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“The guy who now gets those spaces for free.”
“Shit!”
She grunted and stomped her foot. Merle’s brows disappeared beneath the bill of his hat as he took in Summer’s tantrum. Not that she blamed him. To most of Ridgefield, Summer was the sweet, if not a bit shy, bookworm who preferred glasses to contacts and paperbacks to a tablet. She was always cordial, had a smile for everyone, and never lost her shit—at least publicly. She was as steady and even-keeled as they came.
Yet, around Wes, all that cool and calm seemed to evaporate.
Morning after morning, she’d called the police to file a noise complaint against him when his crew started work before seven. Officer Joe had told her that the owner was just paying the fines, so he stopped showing up. She’d complained to every city official she knew, but everyone was too excited by the kind of commerce the new store would bring to the neighborhood. Even her fellow shop owners had allowed themselves to be charmed by the book-wielding charlatan, who’d promised that BookLand would raise the value of every business in this historic part of downtown.
He’d failed to mention that it would also raise the rent. So when these small business owners went to re-up their lease, they’d find themselves looking at a fifty percent increase. Summer had done her research with comparable communities, crunched the numbers, and fifty percent was a optimistic estimate. Luckily, she owned her building, but few of the others did.
Then there was her shop, which would be lost in the shadow of the giant. She had rocks to throw; she just wasn’t sure she could aim high enough to take down Goliath.
“Is this some game?” she asked.
His smile vanished and he seemed almost confused by her comment. “It’s business, love. You’re the one who started the war, and the first rule in war is know your enemy’s weakness.”
“I thought the first rule of war was to keep your friends close and your enemies closer. I guess that would be hard though, since Satan doesn’t have friends.”
“And that’s your weakness.”
She blinked. “What? Having friends? You should try it. It might soften the Goliath complex you have going on.”
And the scowl was back. “No—believing in the good in people.”
“That’s a weakness?”
“It is in business.”
Just then, a double ping sounded. They both looked at Merle, who shrugged. “It’s not me.”
Their eyes met again as they each fished their phone from their pocket. Summer’s mouth went slack when she saw the notification from RoChance. She had her first match. Not wanting to betray the fact that she was on a dating app, she casually pretended like it was an incoming text. Only, when she swiped open her phone and saw the little cupid arrow above the picture of her soulmate, she practically dropped her cell. Horror. Sheer horror coursed through her at the picture filling her screen.
She looked up to find Wes looking back, a superior smile on his face. “Did you just swipe right on me?” he asked.
“There is RoChance in hell that I’d ever swipe right on you. And this isn’t a swipe-right kind of app.” Cleo had told her as much. “It’s more of an AI Cupid at play. It pings every time a potential soulmate is in the vicinity.”
“I wouldn’t know,” he said. “My brother signed me up as a joke.”
He said it as if only a romantically challenged idiot would be on the app. “For the record, I didn’t sign up either. My friend did,” said Summer.
“That would be me,” Cleo said, and Summer nearly jumped. She’d been so distracted by the pompous ass in front of her, she hadn’t even realized Cleo had joined them or that a crowd had gathered. A crowd who was watching them like they were an episode ofDays of Our Lives. “I am the friend in question.”
“‘Friend’ is a strong word,” she hissed at Cleo, who just smiled. “And clearly the algorithm is broken!” She shoved her phone back in her pocket, watching as Wes did the same. They stared each other down, neither willing to give in.
“So, about the price of the tow . . .” Merle began.
“I’ll get it,” they said in unison, and the crowd fell silent.
“Fine, you pay,” Summer finally said. “Think of it as the cost of war.”
“It’s just one battle, love. The war is far from over.” With that, Wes spun on his thousand-dollar dress shoes and disappeared into his store.
“Well,” Cleo said with a smile. “That was different.”
Chapter 5
family ties