Page 7 of These Shoes Weren't Made for Stalking

The sharp rap of Mayor Holloway’s gavel echoed through the chamber. Whispers died down as he lifted his pudgy hand, commanding silence from the packed rows. His round face set in a grave expression as he spoke.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re here to address the recent act of vandalism against one of our beloved local businesses...”

As the mayor droned on, my attention wandered to the crowd. That’s when I sawhim.

Dominic Steele sat near the front, his broad shoulders and impeccable suit standing out among the sea of worried faces. What washedoing here?

As if sensing my gaze, he turned, his steel-gray eyes locking with mine. A jolt of electricity shot through me, and I felt my cheeks flush. His lips curved into a small, knowing smile before he turned back to face the mayor.

“Leo?” Penny whispered, nudging me. “You okay? You smell like a chocolate factory all of a sudden.”

I blinked, realizing my omega pheromones had spiked. “I’m fine,” I muttered, trying to focus on the meeting.

Mayor Holloway cleared his throat. “Now, I’d like to introduce a special guest. Mr. Dominic Steele, representing Vertex Acquisitions. He has some ideas about how we might revitalize our beloved historical district.”

“Vertex Acquisitions?” Penny leaned close. “Aren’t they the ones gobbling up mom-and-pop shops to build those soulless strip malls?”

My fingers drummed against my thigh. “And now they want our district,” I mumbled.

Mr. Steele stood, buttoning his jacket as he approached the podium. The tailored fabric hugged his broad shoulders in a way that made my mouth go dry. His powerful alpha scent filled the room, causing a ripple of whispers. A familiar flutter stirred in my stomach. He had no business looking that good when he was the enemy.

“Thank you, Mayor Holloway,” Mr. Steele began, his deep voice commanding attention. His icy silver gaze swept across the room, pausing to linger on me for a heartbeat too long. “I understand the distress this act of vandalism has caused your community. At Vertex Acquisitions, we believe in preserving the charm and character of historical districts like yours whilebringing in new opportunities for growth and prosperity. In fact, one of our first priorities would be implementing round-the-clock security patrols and surveillance systems to prevent these sorts of incidents from happening again.”

My fingers curled into my palms as his gaze swept over the crowd, studying us like an owl picking out its next meal from a field of mice.

“What kind of opportunities?” Mr. Tang called out.

Mr. Steele pulled out a vintage-style pocket watch, checking it with practiced grace before tucking it away. “Mixed-use developments. Boutique retail spaces. Perhaps even a luxury hotel to draw in tourism. All while maintaining the district’s historical facade, of course.”

“That’s developer speak for gutting our shops,” Penny whispered.

My fingers curled into fists as I shifted my weight in my chair. Someone needed to stand and challenge his corporate doublespeak. The last thing we needed was help from a white-collar wolf in an expensive suit, no matter how well he wore it.

“The Historical District Protection Act limits new construction,” I said, my voice cutting through the murmurs. “How do you plan to work around that?”

A ghost of a smile played at the corner of his mouth. “There are always ways to modernize while respecting tradition, Mr. Sterling-Hart. I’d be happy to discuss the details with you after the meeting.”

As Mr. Steele outlined his company’s vision, I felt a knot tighten in my stomach, twisting with each word he spoke. The wordssounded good on the surface, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this than met the eye.

“Dominic Steele…” Penny leaned in close, his voice hushed. “Isn’t that the guy from your shop? The one with the shoe emergency?”

I nodded, my mind racing as I tried to connect the dots between Mr. Steele’s sudden appearance at my shop and his presence here at City Hall.

The memory of his face in my shop’s lamplight flashed through my mind, his steel-gray eyes watching me intently as I’d examined the damaged heel of his Oxford. A man like him didn’t wander a small, historical district such as ours at that hour without purpose.

My grandfather always said you could read a person’s story in their shoes. Mr. Steele’s? His spoke of secrets.

As the meeting adjourned, I watched Mr. Steele shake hands with the mayor and several council members. His easy charm and confident demeanor seemed to win them over effortlessly. He moved through the crowd with practiced grace, his vintage pocket watch chain glinting against his tailored navy suit. Each handshake came with a perfectly timed laugh or a knowing nod—a masterclass in corporate diplomacy that made my skin crawl. Mayor Holloway’s round face practically glowed with approval,his fake smile wider than ever as Mr. Steele leaned in to share what appeared to be an inside joke.

“Come on,” I said to Penny, standing abruptly. “We need to get to Rosie’s. The police should be done with the scene by now, and she’ll need help cleaning up tomorrow.”

I pushed through the heavy oak doors of City Hall into the late afternoon sun. A flood of council members and citizens poured out onto the stone steps. Someone’s elbow jabbed my ribs. I stumbled, my leather satchel slipping off my shoulder.

I adjusted my bag, and turned, only to realize my pink-haired companion wasn’t beside me anymore. I scanned the crowd. “Penny?”

A sea of suits and blazers blocked my view. The steps descended in three tiers, each crowded with clusters of people discussing the meeting’s outcome.

“Over by the fountain, maybe?” I mumbled as I tried to catch a glimpse of a head of familiar pink hair or a whiff of cotton candy and citrus.