Angels Don't Cry. Amanda Stevens

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СКАЧАТЬ to change your position, I hope.” Viola’s voice rose in corresponding increments as Ann’s longer legs widened the distance between them. “There’re a lot of people counting on you to represent us. We don’t want Crossfield razed to make room for shopping malls and condos! You tell them that, Ann!” Viola called after her as Ann opened the glass door and stepped inside the air-conditioned corridor.

      Her high heels clicked against the black and white mosaic tile floor as she hurried across the lobby to the council chambers, pausing outside the door for a moment to take a deep breath.

      Go on, open the door. she commanded herself. Get it over with. You’ll probably find he’s nothing like you remembered. You won’t feel a thing.

      “Famous last words,” she muttered as she reached for the knob and turned it. She opened the door, stepped inside, and stopped, her eyes sweeping the room with one frantic glance.

      The blood pounded in her ears. Her stomach gave a violent quiver. Her knees began to tremble as a powerful relief flooded through her. He isn’t there. It had all been a mistake. Drew hadn’t come back.

      “Ann! Over here! We’re saving you a seat!” At the sound of her name being called, Ann stepped into the large room where dozens of folding chairs had been set up for the town meeting. The Historical Society had grouped themselves toward the front of the room, and several of the matrons were emphatically motioning her to join them as they zealously brandished placards with messages ranging from NO BULLDOZING IN CROSSFIELD to simply RIVERSIDE DEVELOPMENT GO HOME.

      With a reluctant sigh Ann started toward them, noting that the only vacant chair left in the whole room was smack in the middle of their group between Bernice Ballard and Wilma Gates, who were staring at her with avid curiosity. Like a horde of locusts, they descended on her as soon as she sat down, stinging her with questions from every side.

      “Have you seen him yet?”

      “What’s he like now?”

      “What did he have to say for himself?”

      “What’s he look like?”

      Before Ann could open her mouth to answer, the side door opened into the council chambers. Mayor Sikes walked into the room, followed by Drew Maitland, and the entire Historical Society took a collective breath.

      “Drew...” His name slipped through Ann’s lips on her own suspended breath as a thousand memories—images from a lifetime ago—cascaded through her. Stolen moments by the river, forbidden longings during hot, sleepless nights. And love, so powerful and enduring that it hadn’t gone away...even after he’d married her sister.

      Oh, God, why now? Ann thought desperately. Why now, when he was ten years too late? Why now, when all that was left between them were the memories? And Aiden. Always Aiden. She was almost a physical presence in the room with them, reminding Ann anew that this man had broken both their hearts.

      Wilma Gates found her voice first. “Oh, Lord, he’s still a handsome devil,” she said reverently, smoothing back a wisp of her bluish gray hair. “And still wild as the wind, I don’t doubt.”

      “Girls, we’ll have our work cut out for us opposing him,” Bernice predicted, her seventy-year-old eyes snapping with excitement. “That boy could charm the bloomers right off a virgin, I’ll wager.”

      Ann’s face flamed at that particular observation, her mind flying back to one moonlit night on the bank of the river, a night when she’d been lying in Drew’s arms, their clothes strewn in the grass around them. She had stopped him, of course, before they’d gone too far. After getting dressed, Drew had held her in his arms again, telling her it was all right, that he’d wait for her until she was ready.

      He hadn’t waited, though, Ann thought bitterly. In the end, he hadn’t waited for her.

      She watched him walk through the room, stopping to talk with old friends and acquaintances, shaking hands and smiling, his dress and demeanor both elegantly understated. Her gaze slipped over him taking in with reluctant precision the beautiful cut of his gray, double-breasted suit, the stark white of his shirt splashed with the silk brilliance of his tie.

      Older, perhaps a bit harsher-looking than she remembered, Drew Maitland was still the most compelling man she’d ever known. His eyes were as blue as the summer sky, and his light brown hair was still thick and sun-streaked and made for a woman’s fingers.

      What riveted her attention most, though, was the air of total self-confidence, which she remembered only too well. As an adolescent full of insecurities and self-doubts, she’d been drawn to him for his inner strength and confidence as surely as she’d been attracted to his astonishing good looks.

      The combination was still just as devastating, she thought with a warning quiver in the pit of her stomach. And still just as dangerous.

      Beside him, Crossfield’s short, rotund mayor strutted and blustered with self-importance, looking like nothing so much as a bantam rooster in a coop full of hens as he back-clapped and smiled his way through the crowd. The comparison was inevitable, and Mayor Sikes fell short in more than just stature.

      Completely undaunted, however, the mayor stepped to the podium and briskly rapped his gavel against the scarred wooden top as he called the meeting to order. There was a last-minute scramble as the stragglers from outside dashed in, and then the shuffling of feet and the low rumble of voices reluctantly faded away as everyone turned with anxious, expectant expressions to face the front of the room.

      For good measure Mayor Sikes cleared his throat a couple of times as he surveyed the room over a pair of antiquated bifocals perched on the end of his nose. “Folks, we’re going to go ahead and get started here. As most of you already know, a company called Riverside Development has shown a great deal of interest in our community of late...”

      As the mayor rambled on, Ann shifted restlessly against the cold back of the metal chair. Unconsciously she crossed her legs as she fervently tried to keep her eyes focused straight ahead. To avert her gaze even fractionally would bring Drew into her line of vision, and every time she looked at him, her heart seemed to stop.

      “...I know we’re all anxious to hear the latest word from Riverside,” the gravelly, grating voice droned on. “But first, there are one or two other matters of business we need to address. Last month Bernice Ballard requested the addition of a Stop sign at the corner of Elm and Pecan. The council and I have taken that request under serious consideration...”

      As the mayor’s voice droned relentlessly on, Drew found his attention straying. Not far. Just a few feet away, where Angel Lowell sat rigidly facing the front of the room, apparently absorbed in every word being spoken. An ironic smile touched his lips as he noticed the legion of women surrounding her and the protest signs they were holding.

      It had been his idea to come to Crossfield to try to smooth the way for the multimillion dollar project Riverside Development had in mind. For months now, since they’d gone public with their plans, Riverside had met with steady opposition from a number of Crossfield citizens and property owners in the area. As vice president of public relations for the huge conglomerate that owned Riverside Development, Drew had seemed the perfect choice to deal with the lingering antagonism his company had generated. After all, he’d grown up here, and even with his cloudy past, he had a better chance of gaining their trust and support than an outsider would.

      But at that time he hadn’t realized his antithesis would be the one person who had good reason to despise him and everything СКАЧАТЬ