Page 55 of Rio
A roar of disapproval erupts.
“These aren’t rumors.They are facts.”Another elderly man stands up.
“That’s all I said I wanted.I will check it out and I will make it right,” Rio says smoothly.The crowd murmurs quietly.People are nodding.They seem to like him.They’re being duped by what they think is his honesty.His charm.
Maybe I was, too, last night.
I should know better.I know the Knights, these people don’t.
Rio mutters something about handing it over to the foreman for questions about marine safety or environmental compliance.The man sitting beside him gets up.He looks awkward and clears his throat, looking at the audience in trepidation.Then he starts talking about responsible development and coastal monitoring.Sounds to me like he learned that little spiel off by heart.
“What about the reef?It’s already turning white.My son can’t even fish where we used to,” someone from the audience shouts out.
He stammers, says something about “future impact assessments” but disapproval flows around the crowd like a wave.
Then Tomas gets up.I like him.I feel he’s more trustworthy than the others, even if he works for the other side.He looks calm, and assured.
“I’ve lived here all my life.I was born here, raised here, and I will die here.I know this land.I know the ocean.Growing up I’ve seen the changes.Yes, the reef is hurting.Yes, the mangroves are thinner.We’d be lying if we said otherwise.”
This catches everyone’s attention.The crowd sit taller, necks craned, eyes on Tomas.The mood in the room shifts.Everyone waits for him to continue.
“But screaming at each other won’t fix this.Neither will ignoring it.We need accountability, and not just empty promises.I’ve seen the site plans.I’ve worked with the engineers.I know exactly what’s being built, and what’s already been lost.”His scans the crowd, his voice turning lower, graver.“But the project isn’t yet finished.There’s still time to make it better—”
“It opens in a month!”someone shouts.
“It does, and there is still some time to fix things, to make improvements.I don’t have the power to make promises, but I’ll keep pushing from the inside, because I live here, too, and it matters to me, to my children, and to my grandchildren, and it does for most of you here.”
The last line skims like a stone on water.It hits hard, causing ripples of a promise fan outward.It seems to quieten the crowd.He’s good.He’s better than the foreman.
More questions follow, about the opening, and expected tourist numbers, about jobs for the locals and expected revenue.My thoughts turn inward, flitting between last night, and the distraction, and temptation that Rio Knight is, and the job at hand.
As soon as the meeting ends, I rush outside to get some air.The humidity hits me like a wall and I’m halfway down the steps when I hear footsteps behind me.
“Raquel.”
I stop and turn, even though a warning in my head tells me not to.Rio catches up, his tone low and controlled.
“You could’ve come to me first.”
“What?Why?This was a community hall, you called the meeting.I turned up and asked questions.”
“Like this?”He looks at me in disbelief.“You put me on the spot back there.”He’s standing on the same step as me, so close that I feel the heat rolling off him in waves.Doesn’t help that every last detail from last night floods back in vibrant technicolor.
“I asked questions.I’m here for a reason.”My attempt to make this professional, instead of personal only results in pissing him off.
“It satisfied you, making me look small?”
I make to move, but he grabs my wrist.Heat engulfs me as his fingers wrap around my skin, gently, though.His thumb sweeps across my pulse point, eliciting a wave of something warm and fluttering inside me.Something which could easily turn weightier, heated.Something that could lead to …
I blink, needing to snap out of it.He knows my weakness.He knows how to play me and manipulate me.I won’t allow it.I can’t afford to mess up.I can’t let down my guard, something I seem to do each time this man is near me.I try to calm my reaction.Try to calm my breathing, before wrenching my hand away.
“I didn’t make you look small.Maybe it was your conscience, assuming you have one.”
He looks flummoxed.“Jekyll and Hyde,” he murmurs, like he’s trying to reconcile two versions of me.
I feel the same.“I could say that about you.”We blow hot and cold.Too much.Too often.Like we’re both afraid to let go.Let loose.Be vulnerable in front of each other.
He pinches the bridge of his nose.“Why didn’t you come up to me and ask me these questions in person, especially after last night?”
