Page 17 of The Christmas Blueprint

“The Applegate Mill is a huge project,” Killian said. “It’s important to get it right for the town’s economic growth. Having a chance to acquire a building of that size and location through a donation is a windfall and can position the town to develop a new ten-year master growth plan. The plan requires strategy, vision, and a long view. Many hands make light work.”

Look at him. Full of homilies now that he was back home. His mom used to say that when it was time to clean up the garden for early spring planting or clean the house every Sunday after church.

Jeffrey was not impressed. “I don’t want a lot of hands and a lot of opinions mucking it up.”

Ah. He should have instantly guessed. Bane had likely been trying to buy the mill and surrounding property for years. He’d been rebuffed or had been waiting for it to go up on auction so he could get it like he snapped up everything else—rock-bottom prices due to financial distress or personal tragedies.

A suspicion lodged in his brain. Did Jeffrey or his family have a hand in some of the financial distresses over the years?

Easy enough to poke around.

And why was he trying to turn into a one-man Hardy Boys mystery?

“Zhang Shi is considering making a sizable donation to the city of Bear Creek,” he deliberately needled Jeffrey Bane with the name of the Bay Area tech tycoon who had not only swooped up the Tully property ten years ago when Bane’s father had been trying to wait them out but had turned around and privately paid cash to purchase the mill from the young heirs who had no idea what to do with the dilapidated complex.

“We want to ensure that the city planning commission creates a blueprint for the mill’s former storage facility that will work with what Shi has planned for his development so that the city is awarded the property. It’s quite a coup,” he said as if Jeffrey had had something to do with the donation. Killian was confident the mayor had done nothing useful.

“He’ll have to get his plans through me.” Jeffrey slashed his hand through the air and then picked up his tea and smirked before taking a sip.

“You mean me and the planning commission and city council,” Killian corrected.

Jeffrey nearly choked on his tea.

“Same thing,” he recovered. “And I invited you here to remind you of that, Flanagan. You may go.”

Dismissed. Lord to serf. Killian unfolded his nearly six-foot-four frame and used his height to his advantage as he stood before Jeffrey’s desk. Sophia and Riley would have had a laugh over his power move.

Jeffrey realized his mistake. He scrambled to his feet, his teacup overturning and sloshing toward his computer. Killian, reflexes honed from years as a football, basketball, and track athlete, snagged up the computer before it could get doused. He reflexively glanced at the screen and saw a rendering of the storage facility, but before he could get a good look at it, Jeffrey snatched it back.

Interesting.

The building was large, but definitely not a glass and steel high-rise.

“See you in January, Flanagan,” Jeffrey said coolly. “I’m afraid that since the position is part-time and temporary and Bear Creek is on the decline, there isn’t a private office available at city hall for you.” He’d left that little bomb for the end.

“No worries,” Killian said easily, inspiration striking along with a dose of snark. “I’m setting up my office on-site at the old mill for inspiration and to better coordinate with Zhang and his team. I am, after all, a city planner and commercial architect. I excel out in the field.”

He smiled and walked out of the office, leaving Jeffrey bug-eyed and full-on mouth breathing. He did manage to not mime a mic drop with sound effects—barely.

“Same as always,” he murmured to himself as he took the wide staircase instead of the elevator to the first floor.

He just hoped his former and very inappropriate crush on Sophia didn’t burble up from the depths of his soul and active libido. She’d been off limits in high school because she was too young. Then she’d been off limits because he was trying to build a life and career far from Bear Creek. But he’d always thought about her—compared other women to her. And now they were going to be colleagues—that was all, and he knew he was going to have to keep reminding himself of that fact.

*

Sophia burst intoher store, a few minutes late, two pumpkin spice lattes—last of the season from the Caffeinated Goat before they switched to their winter holiday-themed coffees—in hand.

Riley, whom she’d given a key to the shop in case of emergencies, was already there, hanging up two of her newly created vineyard-themed lights, and she had a long strip of LED lights looped around her neck.

“Pumpkin spice?” Riley asked, fearlessly on the second to the top rung of the ladder. “Great minds think alike.”

“Did Killian tell you about our run-in?”

“Run-in? That sounds dramatic.” Riley grinned and finished attaching the strip of LED lighting to the crown molding in Sophia’s shop. Riley had been pushing her to purchase the strips for her store because she could program the colors to add a seasonal flare.

“He did seem keyed up when I talked to him last night, but Kills and my brothers and cousins were always Flanagans—this roving, sweaty pack of wild oozing testosterone who didn’t talk to me.”

Sophia made a face.

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