Annie's Neighborhood (Harlequin Heartwarming) (20 page)

“Oh, that.” Annie studied her bare toes.

Sky stepped forward, clasped her around the waist and pulled her tight him. Then he kissed her. Not a friendly peck as in
I want to be friends.
He put spark and sizzle into the kiss. After Annie’s hands crept up his chest and clenched the fabric of his shirt, he slowly released her. “I came to say I lied. I don’t want a new job somewhere else. And I want us to get tangled.” Leaving his message hanging there, Sky withdrew and bounded down her porch steps, whistling on his way to his cruiser. He jumped in and with a low growl of the Crown Vic’s engine, he drove off.

Barely around the block, he called himself an idiot and circled back, disappointed to see that she wasn’t still standing in her doorway. What had he expected? Annie was the one who’d said she didn’t want any romantic entanglements. He needed to give her time, let his message sink in.

Chapter Twelve

A
NNIE
HALF
THOUGHT
she’d walk out the door in the morning and Sky would be sitting in his car. He wasn’t. Nor did he come down the street from his house to the Culver work site. She expected him at noon for sure. But lunchtime came and went without his appearing or even calling.
So much for his big speech about wanting them to “get tangled.”
But wow, his kiss! Annie’s mind stalled every time she thought about it.

She had to learn from Sadie that the Louisville cops had apprehended their drive-by shooter. “Can you believe the idiot kept the gun rather than disposing of it?” Sadie said when she stopped by to give Annie her diagrams for the teen center. “Koot’s covering Sky’s shifts, because he’s at the Louisville station, sitting in on the interrogations. The two guys in custody are believed to be pretty high up in the Stingers command.”

“You make them sound like paramilitary instead of garden-variety thugs,” Annie said.

“That’s how they operate, according to Koot. I assume Sky told you Heywood got off with a promise to stay in school and do community service. Roy Dell had a prior run-in with the law, so the judge gave him a year’s probation and ordered him to go to a local community college to take GED classes. Sky said you suggested that. Roy Dell also has to do community service. They’re on my recruitment list for the center.”

“Sky didn’t tell me any of that last night.” Annie frowned.

Davena Culver had joined them. “It must’ve slipped the chief’s mind. He was probably preoccupied with his son. Chantal heard about Heywood and Roy Dell. She likes Heywood, and was disgusted that he let Roy Dell rope him in. She hopes this was a lesson for him. By the way, Chantal and some of her girlfriends can paint or do whatever needs to be done at the teen center after school lets out next week.”

Annie, who’d reviewed Sadie’s plans, rolled them up again. “You’re moving so fast, I’d better have a heart-to-heart with the city manager today.”

“Does that mean I shouldn’t order the prefab room dividers or talk to Roger and Charlie about installing them yet?” Sadie raised an eyebrow at Annie.

“No, go ahead. I’ll make myself presentable and pay Mr. Loomis a visit. I have more than the teen center to discuss with him. So, if you see fireworks exploding from his office, send the SWAT team to rescue me.”

Sadie laughed. “No SWAT teams in Briar Run. We’re down to four overworked cops.”

The women split up and Annie went home to shower and rehearse her half of the conversation she needed to have with Aaron Loomis.

* * *

T
HE
CITY
MANAGER
’
S
office—the former mayor’s office—was next door to the police station. Annie looked for Sky’s car, but apparently he wasn’t back yet. In Briar Run’s municipal offices, Aaron Loomis and a lone secretary sat at their respective desks. Annie gave her name to the secretary. “I’d like a word with Mr. Loomis if I may,” she said.

The woman got up and spoke to the balding man ensconced behind a glass enclosure. Annie saw him don black-rimmed glasses, gaze at her and nod curtly.

“He can spare ten minutes, Ms. Emerson,” the secretary said.

Annie picked up her briefcase and swept into an office stacked with books, folders and piles of paper. She was glad she’d worn her most professional suit. Annie extended her hand and Loomis shook it. “Hello, I’m Annie Emerson. I don’t know if you recall, but we’ve spoken before.”

The man rocked back in his chair. “Yes...I keep track of newcomers,” he said dryly. “Especially troublemakers.”

“Ouch.” It didn’t slip past Annie that Loomis didn’t offer her a seat. “I guess that means you’re aware of how busy I’ve been with residential revitalization.”

He grunted. “So far it looks okay,” he said grudgingly.

“Glad it meets with your approval. I’ve taken time out from painting homes to bring you the deed for a new teen center I’m donating to the city.” Annie opened her briefcase, took out a folder and set it in the center of his messy desk.

He snapped forward in his creaky chair. “Ms. Emerson, you can’t give the city a teen center.”

“I already did.” Annie tapped the folder. “The building is free and clear. I’m exploring grants I hope will ultimately cover operating expenses. Until that’s firm, I plan to cover the costs. If you’re agreeable, I’d like to name it the Ida Vance Teen Center after my late grandmother. She was one of Briar Run’s earliest residents.”

Aaron Loomis slicked both hands over his head several times. Annie wondered if that was why he was going bald at an early age.

“This is exceedingly unusual.” He opened the folder. “Did the county clerk say this was legal? Who donates property to a city? Is it even wise? A center for teens? I know you understand that we have gang activity. Will this strain our already strained police force?”

Annie waited for him to wind down. But he continued to scowl at her. “There’s more,” she said in her most dulcet tones. “This may be trickier, and I’ll need your assistance. Do you mind if I clear off a chair and pull it up to your desk?”

“I have a feeling it won’t do any good to say no.”

Removing piles of paper from a chair, Annie dragged it over. She took another folder from her briefcase. “If this idea works, it’ll mean considerable business revenue for the city.”

That got his attention as nothing had so far. Annie unfolded a plat map and put her finger on the defunct factory. She rushed through her plan to reopen the plant, her description almost identical to the way she’d explained it to Sky the previous day. Unlike Sky, Loomis had the benefit of her charts and graphs. He scanned one after the other.

“The corporation pulled the plug on the glove factory the day after I started this job,” he said. “The demise of the city’s largest employer hit city revenues hard. The result has been cutbacks in all services.” He glanced up, engaged now. “What makes you think there are enough former employees around who’ll be amenable to your plan? More important—exports to Argentina? That’s global trade. If they’re in the market for gloves, aren’t they buying them now?”

Annie handed a sheaf of magazine and newspaper articles she’d printed out. “Their vast cattle companies and agricultural industries import a staggering number of cotton and leather gloves. These articles don’t name their current supplier, but all the reports indicate displeasure with inferior products. Our first step would be to send samples to the people named in these articles. But to answer your first question... From casual conversations I’ve had with former employees who held major positions, I know there’s interest. I gather tooling up would take weeks, not months. Of course, someone needs to find a source for raw material.” She pulled out another paper. “I did some calculations. So, say we even had to import leather from Argentina and ship back the finished gloves, there’s still a fair profit.”

He studied her material a while longer. His secretary came to the door. “I’m going on break. You said ten minutes.” She tapped the face of her watch.

Loomis waved her away. “I’m fine, Myrna. Ms. Emerson is almost finished. She’s leaving me with a lot to think about.” He rose, and Annie knew she was being dismissed. She got up and shut her briefcase.

“Thank you for your time. We’re painting on Dusty Rose Street and will be there for several days. Or I may be at the teen center. I’ll give you my cell number, since I think we should move on this ASAP,” she said, jotting her number down.

She was almost out the door when Loomis called, “Somebody told me you’re a social worker.”

“I used to be. I’m more of a general contractor now.”

“My older sister is a social worker. She’s a know-it-all busybody, too.” He smiled and his voice softened. “Our parents died when she was sixteen, and I was twelve. Her ability to juggle a lot of balls in the air at one time was what got me raised. I’ll delve further into this idea of yours and be in touch.”

At least he hadn’t thrown her out,
Annie told herself as she put on sunglasses. Again she checked for Sky’s cruiser; it still wasn’t in the lot. More disappointed than she cared to admit, she headed home to change back into her painting clothes. On the way she decided that since she was dressed professionally, this would be a good time to seek potential staff for the teen center. She’d come prepared with information and with applications she’d created the night before.

As it turned out, Sadie was at the center so Annie went in. “Sadie,” she called into the cavernous room, “can I twist your arm to go to the schools with me? I want to have a word with the teachers, counselors and coaches about maybe working here.”

“Hey, I’m your gal. I didn’t see fireworks from the municipal building. I take it you won Aaron over? Oh, no wonder! You look like a million bucks.”

Annie grimaced. “I don’t know about ‘won over.’ He’s concerned the center will add to an already heavy police workload. Is there a way we can keep a lid on who comes and goes?”

“If we post a one-time-infraction-and-you’re-out rule and stick to it, yes.”

At the school they found more interest from teachers than Annie had dared hope. Later, returning to the pickup, Sadie reached over and patted Annie’s back. “It wouldn’t have occurred to me to bring applications tailored to each position we need to fill. How do you manage to do everything you do, Annie?”

“I don’t sleep,” she quipped, except it was more true than not.

“It helps that you don’t have a man demanding your time and attention. Although having a man in your life isn’t all bad.” Sadie winked.

The memory of Sky’s kiss left Annie silent, and also wondering about his prolonged absence. “Do you worry a lot about the dangers associated with Koot’s job?”

“Honey, he’s been a cop all our married life. But who was the first in our family to get shot? Me! Hey, you sound like a woman who needs to know. Are you and Sky finally, uh, seeing each other?”

“The short answer is not really. Let’s say there’s interest, but he runs hot and cold, probably due to his past experience.”

“What about you?” Sadie paused before exiting Annie’s pickup.

“Yeah, me, too. I’m pretty independent.”

“Do you like Sky’s son?”

Annie’s smile was quick and genuine. “He’s darling. And smart. I feel bad for Sky that he doesn’t have Zachary more.”

“That’s a good answer from someone who sounds as if she’s contemplating a romance with a divorced dad.”

“Contemplating isn’t committed, Sadie.”

“Give it time. Well, I can’t do any more here today, so I think I’ll go home. I ordered the walls, which is step one. Tomorrow’s Saturday and Davena’s bringing over a carload of teens. I’ll get them to scrub floors. Oh, I almost forgot. Here’s a list of the paint I need. If you can get it to me by Sunday, I’ll be ready next week when the prefab stuff comes to put Roger and Charlie to work.”

Annie took the list. “Sadie, I’ve decided to set up a bank account strictly for the center. I’ll give you a debit card. That’ll save us both time. I’ll pay the salaries, yours included, out of a different account.”

“You don’t need to pay me! This project is keeping me from having a midlife crisis.”

They both laughed, and Annie waited until Sadie got into her car before she left. Annie wondered whether it would be smart to install security alarms like the ones she saw at the schools, or whether arranging for an on-site security person might be better. She placed that on her list of questions to run past Sky. Maybe she should call him.
No! What would he think?

She didn’t see him that day or all weekend. Her paint crew doubled on Saturday. They finished Davena’s house and were able to start on two adjacent homes, bringing them ever closer to Sky’s.

Annie divided her time between painting and the teen center, always on the lookout for Sky’s cruiser. By the end of Tuesday, with the two smaller homes done, she’d begun to think he was having second thoughts about his late-night visit to her home―or that it hadn’t happened and she’d dreamed the whole thing. She had to admit she was baffled. Her list of things to discuss with him kept growing.

Wednesday, to her shock, he showed up at the painting project, which was two houses from his, acting as if he hadn’t been away for five days. He had Zachary in tow. Annie was filled with so many doubts she didn’t go to greet him; instead, she let him find her. Which he did by knocking on the aluminum ladder she stood on, painting an upper story.

“Hey, up there. My helper and I have a few hours. What can we do?”

Annie gazed down on a pair of upturned smiles so alike and so endearing her breath caught somewhere between her lungs and her throat. “Paint, uh, you can paint. The sanders are all in use by guys at the back of the house.” She wanted to shout,
Where have you been?
In deference to Zack’s excited hello, Annie calmly climbed down and acted as if Sky hadn’t been MIA for five days.

“I wanted to paint Daddy’s house today,” Zack said, sounding disappointed.

“I’m sorry. I haven’t bought his paint yet,” Annie said. “He hasn’t called to tell me what colors to get.” She aimed small daggers at Sky, who seemed oblivious. “But, Zack, I bought a couple of things for you. They’re in my pickup. Wait here, I’ll get them.” She climbed down and handed her dripping brush to Sky.

“You got something for me?” Zack skipped alongside her.

“I did.” Annie opened her pickup and removed a sack. “First, I have a kid’s version of what’s called a carpenter apron. It ties in back and is made of plastic-covered fabric so paint can’t soak through and ruin your shirt and pants.” Annie helped him into the apron that hung a little past his knees. The pattern was masculine with pictures of pliers, wrenches and paint cans. “At the hardware store where I buy our paint, they had premade wooden birdhouses. You remember how you couldn’t decide what colors you liked for your dad’s house? Well, I bought three birdhouses, a packet of small brushes and sample cans of the paints you and your dad were debating. I’ll put the birdhouses on newspapers under that tree. You can try different colors on each house and then you and your dad can go buy the ones you like best.”