Deserving Love: A Contemporary Romance Series (Nick & Lexi Book 1) (7 page)

You make it easy.
 

I think we’d get along fine.
 

Probably.
 

But I like this.
 

Me too.
 

Little less lonely.
 

Most days.
 

I think we should probably sleep.
 

It’d be the smart thing to do.
 

You need rest to battle the crazy lady.
 

And you have to fight off the advances of Mr. I know I’m hot.
 

Hopefully not. I’ve got a busy day tomorrow.
 

So do I. Not always a good thing.
 

Agreed.
 

Good night Sexy Lexi.
 

LOL. Good night Nick.
 

I lay in the bed for another hour or so thinking about the conversation. I really enjoyed talking with Nick, but typically we didn’t get too personal. In a way I found myself bothered by the idea that a woman he saw daily was attractive to him. But I noticed that he referred to me as sexy and not her. He thought she was crazy.
 

I played over in my mind whether or not we would get along. The problem that I had was that many men didn’t like my free-spirit sort of self. I tended to be very friendly and flirty, but not on purpose. It was just who I was.
 

Numerous men came into the shop and ended up becoming regular customers. They’d all ask me out. I wasn’t much into dating, so most of them I’d turned down. The few I’d been interested in turned out to annoy me so it didn’t go anywhere.
 

Men in general didn’t like seeing me flirt and tease with other guys. No one ever seemed to understand that for me, it wasn’t ever serious. It was just me being me. One of my first boyfriends had been super jealous. At the time I hadn’t even really understood that what I was doing was flirting.
 

We’d fought a lot and eventually he’d ended the relationship. It was the first time, but it wouldn’t be the last time that happened to me. Over the years I’d learned that the only way men would like me is if I’d be what they wanted. I was adamant about being myself, so I steered away from anything serious.
 

This also meant a lack of sex and, even more importantly, affection. It wasn’t that I couldn’t have both. It was that free spirited or not, I was old fashioned. I wanted commitment and feelings before I went into any of that. So I waited.

I wasn’t sure how Nick and I would fare if we were around each other in person. I thought we’d get along okay, but then sometimes I’d think that he probably couldn’t handle me. I was a believer in being strong and independent, female or not.
 

Still, drifting off to sleep I wondered what it’d be like to meet him. I imagined his smile was welcoming and warm. I thought that he’d probably kiss me. And I pictured him being the type to smack my ass as I walked by. He seemed just the type to do that sort of thing with his teasing and flirtatious nature.
 

I wanted to tell Kendall of the thoughts and feelings I’d begun having. I wanted to share with her that I enjoyed Nick more than I should. But I knew what she’d say. I was crazy. We needed to meet. I’d be disappointed. Something told me that wasn’t true. I had a feeling I’d enjoy his company very much.
 

But we could never meet. I wasn’t willing to risk it. I liked what we had far too much to see it end only because we met in person. And I knew that was what would happen.
 

I realized it was nearly two in the morning as I felt my eyes closing. I had a busy day of work and the community meeting. I needed to get some rest. And that’s exactly what I did.
 

My night was filled with vivid dreams, retail shops, Evan Monroe and Nick. Needless to say I woke up sleepy and wishing I could close my eyes for just a few more minutes. I battled the internal urge to have Kendall go and open the shop as I managed to stumble to the kitchen for coffee.
 

Checking my phone and seeing no new messages, I hunted down what I’d like to wear. I had to remember the meeting that was happening after work and the potential of standing in a crowded area for hours. That left me choosing a light skirt and short sleeve blouse with a cute pair of flats.
 

All the way to the shop I found myself hoping that Evan wasn’t there that afternoon. I knew he would be, but I tried to hold out and believe that he’d let us have our meeting in peace.
 

Fortunately, I had hours to drink coffee and prepare for the speech that I was going to give. I had encouraged many of the citizens to speak freely, as well.
 
After all, a community that stands up and fights for itself is one that will be successful and happy. So, we wanted to hear what people had to say. Even if it was negative.
 

*****

Chapter 7

Work seemed to crawl by even though the shop stayed fairly busy. I loved when the weather began to get nicer because business picked up. Not only did it help with the income, but it gave me a chance to chat with new people as more and more tourists came to the area to visit the Biltmore Estate and other attractions.
 

I loved getting to know the visitors, but on that day I was exhausted and trying to prepare for the town hall style meeting that was taking place. The Preservation Society had gotten permission to use the church that housed the arts fair for our meeting. It was the only place right in the area that was large enough to hold the crowd that we were expecting.
 

Whenever I found a break I tried to work on the speech that I was planning to make. My goal was to move the crowd with emotion. I wanted them to see how important Biltmore Village was and how badly it needed to remain as it stood. I wanted people to not just hear me, but feel the same way I did.
 

The meeting was scheduled for six in the evening, so I made sure to close promptly at five and head that way. I wanted to get there before the community started to show up. I had flyers to hand out and I wanted to be able to chat one on one with as many people as possible.
 

I was grateful to have arrived when I did because people began to file into the church about twenty minutes before the meeting. Most of the Society was there and we were all greeting and helping them find seats. By the time the meeting rolled around there was only standing room available. I was amazed at the sheer number of people who had shown up.
 

Evan Monroe stood in the back against the wall. He wasn’t dressed in his typical business suit. Instead he had on a snug brand name t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. I couldn’t help but notice that he was far more attractive that way. In fact, I had to remind my body that I loathed the man to stop the small escalation in my heart rate and the staggered breathing as I took in his muscular chest wrapped in light-blue cotton.
 

I made my way to the front of the crowd and took the microphone. Public speaking had never been a problem for me, but this was different. I needed the crowd to understand the importance and I had to keep my anger in check, regardless of what I might hear.
 

“Hello,” I began, smiling at the random faces in front of me. “I am Alexis Haraway. Many of you might know me from the candy shop about a block away.” I took a breath and noticed several people nodding recognition. “I opened the shop about three years ago and I’ve been serving and enjoying customers in Biltmore Village since then. I grew up in the Asheville area and I wouldn’t dream of living anywhere else.” I heard many voices agreeing with me. “One of the things I love about Western North Carolina is the beauty. We have an amazing land of natural beauty. Our towns and neighborhoods are covered by all of the new that is taking over bigger cities. We still have beautiful buildings, scenic views and stores where the owners know you by name.” Again I heard agreement.
 

“As a teenager, I spent my time hanging out with friends on these very streets. We came to the craft festival on the grounds of this very church.” I took another breath. “This is my home. And it’s your home.” I saw nods. “I’m not against retail centers. I think we’ve all been to some of them.” I had to tread carefully. I didn’t want to seem like I was against progress. “They are a convenience and they have their time and place.” I saw a look of surprise on Evan’s face.
 

“However, I don’t think Biltmore Village is the place. Our little community is special. We have the Biltmore Estate. We have some small mom and pop shops. We have some of the best food. And we have a small community of people that loves and supports the area.” Again I saw nods. “A retail center brings traffic, which is good for a shopping area. But when that traffic is going for the best deals, it’s a fact that they won’t choose our shops.” This time the crowd was vocal. “People like me would be out of business. Why would someone choose specially-made fudge and candy when they can hop over and buy some for less than a couple dollars?” The crowd was quiet. “I’m not trying to stop the progress of the world. I’m trying to save my livelihood, and the livelihood of the people that live and work here in Biltmore Village.”

I saw a look I didn’t recognize on Evan Monroe’s face.
 

“That’s why I ask that we fight against the development of the retail center. We need our community to stay as it is. There are plenty of locations that would be better suited. Don’t take our lives away from us. Thank you.”

I stepped down and walked towards the back of the room to cheers and applause from the crowd. If that was any indication, I had no doubt we had full support.
 

After I spoke, several community members stood up and shared their stories. Many of them owned local businesses. They talked of how those businesses paid their bills and sent their kids to college. Some of the vendors of the craft show were in attendance and a few stood and spoke of how they sold their goods to help support themselves and draw attention to homemade items.
 

There was even a spokesperson from the Biltmore Estate that reminded us of the heritage created by Mr. Vanderbilt and how adding things like retail centers would diminish the beauty and quality that came with Biltmore Village.
 

The speeches lasted well over two hours and I watched people speak from the heart about how they loved their community and didn’t want to see it changed. Several offered solutions by giving suggestions of areas that would be great for a retail center.
 

There were laughs and tears both in the crowd and from the speakers as memories were shared and a community rallied together in support of itself. I felt my heart fill with pride as I looked around the room.

Evan Monroe walked toward the front just as we were about to end the meeting.
 

“Mind if I speak?” he asked Patty, who was standing at the microphone.
 

“Of course Mr. Monroe,” she said and backed away to allow him a place.
 

I felt the breath catch in my throat, certain that his speech was going to cause me even more stress. The look on his face was hard to understand. It seemed as though he appeared nervous and unsure of what he was doing. That wasn’t something I was accustomed to seeing in him.
 

“Hi,” he began a slight sense of worry in his voice. “I am Evan Monroe. Most of you don’t know me because I’m not from the area.” His eyes scanned the audience and I followed them, noticing that no one seemed very fond of him. “I moved here about three months ago and I have to say, I love the area. I haven’t made very many friends though,” he laughed an edgy and nervous laugh. “As you probably already know thanks to Miss Haraway,” he looked at me with a smile, but I showed no expression. “I am the one in charge of the retail center development.”
 

The audience began to boo and yell things at him. I watched him falter slightly, appearing far less conceited and cocky than I’d ever seen him.
 

“Wait a minute,” he held up a hand. “Hear me out. Please?” the audience quieted. “I am not a bad man. I’m not out to destroy your home or businesses. Honestly, I’m doing the same thing each and every one of you does in a day. I’m trying to make a living. Support myself. Do what I love every day.”

Another round of boos, but they were a bit quieter and milder. I felt myself fill with pride. These people, my community, were going to stand up for our home.
 

“Retail centers aren’t all bad. They bring in a lot of advantages. For instance, areas with retail centers allow those who don’t have extra money to have things they need. They bring in jobs for those who don’t own businesses like the ones here in Biltmore Village. Those people deserve to work too. They deserve to have what they need too. They deserve to feed their families just like you do.”

 
“I admit,” he smiled, but it wasn’t the cocky smile I was used to seeing, “I come from a different area. Where I’m from, having these centers is viewed as beneficial. We don’t view progress as a negative to our towns.” A few boos came from the audience and one guy shouted out.