Convincing Landon (7 page)

“The bidding will probably be fierce, since the area is one of the most attractive in the city. Currently, there is only one lot left in the area. If a homeless shelter or similar project doesn’t make it, the renewal will have to depend on shops and other businesses.” Elaine laughed. “Maybe it wouldn’t endanger the council’s project, but you and I both know it would be a lost opportunity to make a real difference. So, we have an edge in terms of the moral high ground, and some real support from the city council.”

“That definitely sounds interesting.” Staying on for a project like this would give him the opportunity to experience Riverside as it was now—see if he liked it, without having to make the full commitment of moving back.
Make sure I can stay away from Kendall
. He snorted. As if they’d even move in the same circles anymore. From what he’d heard—Greg not being able to shut up—Kendall was an ice-cold career man now, working all hours of the day and night. There was no danger of their paths crossing.

“You’ll do it?” Elaine whooped. “Thank you so much, that’s such a load off my mind. You know what the big boss can be like once he’s up on his soapbox. Helping save young people everywhere is in his blood, and he won’t rest until we have a branch in every major city in Texas.”

“That’s a long way to go.” Landon chuckled. “I’m totally with him, don’t get me wrong. I’m just not quite so fanatical about it.”

“Few people are.” Elaine laughed. “So all we can do is conquer Texas one city at a time.”

“Okay, got it. Email me the details and I’ll get right on it on Monday.” He’d probably have a little look around the area before then. It couldn’t hurt to be prepared by getting a feel for the place and knowing what was happening on the ground.

“There’s a council meeting about the inner city cleanup project on Monday afternoon. I’ll send you the details. It would be great if you could attend.” Elaine sounded very relieved. “Thank you so much. I’ll make sure your clients here are notified and taken care of by someone else for the time being.”

“Appreciate it.” Landon looked at his watch. It was time to get back to chopping green stuff for the salads. “I’ll email you any questions and will probably talk to you on Monday, after the city council meeting.”

“You do that. Thank you again, and Happy Thanksgiving, Landon!”

“Happy Thanksgiving to you as well.” He closed the phone and leant back in the small kitchen chair, catching his mental breath.

“That is the best news ever.” Greg came over and slapped his shoulder. “I’m so happy you’ll be around for a little longer.”

“You don’t mind?” Landon looked up into the grinning face of a clearly happy Greg.

“Mind? Hell, no, I’m ecstatic.” Greg smiled warmly. “What could be better than you living here again, just like old times?”

“Except money won’t be so tight.” Landon smiled. This was shaping up to be one of the best Thanksgivings ever.

* * * *

Riverside, Texas

Monday, December 1, 2008

Landon sat in the central waiting area of the city council meeting rooms, staring into the grandiose reflection pool. The entire city council building was extremely well maintained, conveying an air of wealth and prosperity. There were plants and fresh flowers everywhere and no trace of the more usual run-down atmosphere he’d seen in some of Houston’s municipal buildings. If this ‘perfect image’ was what the city’s tax income went towards, he wasn’t surprised the homeless in Riverside had a hard time of it. The quick research he’d done, based on Elaine’s initial information and his own wanderings around the centre and southern areas, had left him somewhat depressed.

The state of the buildings was one thing, but that wasn’t the worst problem by a long shot. A lot of the buildings were already being restored, repaired or torn down to make way for replacements. The streets were being resurfaced and some low-cost housing was being built. If he believed the billboards, a few businesses were investing in the area as well.

The real problem, as was so often the case, was what would happen to the people who were currently using the dilapidated buildings as the only available roof over their heads. He’d spoken to several of them, and although Promises Kept focused on young people, it had become clear to him that there was a bigger problem across all age brackets. Not only in terms of physical needs not being met, but also regarding the entire attitude towards the homeless. Unfortunately—and in most cases, unfairly so—Texas wasn’t known for being open-minded about people who were ‘different’. Whether it was lifestyle or physical abilities that set people apart, they often didn’t have an easy time of it anywhere, but what he’d seen in Riverside was considerably worse than the national average. Worse even than in the rest of Texas.

Few things got him as upset as bigoted narrow-mindedness and he’d seen that in spades. Where facilities were available, there was a subtle, but obvious bias to providing for those who fit the image of a mainstream person in trouble. It was hair-raisingly stupid to even divide needy people into categories like that, but all the members of the ‘minority disadvantaged’ had confirmed it to him. Had anyone ever heard of something as ridiculous as a two-class minority system where some minorities were now suddenly better—more worthy of help than others? How stupid was the human race becoming?

Well, he was going to put a stop to this dumbing down if it killed him, at least here in Riverside. He grinned when he realised how much his attitude had changed in the last week. Not only was he no longer willing to run from people like Ray and his own memories, he was now ready to charge forwards in a very visible way.

When the doors to the meeting room finally opened, dispersing the previous meeting’s attendees into the big hall, he was ready. He got up and walked inside, taking a seat at the big round meeting table close to the window. Three official-looking types walked in right behind him and took seats across the table. Two of them he recognised from the city council website pictures, the third carried several files and deposited a large paper notebook in front of her. She then busied herself with distributing pens and making coffees, using the professional looking machine in the back corner behind the door. She was clearly an assistant of some kind and would probably know more about what was really going on than the two council members put together.

When everyone had more or less settled down with their drinks, introductions were quickly made. The older gentleman in a dark suit and sporting a bald spot turned out to be Mr. Basil Cabbert, the council member in overall charge of the inner city renewal project. The woman in the blindingly bright yellow pants suit was Christine Vance, a junior council member entrusted with the task of community liaison—which apparently included the businesses and other bidders that were hoping to invest. The woman in charge of the coffee was Mary Neal, and, as he’d suspected, she was the council assistant.

“Are we ready to start?” Mr. Cabbert looked around and frowned. “I was expecting the representatives of the architect, maybe even the developer to be here as well.”

“Ambrose & Quinley just called.” Mary brushed imaginary lint from her fluffy blouse. “They apologised about being a few minutes late due to traffic.”

“They really should have planned better.” Mr. Cabbert shook his head. “It’s not like Riverside even
has
that much traffic.”

Landon suppressed a grin. His rivals not making a good first impression might work to his advantage later on. He wasn’t proud of feeling this way, but he’d take all the help he could get to make this work.

Seconds later there was a commotion at the door, and in walked two extremely expensively dressed men. One was older and wore glasses; the other made Landon almost spit out the sip of coffee he had just taken.

What the hell was Kendall doing here?

Kendall was still trying to calm down as they walked into the austere city council meeting room. His stupid boss had insisted on finishing his second glass of wine after a lunch that had been far too sumptuous for his tastes. Yes, being awarded the bid for the new recreation centre in north Riverside was excellent news, but couldn’t they have waited with the celebration until after the city council meeting? It wasn’t as if the feeling of triumph and accomplishment would have been any less if they’d had a celebratory dinner instead.

But no—Mr. Allysdair Ambrose had insisted.

Now they were late, something Kendall hated with a vengeance. He took a quick look around the table to familiarise himself with the other attendees of the meeting, not expecting much to have changed in terms of the opposition they were facing. So far, everything had been smooth and all decisions had gone their way. His gaze wandered along the faces as he filed away the names of those present. Nothing new here.

Until he’d gone almost full circle and looked at the people sitting next to the windows. He froze in his tracks as the shock made his breath stop.

Fuck
!

“Landon?” His voice shook, his heartbeat sped up and he was even more mortified when he realised he’d spoken out loud.

Landon sneered.

“I beg your pardon?” Mr. Ambrose turned around and stared at him. “Is there a problem?”

“N-no problem, sir.” Kendall swallowed. Twice. What was the man of his dreams, the one whose rejection still hurt, doing back in Riverside? Wasn’t he supposed to be in Houston working on some charity project or other? Hiding his true nature by pretending to be straight? Counselling other people while fucking up his own life—and Kendall’s—by making stupid decisions?

Kendall could have kicked himself. Coming face to face with Landon again made him realise he was
still
hung up on the guy, even after more than seven years of painful separation. Well…painful for him. Landon didn’t look any worse for wear, except for maybe a few more wrinkles that he wore well.

Damn it. Stop this
!

“Well, let’s get going then.” Mr. Ambrose took a seat, ignoring the looks of annoyance from some of the council members.

 
The man didn’t even think it necessary to apologise for holding everyone up. Kendall sat down next to him, wondering how much longer he’d have to put up with this man being in charge of his career. He might be a junior partner now, but nothing much had changed in the way he was treated. The additional money, bigger office and half a personal assistant were all nice trappings, but he still didn’t have the creative control he craved, nor could he really pick his own projects and clients. Paradoxically, senior partner had never seemed farther away than since his promotion.

“This meeting will come to order.” Mr. Cabbert, the council member in charge of the inner city renewal project, banged his gavel and assumed his usual air of importance.

An expectant silence descended on the room.

“Please close the door, Mary. We don’t want to be disturbed…now that everyone is finally here.” Mr. Cabbert rifled through the file in front of him while the young woman next to him got up and closed the door, frowning the whole time.

Kendall suppressed a grin. Not that Mr. Ambrose would even notice the rebuke—it was much too subtle to reach the stubborn man—but there was some satisfaction in knowing that there were other people who valued punctuality.

After outlining the objectives of the project, each of the interested parties had a few minutes to explain their goals, how they saw themselves contributing, and make comments about the overall situation. There wasn’t anything new until Landon spoke up.

“My name is Landon Tully, and I am here to speak on behalf of Promises Kept. We’re a growing national charity that serves suffering children of the street, and aims to protect and safeguard all children. As you know, homelessness is a growing issue all over the country and hits people unmindful of social class, belief or race.” Landon looked at the somewhat stricken faces of the meeting participants. “We are about more than profiling ourselves or making an extra buck. We care about the vulnerable members of society, and few are more vulnerable than kids.”

There were a few nods around the table and Kendall was tempted to join them. How could Ambrose & Quinley’s client, a regional chain of supermarkets, possibly be more important than providing shelter for children and young people? From the corner of his eye he could see Mr. Ambrose’s scowl, probably because his boss saw their chances of landing their client a big plot, the last one going, dwindle in front of their eyes.

But really, wasn’t saving a few lives and improving others more important?

He’d found himself hanging on every word Landon uttered. Damn, but it was easy to fall under the man’s spell again. Not that Landon even noticed—he’d avoided looking in Kendall’s direction since the very first meeting of their eyes. It was almost as if he was embarrassed to look at Kendall.

“How do you intend to do this and what sort of a facility do you envisage?” At least Mr. Cabbert seemed honestly interested.

“Given a lot, we would build a shelter. In line with our mission, services will be offered to all youths who seek help, with a priority for those for whom no other service is available. We will make every effort to reunite kids with their families and will collaborate with community agencies and associates.” Landon smiled. “What we do in Houston, where I have worked in different capacities for the past seven years, includes walk-in services, a residential programme that includes shelter, clothing and educational support, health and HIV case management, counselling and pastoral care, and the teaching of life skills via a mentoring programme.”