I honestly never thought it would get to this point.”

“So tonight, you thought to yourself, what the hell? I'll just kick the hornet's nest?” He moved his hands to his hips.

The man was deliciously built—hard and defined with sparse freckles that decorated his skin. She was a tough-as-nails negotiator. Yet she found herself sidetracked—well, if she were being honest, she was only thrown off kilter by Luke and only as of late.

“No. I was not
that
naïve, thank you very much.” She jutted out her chin. “I have a strategy. The first step involved calling Dean out on his shenanigans.”

“Well done. You obviously succeeded. I'm afraid to ask what you've got brewing next.”

Luke's face tightened. She smiled because she loved being unpredictable, especially to him. He always thought he had her figured out. Maybe now he'd learn he didn't know her very well at all.

“We spread information to anyone and everyone who will listen.” She let out a deep breath into the frigid air. “You inspired me.” Maybe being nice to him would allow her to get to her car and home and into her heated blanket faster.

Luke's mouth momentarily fell open before he saw through her poorly formed compliment. “Nope. Keep on task. The plan?”

Candace had used all her energy in the meeting; she didn't have any left to fool him. “Fine. We start getting our narrative out there. People need to know what is going on, and they need to know our side.” Her tone strengthened as she spoke. “We have three weeks to make people so outraged, the council will worry about re-election consequences if they don't move the location.”

“Ya know, Ellison, sometimes you've got some good ideas.” He started to smile, then stopped, but the sparkle in his green eyes remained. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”

“You're already there.” She moved her hands to her coat pockets and shifted to put weight on her left leg—it was already numb.

“Then I certainly don't want to escalate over to your dark side.”

This time he didn't stop his grin and it commanded her full attention. Her gaze flicked down to his lips, then back up.
Stop checking him out.
She blinked and swallowed hard to regain her focus.

“Indeed.” She nodded once. If she was attracted to Luke Carrigan, she really needed to start dating again.

“When do we start organizing? Or do you have everything planned out already, too?”