Absolute Love: A Hot, Romantic Suspense Series, Book 3 (The Carlisle Sisters) (17 page)

His name was Evan Monroe and I hated him. That was saying a lot because I didn't like to hate anyone. But from the moment he'd made an appearance in my life, he'd been nothing but a problem.
 

Evan wasn't from Asheville, or the south for that matter. He was one of those from up north who thought he could waltz into our pretty little area and make it look like his home. I was on a mission to make sure that didn't happen.
 

"It
was
," I rolled my eyes and tried to ignore the anger I felt at just seeing him.
 

Evan was a nice looking man. If he weren't fighting to ruin what I loved most, I would probably have been attracted to him. But he seemed to think that his dark hair, darker complexion and piercing blue eyes were enough to get him anything he wanted. That included the permission to build a retail center in my precious Biltmore Village. I was trying like hell to stop him.
 

"Life would be much simpler if you would quit viewing me as the bad guy," he smiled as if he were trying to impress me.
 

"Aren't you the one in charge of the development?" I asked, looking up and letting him know that his looks did not impress me.
 

"Yes," he answered. "But this could be beneficial for everyone."

"Tearing up my little village with big name box stores and chains is not beneficial for anyone," I started to raise my voice. "Look around. This place is filled with history. The shops are small, quaint mom and pop affairs. There is no reason to bring that nonsense in here. It'll ruin the landscape and it'll ruin the village!

"I admire your passion," he admitted. "But you're failing to see the big picture. It'd bring more business into the area. Shops like yours would have more customers. There would be jobs. And the income it could bring to the village would be helpful in maintaining it."

"I do just fine," I snapped. "There are plenty of jobs in Asheville and surrounding towns. Business is great at the moment and it's the right kind of business. Those looking for discounted bargains aren't about to walk in and buy fudge from a specialized candy maker. Our village is perfect as it is."

"I would be willing to design the center in a way that conforms to the look and feel of the place," he offered.
 

"You will
never
have my support Mr. Monroe. I will fight the development of this center
 
until I win or it kills me. Take your northern money somewhere else," I turned away from him. "We don't need it here."

He never spoke another word. I listened silently until I heard the bell chime on the door. Turning around I was grateful to see that Evan Monroe was gone. Something about that man made me crazy. I'd had to deal with my share of potential developers as a part of the Society, but this one really set my blood boiling. Maybe it was the condescending way he looked at me. I wasn't sure.
 

I decided to put him out of my mind and focus on my day. I had a meeting with the Society later that evening and we could discuss our plans further. At the moment, I was going to enjoy my shop and the customers that would no doubt enter it. The Biltmore House had their Festival of Flowers going on and that always drew in large crowds of people. I was very fortunate in that word of mouth about my shop had spread and most people that came into the Village for the day would stop in and try out my candy.
 

It made years of cooking school worthwhile even if I'd gone a completely different path than what I'd intended.
 

"Good morning, Alexis," I heard Mrs. Whipple's greeting before I'd even heard the door chime. "How are you doing this week dear?"

She was one of my most regular and faithful customers. At nearly eighty years old she still made a weekly trip to the shop to pick up various candies. She told me that she kept them on hand for when her grandchildren and great-grandchildren would visit. Her theory was that they deserved a treat from grandma and she was going to make sure they had one.
 

"I'm great," I lied, hiding my anger. "How are you?"

"I'd be better if I could still make this stuff myself," she laughed. "But as long as I see the smiles on the faces of my babies it doesn't matter much."

"No doubt they adore you, Mrs Whipple," I smiled and began to bag up her usual choices. As we chatted I found myself forgetting about the man that made my life hell. Instead, I noticed my mind wandering to Nick and whether or not he wanted to someday be someone's grandpa.

*****

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