CHAPTER 29
What jackass is leaning on my doorbell at seven-thirty in the damn morning?
Ramona flung her sheets off and threw herself from the bed. She wrenched her robe from the closet and shrugged into it as she stomped down the hall to her front door. She braced her fingertips on the cold blond wood and rose up on her bare toes.
Quincy, that vindictive psychopath!
Ramona jerked the door open. “What the hell is your problem?” When he didn’t immediately respond, she stomped her bare foot. “Well?”
“You look so much younger without any makeup.”
That growling was coming from her throat. “What do you want, Quincy?”
He lifted a copy of The Trinity Falls Monitor chest high. “You’re free to leave Trinity Falls now.”
Ramona snatched the newspaper from him. “Take off your shoes if you’re coming in.”
She turned and marched into her living room. A photo of Doreen smiled up at her beneath the headline FEVER ENTERS RACE FOR MAYOR.
“Do you always wake up in such a bad mood?” Quincy’s words followed her.
Ramona spun on her bare heels. “Do you always lean on people’s doorbells at such an ungodly hour of the morning?”
Her gaze dropped to Quincy’s feet. He’d better have taken off his shoes before he’d lumbered across her white carpet. She relaxed as she noted his long, narrow feet covered in black dress socks. It was a sexy look for the bookish professor. Ramona pulled her gaze up past his black pants and gray jacket over a white dress shirt and black tie.
“It’s after seven o’clock in the morning.” Quincy walked farther into the room. “Most people are on their way to work, if they haven’t already arrived.”
“I’m. Not.” Ramona froze with the sudden realization of just how scary she must look.
She wasn’t wearing makeup. And she was certain her hair was matted and pointed in all different directions like a weather vane in a storm.
She closed her eyes. This was her worst nightmare. She dragged her fingers through her tangled hair and scrubbed a hand over her face.
In contrast, the university professor looked as though he’d been up for hours. His rugged features were clean-shaven. And his business clothes loaned his tall, bulky form the scary elegance of a Chicago mobster. Ramona’s body heated.
“How would I know your sleeping habits, Ramona?” Quincy’s voice had deepened. Its texture stroked her skin.
Ramona raised her eyes to his darkened gaze. She knew how he felt about her. Was that the reason she was responding to him? How much of what she felt was wishful thinking, and how much was the pull of his masculinity?
“Why did you say I was free to leave?” Her question was meant to remind him of the supposed reason for his obscenely early visit. She exhaled when he broke eye contact with her.
Quincy gestured toward the newspaper. “Last time, you ran unopposed for the mayor’s position. If Doreen’s willing to take on the job, you don’t have to run at all.”
Ramona regarded him through narrowed eyes. “You don’t think I should run for reelection? Has my performance been that bad?”
Quincy frowned. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
“What are you saying?”
“You don’t want to live here. If you campaign again, you’d be tied to Trinity Falls for another four years.”
Ramona tossed the paper onto her glass-and-silver metal coffee table. “I’ve done a good job with this town. I’ve implemented improvements and I’ve reduced the deficit.”
“You’ve done a good job under difficult conditions.”
She jerked her head toward the discarded paper. “Then why are people challenging me?”
“You’re missing the point. You’re not obligated to run for a second term. Step down next January. Then you can move to wherever you want to live. Start the life you’ve always wanted.”
“Where?” Ramona spread her arms. “Ean’s not going back to New York, and you don’t want me moving to Philadelphia with you.”
Quincy crossed his arms over his chest, a surprisingly broad chest for such a stuffy college professor. “Stop using Trinity Falls as a crutch.”
Ramona stumbled back. His words slapped her with the sharp sting of truth. “That’s not what I’m doing.”
“You’re an intelligent, capable, independent woman. You’d do fine on your own.”
“As well as I did as mayor?” Ramona blinked, battling back tears. “As well as the last time I moved to New York?”
Quincy studied her in silence for several long seconds. “What happened in New York, Ramona?”
She pressed her thumb and third finger against her eyes. “I failed. Just as I failed at being mayor.” Ramona grabbed the newspaper, crushing it with her fist. “Show yourself out.”
Ramona turned and hurried down the hallway, back to her bedroom. She slammed the door closed. Where would she go if she couldn’t go to New York or Philadelphia? Who would she be if she couldn’t be mayor of Trinity Falls? What was scarier than starting over? Starting over without a clear idea of who you were or where you fit in your community.
“Doreen’s announcement that she’s running for mayor made the front page.” Grady Weatherington, owner of Fine Accessories, shoved his copy of The Trinity Falls Monitor across the table. As usual, the town center group had pushed two of the square tables together to accommodate their members for the meeting.
“It’s a good article.” Ean looked up from the newspaper and smiled at his mother. He caught Megan’s approving regard from across the table. It was a nice change from the cool looks she’d been giving him since Friday evening. Was she ready to forgive him?
Grady ignored Ean. “What good is her campaign going to do? The election is a year away. Ramona could sell the center before then—or worse, raise our rents again.”
Ean studied the newspaper photo of his mother. She looked great. Happy. Confident. He’d vote for her. “Ramona won’t raise our rent before the election.”
“How do you know?” Grady sounded like a petulant child.
Ean passed the newspaper to his mother. “I doubt she’ll sell the center, either.”
“How do you know?” Grady’s voice held a bite of impatience.
Megan answered him. “With Doreen challenging her campaign, Ramona will be more aware of the impact her decisions will have on her chances for reelection.”
“But you don’t know.” Grady sighed, running his hands through his thinning hair. “Why didn’t you come up with something to help us now?”
“Like what?” Megan turned the question to Grady.
“I don’t know.” Grady threw up his arms.
“If you don’t know, how are we supposed to?” Tilda Maddox, the card store owner, rolled her gray eyes.
Grady turned toward Doreen. “No offense, Doreen, but I don’t know how introducing you as our candidate is going to help me pay my rent.”
“No offense taken, Grady.” Doreen inclined her head. “But my campaign is about much more than your rent relief.”
Ean smiled at his mother’s saucy response. He didn’t remember her having so much spunk. “My mother’s running to help the entire town.”
Grady grunted. “She can’t beat Ramona. No one can. Ramona’s got this town twisted to her will. No one wants to go against her.”
“Maybe you don’t, but Doreen does.” Belinda Curby, the beauty salon owner, tapped the tip of her magenta-painted fingernail against the Formica tabletop. “You must not have read the article.”
Grady scowled at her. “Is that supposed to be funny?”
“You see any of us laughing?” Tilda’s voice was as dry as dust.
Grady gestured toward Doreen. “What makes you qualified?”
Ean had had enough. “My mother stepped forward to help Trinity Falls, which is something she’s been doing since before I was born. No offense, Grady, but when have you ever done that? For as long as I can remember, you’ve looked to other people to find solutions to your problems.”
Doreen squeezed Ean’s upper arm. “That’s enough, Ean.”
“No, Doreen.” Grady folded his hands on the table. “Maybe he’s right. Maybe I was expecting Megan to solve my problems. But I’ve run out of time and no one can help me.” He stood. “I’m going to have to close Fine Accessories when this rental agreement is done.”
Belinda gasped. “Grady, are you sure?”
Grady nodded. “I just can’t afford the rent anymore. It’s draining my savings.”
Tilda fisted her hands on the table. “Grady, you coward.”
Grady frowned at her. “I’m not a coward.”
Tilda continued as though he hadn’t contradicted her. “You can’t give up now. We have to stick together.”
Grady turned toward Megan. “You were smart to diversify the bookstore. I should have done something similar with Fine Accessories. It’s too late now.”
Megan shook her head. “Grady, it may not be too late for you to revamp your company. Let me help you.”
Grady shook his head. “You can’t. I’ve run out of time and money. That’s what I told Ramona when I mentioned we were gonna run someone against her.”
Megan’s brows arched. “You told her?”
Grady’s cheeks flushed. “It came up in conversation.”
Ean listened to the other association members trying to rally the accessory store’s owner. Megan even offered to help him diversify his store. Still, Grady wasn’t willing to even try. “You give up too easily.”
Grady rewarded Ean with a glare. “My family has owned Fine Accessories for generations.”
Ean arched a brow. “Isn’t that even more of a reason to hold on to it?”
“I’ve done all that I can.” Grady’s gaze circled the other faces around the tables. “Good luck with Ramona. You’re going to need it.”
Ean considered the other business owners as they watched Grady walk away. Was he the first to go or the last?
Most of these entrepreneurs presided over businesses that spanned back generations. What would happen to Trinity Falls if its residents continued to lose the enterprises that represented their history and heritage?
He looked toward his mother. Doreen’s intelligent, dark gaze focused on each member of their group. She was attentive to what they had to say. She was engaged in the town and its people, interested in their needs. How could he have ever considered giving her less than his wholehearted support?
Instead of questioning her decision, he should have been asking himself what he could do to help the town. Well, he’d ask that question now.