Page 54 of The Fine Art of Faking It
“The perfect combination.” Eden batted her eyelashes. It was unsettling.
“Don’t be messing around, girl,” Bobby warned Eden before leaving the table. Eden immediately dropped the flirtation.
“How much damage did the fire do to your place?” she asked.
“What?”
“Money. How much money will it take to fix everything?”
“A lot,” he hedged.
“$47,735?” Eden asked, leaning forward.
“How did you know that?” Davis had kept that number very quiet. Word traveled fast in this town, and he didn’t need someone reporting to either of his parents that the tiny bit of smoke damage was actually a full-blown gut job.
Eden looked over both shoulders and crooked her finger at him. Helpless, he leaned in closer.
“I think the Beautification Committee burned down your house to get us together.”
Something white hot and painful burned in his chest. Davis wasn’t one to dabble in anger. It didn’t serve much of a purpose to him. There was something to be said about going with the flow. But right now, he wanted to go set every one of the committee members’ houses on fire. He suddenly got, first-hand, exactly how Eden must have felt all those years ago.
“What makes you say that?” he asked, red creeping in on the edges of his vision.
“Someone out of the blue decides to stink bomb your house, right? Who would do that? Teenagers in Blue Moon are too busy learning how to organize protests and brew organic temporary hair dyes. Someone wanted your house to be unlivable so you would have to come stay with me.”
“So, theyburned it down?” Davis gritted his teeth. It made an odd kind of sense. Mischief in Blue Moon was limited to streaking and unpermitted bake sales. Not property damage and arson.
Eden held up a slim hand. “Hear me out. I went to a committee meeting tonight to dissent the match. They had $47,735 written on the board at the front of the room with a list of fundraisers under it. Why would they feel like they owed you that money unless they were the reason there was a fire in the first place?”
Davis took a slow deep breath, wishing he could regain his peace, wishing she’d just kiss him again and make him forget everything else. But it was gone, lost to the bubbling lava in his gut. “They could have hurt someone. They could have burned down the entire winery, my family’s legacy.”
“Yes. They could have,” Eden said, with a slow, dangerous smile. “And we’re going to get them back.”
“No offense, but your last attempt at revenge almost landed you in jail,” Davis reminded her.
“There is nothing illegal about what I’m proposing. Even better, it’s just diabolical enough to make those yahoos think long and hard about ever meddling in anyone else’s life.”
“I’m in. I don’t care what it is. They could have ruined everything I’ve worked for,” Davis said, his voice a low rasp of rage.
“I’m so glad to hear you say that, Gates. Because you and I are about to fall madly in love.”
* * *
“Walkme through this again and tell me how much more satisfying this will be than turning them over to the police,” Davis said, slipping another slice of pizza off the tray. It was a good plan, but for once in his life, Davis wasn’t sure if it was mean enough.
“First of all, do you really want to try to have the sheriff’s and mayor’s wives arrested?”
“They burned down my kitchen!”
Eden laid a hand over his and he realized he was shouting. “What would having half the town arrested do to you, to your business, to your standing in the community?”
“They burned down my kitchen,” he said again at a much lower volume.
“Honestly, it was probably just a stink bombing gone wrong.”
“Still.”
“Still,” she agreed. “What does the Beautification Committee prize above all else?” Eden asked sipping her iced tea.
