“I’m busy then, too.”
His smile faded. “Too bad.” He took out his wallet and dug out a five-dollar bill, leaving it next to his empty plate. “Ladies, it’s been a pleasure.” He nodded toward Viola and the other occupants of her table. “Nice meeting you, folks. I hope to see you all around sometime.”
No one said anything until he was out the door.
“That guy’s cocky as hell,” Gus said. “Plus, he’s hiding something. I can see it in his eyes.”
Aha! Gus saw it, too!
“Well, I certainly liked him.” Betty Jean sighed heavily. “Until we found out who he was.”
Mimi gaped at Jenna. “Wow. I haven’t seen that much chemistry since Mr. Johnson’s class senior year in high school. Why didn’t you say yes to that drink?”
Everyone was looking at her now, including Aunt Viola, who was certainly going to want to know more about her relationship with Ben. Aunt Viola probably had Mom on speed dial. Jenna’s parents lived in Tampa, but that didn’t stop her mother from trying to butt into her love life. Between her mother and her aunt, they were on a mission to get Jenna married. If Aunt Viola thought Ben was a candidate on that front, then she was in for a big disappointment.
“I turned down the drink because I’m busy. In case you’ve forgotten, next year’s fiscal budget hasn’t been approved yet. Plus, you know, Gus is right. Ben Harrison is the enemy.”
“Keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer,” Mimi chanted.
“I agree. You have to have a drink with him,” Pilar said. “Get him talking about old times. See if he lets his guard down and gives away any information.”
“You want me to spy on him?”
“Not spy, silly. Just get him to open up to you. All I know is enemy or not, if I was single and a good-looking man was looking at me the way he was looking at you, well, I wouldn’t toss Ben Harrison out of my bed for eating crackers, that’s for sure.”
“Pilar is right,” Mimi said. “He could hardly take his eyes off you. Even though you were being a little…rough on him, don’t you think?”
“Rough?” Jenna sputtered.
“Unfriendly, then.” Mimi made a face. “It’s hurricane season?”
“I was just stating a fact. And as far as me being unfriendly, you didn’t hire me to play nice with the opposition, did you?”
“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you had a personal dislike for this guy that you barely remember from college,” Pilar said.
Aunt Viola got a dreamy matchmaker-matchmaker-make-me-a-match look in her eyes. “He certainly remembered you, that’s for sure. Did you notice how he got you to admit you weren’t married or had a boyfriend?”
You were the one who told him I didn’t have a boyfriend!
Gus crossed his arms over his chest. “Like I said, the guy’s slipperier than an eel.”
“Poor Tiffany.” Pilar giggled. “Someone should tell her she’s got competition up here in north Florida.” Before Jenna could say anything to that, Pilar’s smile disappeared. “Seriously, though, the guy scares me. If Ben Harrison plans to play dirty, then we have to, too. You absolutely have to find out what he’s up to. The future of Whispering Bay depends on it.”
Chapter Four
If the future of Whispering Bay depended on her cozying up to Ben Harrison, then they might as well surrender right now. Jenna had managed to put on a good front for Mimi and Pilar, at least, she hoped that’s what she’d done, but seeing Ben again after all these years had rattled her. She needed to shake off all these…feelings. A good long run should do the trick.
She changed into her running clothes, then checked her cell phone one last time for any new messages. There was a call from Larry Jefferson, one of the city council members, that she immediately returned, because if you didn’t call Larry back right away, then you’d better be either dead or in the hospital having life-saving surgery. But Jenna didn’t mind catering to politicians like Larry. She’d waited her whole professional life for this job and she planned to make the most of it.
After receiving her master’s degree in public administration from Cornell, she’d gone on to work in city government in Tampa, then after a few years there, she’d accepted an assistant city manager position in Clearwater, a smaller but vibrant beach town in the Tampa area. And now here she was as the top dog in Whispering Bay, a city of ten thousand that basically served as a bedroom community to nearby Panama City and Destin. Despite her upgraded position, some of her former colleagues thought she was taking a step backward. But they were wrong.
For one thing, Whispering Bay’s previous city manager, Doug Wentworth, who was currently sitting in jail awaiting trial for burglary, had left the city budget in shambles. Jenna relished the opportunity to take a negative and turn it around into a plus. There was also the situation with Earl Handy’s will. He’d bequeathed the city miles and miles of beautiful beachfront property specifically to be used for public access. That would mean setting up a whole new infrastructure—adequate parking, extra roads, restroom facilities, maybe even a park. She’d be up to her eyeballs writing grants, but that was her forte.
She had a five-year plan that included turning this city around financially and leaving it the number one destination to live and play on Florida’s Emerald Coast, all while preserving its natural beauty. If that meant working twenty-four seven, then so be it. Who needed sleep? She was on a mission. And the word failure had never been in her vocabulary.
She tightened her ponytail, checked the music settings on her phone and slipped in her earbuds. The first mile of her run was a warm up, then she quickly picked up her pace, ignoring the way the sweat trickled down her back. They would enjoy a short fall season, but that wouldn’t happen till mid-October, maybe. Then the weather would segue way into the cooler, but still mild winter months. A few times each year, the temperatures would dip below freezing, and a panic would set in among the residents, but otherwise winter in the Florida panhandle was about as idyllic as you could get.
Her cell phone pinged, interrupting her music to signal that a call was trying to get through. She slowed down her pace and automatically hit the answer button. It was probably Larry calling to complain about something.