Chapter One
Emory Banks could not come up with one good reason why Donovan MacIntyre would be pushing open the door of her shop. It had been a particularly nice day so far. The weather was clear, the sun was shining, it was Friday, and she was actually making good time on the flower arrangements she was putting together for a fast-approaching weekend wedding.
“Hello, Mr. MacIntyre,” Emory said with forced cheer, injecting a subtle bit of emphasis on the “mister.” She’d already been out with him—twice. She could say without a doubt that the two of them weren’t compatible. Unfortunately, he didn’t quite see it that way.
“It’s good to see you again, Emory.” Donovan’s mouth eased into a grin that showed far too many unnaturally white teeth. “Please call me Donovan. ‘Mr. MacIntyre’ is so impersonal, and the two of us are far beyond that.”
She reached over and selected a fragrant stargazer lily, carefully sliding it into the vase on the counter before her. “What brings you in on a Friday night? I have a few arrangements in the cooler that would be a perfect way to greet a date.” Emory owned Blooming Buds, a small floral shop located on a corner lot of the quaint, cobbled downtown area. If she was lucky, that was what had brought Donovan in to see her.
A muscle jumped in his jaw as if he were fighting back irritation. She suppressed a laugh, pasting an innocent smile on her face and opening her big brown eyes just a little wider for maximum effect. MacIntyre had continued to hit on her months after she’d told him they were better off as acquaintances. So far she’d been unable to get her point across without being rude. Being rude was definitely a last resort. The guy had too much pull in the downtown business arena.
“Actually, I’m here on business.”
The smile faded from her face. This could actually be worse than his hitting on her. “Is that right?”
“You know I was elected to the board of aldermen six months ago.”
Of course she knew. That appointment inexplicably coincided with his decision to smother her with cheap pickup lines and empty compliments. “I think I’d heard that somewhere.”
He leaned against the counter, his expensive cologne overpowering the pleasant scent of the flowers in the vase and turning her stomach. Why men thought they needed to drown their polo shirts and designer khakis in cologne was beyond her. The sight of his gelled dark brown hair, perfectly trimmed beard, and leering expression was bad enough. Adding the unattractive physique and stench of cologne made her want to run the other way.
“As a member of our local chamber of commerce, I was hoping you’d do me a favor.”
If this was a new pickup line, she was going to drop the civilized facade and deck him.
“I’d like your signature on a petition.”
“A petition?”
“A few of the downtown business owners are trying to get enough signatures to shut down the Phoenix Rising.”
She racked her brain, trying to remember if she even knew where or what the Phoenix Rising was. The name was familiar, but she couldn’t place it.
“It’s a bar,” he supplied.
“Oh! My brother Chris has mentioned that place. I knew the name sounded familiar.” MacIntyre had succeeded in piquing her curiosity. “Why do you want to shut it down?”
“There are a lot of rumors about that place that don’t do the downtown area any favors.”
“Like what?”
He shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t look as though he’d expected her to ask for any information. He’d just wanted a signature. “For one thing, the owner is an ex-con.”
She carefully considered her response, reaching for some greenery. “If he’s done his time, I don’t see how that’s an issue.”
“There are other rumors.”
Why was he hedging? Emory had been merely curious before, but his evasive behavior was intriguing. There was obviously more to the story than he was telling her. A bar was a bar, right?
“Some of my other contacts have heard that there’s a lot of lewd conduct that goes on in there. From what we understand, it’s basically an anything-goes atmosphere.”
She was tired of the verbal fencing. “Are you talking about swinging?”
“More than that. I mean public displays of sex.”
Heat curled in her belly. She swallowed a lump in her throat and tried to control her heartbeat. Her breath was quickly becoming ragged with the effort of maintaining her calm mask. The rumors that had MacIntyre up in arms had the opposite effect on Emory. She was fascinated.
“So this is a couples’ bar?”
“Not from what I understand.”