Phoenix Burning(18)
He glanced at the clock. It was just after twelve. He had plenty of time before the Saturday afternoon crowd started to wander in. Reaching behind his waist, he untied his apron and tossed it onto the nearest stack of liquor. At this point, was there really anything to lose?
* * *
“I’m really glad you decided to have lunch with me, Emory.” Donovan reached across the counter and took her hand. “It’s so nice to have fellow business owners in the downtown area that understand how important it is to maintain the hometown image we have here.”
She nodded because there was nothing else to do. It wasn’t as if the bonehead had asked her what she thought downtown ought to look like.
“Now that I’ve gotten the mayor on my side, things should really take off.”
“The mayor?” Something told her there was some shady business going on at city hall.
“The mayor and I go way back. He and I went to college together. He’s a very unusual guy.” MacIntyre’s oily smile made her skin crawl. “Mayor Strand is really in touch with his feminine side, if you know what I mean.”
“Really? I had no idea.”
He lifted her hand to his mouth for a kiss. “I’m nothing like that, Emory. I’m straight as an arrow.”
Emory fought back a stab of anger and glued her mouth shut. This was wrong. Being with him was wrong. Which was ironic since her father would have loved him. Her father had spent decades telling her that she’d never be good enough for the Donovans of the world, the men who wanted a woman who knew her place.
She searched for something to say that would diffuse his romantic intentions. “Actually, I was hoping we could talk about the petition.”
“The petition.”
“Do you have it with you?”
He released her hand, his expression settling into something she could label only as careful. “It’s in the car. Do you want me to get it?”
“Yes, please.”
His brief retreat gave her a few minutes to scrape her courage together. He reminded her so much of her father. A slick, suave exterior that drew you in, and a cold, controlling interior that made you want to run. She’d gone out with him because he’d asked her, because she was willing to try anything.
The first date had been mediocre at best. As usual, she’d been tongue tied and shy. He’d seemed to like her demure attitude, asking her out again almost immediately. It was on the second date where he’d started to show his true colors. He’d ordered her food, criticized her clothing, and pinned her to his side like a dog on a leash. She’d spent a good portion of the evening hiding in the restroom, trying not to hyperventilate as her anxiety reached uncontrollable heights.
Donovan reentered the shop and set the sheaf of papers on the counter beside her. “I’m hoping your eagerness to see the petition means you want to sign it.”
Two signatures caught her eye. Dacey Tolliver and Clement Latham? Why would a woman who owned a bookshop and the proprietor of an art gallery sign a petition like this?
“I’m glad to see you’ve come to your senses about the lewd conduct at the bar.” Donovan’s smile was as oily as his gelled hair.
“Is that the basis of your complaint against them?” She thought about the skintight uniforms he’d chosen for his wait staff. “You think they’re violating public indecency laws?”
“Of course!” His tone took on the Captain Downtown cadence that Fox claimed induced mega migraine headaches. “The kinds of riffraff that go to that place aren’t the kind of patrons I want in my establishment.”
“So the Phoenix isn’t a threat to you financially?” She could practically smell the bullshit. There was something else going on here.
“Public displays of sexual acts have no place in our city. The people who go there are crass and rowdy. They cause trouble and commit crimes. Law enforcement has been looking the other way for years now and it has to stop.” His face was turning red.
If law enforcement had looked the other way, Emory suspected it was because they either enjoyed hanging out there, or what actually went on inside was still at more of an urban myth status. Still, she knew there was more to MacIntyre’s problem than he would admit. “So the entire basis of your petition is public indecency?” She felt like Chris working a deposition.
“Yes!”
“What, exactly, constitutes public indecency? The current laws covering nudity exclude bars like the Phoenix from the list of public places as long as they have strict age restrictions and don’t have a menu large enough to qualify them as a restaurant. There’s no prostitution going on, it’s consensual, and I didn’t see anything that struck me as a violation of the law.” That was sort of stretching the truth, since fornicating in public most likely fell under the heading of “stuff the cops purposely didn’t see.” On the other hand, she wasn’t going to be the one to blow the whistle.