His Winter Rose

Inside, Jason introduced the town’s councillors, and waited till she was seated. Only then did he take his place at the table and pick up her résumé. It was good. Too good.

“Your credentials speak very well for you, Ms. Langley.”

“Thank you.”

He hadn’t been paying her a compliment, simply telling the truth. She was overqualified for a little town like Serenity Bay, a place in Ontario’s northern cottage country.

“I don’t think we have any questions about your skills or your ability to achieve results.” He glanced at the other board members for confirmation and realized all eyes were focused on the small, delicate woman seated at the end of the table.

Piper Langley had done nothing and yet they all seemed captivated by her. Himself included.

Careful! his brain warned.

“I’m happy to answer anything you wish to ask, Mr. Franklin.” She picked an invisible bit of lint from her skirt, folded her hands in her lap and waited. When no one spoke, she chuckled, breaking the silence. “I’m sure you didn’t ask me here just to look at me.”

So she knew she drew attention. Was that good or bad?

“No, we didn’t.” He closed the folder filled with her accomplishments, set it aside. “It’s obvious you have what we’re looking for, but I can’t help wondering–why do you want to leave Calgary? Especially now, after you’ve worked so hard to build your reputation, finally achieved the success you’ve earned? Why leave all that to work in Serenity Bay?”

She didn’t move a muscle. Her smile didn’t flicker. But something changed. If he had to put a name to it, Jason would have said Piper-the-rose grew prickly thorns.

“Several reasons, actually. As you noted, I’ve been working in the corporate world for some time now. I’m interested in a change.”

That he understood. He’d come here to seek his own change.

“I was intrigued when I heard about your plans for Serenity Bay. The town has always been a tourist spot for summer vacationers.”

“Lately the year-round population has been in decline,” he admitted.

“Yes.” Her gaze narrowed a fraction. “If I understood your ad correctly, you’re hoping to change that.” She glanced around the table, meeting every interested stare. “I’d like very much to be a part of that progress.”

Nice, but not really an answer to his question.

Why here? Why now?

Jason leaned back in his chair and began to dig for what he really wanted to know.

“How do you view this town, Ms. Langley?”

“Please call me Piper.” She, too, leaned back, but her stare never wavered from his. “I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, but to me Serenity Bay looks like a tired old lady much in need of a makeover. The assets are certainly here, but they’re covered by years of wear and tear. I’d like to see her restored to a vibrant woman embracing life with open arms. I have some ideas as to how we might go about that.”

Piper elaborated with confidence. Clearly she’d done her research, weighed every option and planned an all-out assault on the problems besieging the Bay. But she didn’t stop there. She offered a plethora of possibilities Jason hadn’t even considered. Two minutes into her speech she had the board eating out of her perfectly manicured hand. None of the other candidates had been so generous in sharing their ideas.

Jason was left to find a hole in her carefully prepared responses.

“You’re used to large budgets, Ms. Langley. You won’t have that here.”

Her brown eyes sparked, her perfectly tinted lips pinched together as she leaned forward. So Miss Perfect had a temper. He found that oddly reassuring.

“Money isn’t always the answer, Mr. Franklin.” Her fingers splayed across the shiny tabletop, her voice deepened into a firmness that emphasized the sense of power that red suit radiated. “Yes, it will take some cash to initiate change. It will also require hard work, forward thinking, a vision that reaches beyond the usual means to something new, untried. There will be failures, but there will also be successes.”

“I agree.”

She stared at him hard, her focus unrelenting, searching. Then she nodded, just once.

“It will also take commitment. By you, your board, the community. No town gains a reputation for great tourism through one person’s actions. It takes everyone committing to a common goal and pushing toward it—no matter what. It takes teamwork.”

Jason hoped his face remained an expressionless mask, but his heart beat a hundred miles an hour. Of everything she’d said, that one word had made up his mind.

Teamwork.

It was what he’d been cheated of before.

It was the one thing he’d demand from the town’s newest employee.

“Unless anyone has another question, or you have something more to say, Ms. Langley, I believe we’re finished. Thank you for making the trip.” He rose, surprised to see more than an hour had passed. “We will notify you of our decision by next week.”

“It’s been my pleasure.” She worked her way around the table, shaking hands, flashing that movie-star smile. “Regardless of whom you chose as your new economic development officer, I wish you much success in your endeavor. I look forward to coming back in the summer to see the changes you’ve wrought.”

Jason ushered her out of the room, back into the reception area.

“Thank you again,” he said, holding out his hand toward her. “You’ve obviously put a lot of thought into how you’d do the job, Ms. Langley. We appreciate your interest.”

“It’s Piper,” she murmured, shaking his hand. “And the pleasure was all mine. It’s been good to see the town again.” She picked up a long, white cashmere coat and before he could help she’d wrapped it around herself, fastened the two pearl buttons in front.

A winter rose.

He got stuck on that thought, gazing at her ivory face rising out of the petal-soft cashmere.

“Mr. Franklin.”

“It’s Jason,” he told her automatically.

“Very well, Jason.” She inclined her head, flicked the sheath of sable-toned hair over one shoulder, shook his hand in finality. “Thank you for the opportunity. Goodbye.” Then she turned toward the door.

Jason kept watch as she strode to her car, a grey importrental. He waited until she’d climbed inside, until the quiet motor glided away from the town office.

She was wrong about one thing.

It wasn’t goodbye. He knew that for sure.

Chapter One

“A toast to each of us for thirty great years.”

Piper pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head, protection not only against the March sun’s watery rays, but against the reflected glare of those highest peaks surrounding the bay where traces of winter snow still clung to the crags and dips.

She held her steaming mug of tea aloft, waiting to clink it against those of her two friends in a tradition they’d kept alive since ninth grade.