“And . . . the outfit?” Chey asked. “Was that like, part of a dare?”
“Oh hush,” Vivi said, but the mischief in her eyes spoke the truth of it. “Okay,” she relented when faced with Chey’s patient gaze. “He might have made a few less than kind comments as to my, shall we say, flamboyant style. So I thought I might goad him a little by showing up for our ‘date’ in full stage regalia.” She laughed. “Honestly, I didn’t view it as a date so much as a comeuppance. He can be charming, but at core, he’s not a pleasant man.”
Chey smiled with her, but she was also worried for her friend. Vivi was smart, sharp, and had no problem holding her own, but she hadn’t been in the dating world for quite some time. Then something else Vivi had said popped back to mind. “Wait, did you say ‘after he dries out’?” Chey’s eyebrows narrowed. “I’m assuming you don’t mean he had too much champagne.”
When Vivi merely smoothed a nonexistent wisp of hair from her forehead, unapologetic mirth brimming in her expression, Chey found herself once again looking at Wyatt, as if for confirmation that she wasn’t wrong in assuming Vivi was saying what they both knew she was saying.
“Man overboard?” Wyatt prompted.
“In so many words,” Vivi said, then twirled her parasol, making Chey splutter a laugh after her mouth had dropped wide open.
“What did he do?” Chey wanted to know, worry creeping back in once the shock wore off. She frowned and closed the distance between them. “Are you okay? Did he—”
Vivi’s expression sobered some then as she waved off the question. “He . . . drew some inappropriate conclusions, regarding my former occupation on stage, and that’s all I’ll say. I’m perfectly fine.”
Chey nodded, accepting her friend’s discretion, but that didn’t stop her from worrying. “And so you, what, invited him to swim back to shore?” She tried to imagine Vivienne telling the wealthiest man in Blue Hollow Falls to take a dive, and him actually doing it. What on earth could he have said or done for that to be the only option? And one he’d taken, apparently. Then another thought occurred to her. “Wait, did you . . . you didn’t push him over, did you? Not that he wouldn’t have deserved it for . . . whatever it was he said or did, but—”
“Let’s just say money doesn’t buy class,” Vivi said. “I found him to be somewhat insulting. No, make that highly insulting. So, I asked him to return us to shore. He thought he could cajole his way back into my good graces.” She smiled evenly. “He discovered he was mistaken.”
“And . . . he just jumped overboard and swam back to shore because you politely asked him to?” Chey wouldn’t have pressed, but she decided she needed to know the particulars, because she doubted someone of Hammond’s stature in the community, not to mention his very deep pockets, was going to take an embarrassment such as this without some pushback, be it verbal or legal. Likely both. Chey wanted to have some idea what they might be up against.
“Actually, he might have had a bit of, shall we say, extra encouragement.” She closed her parasol, aimed it at the dock, and pushed a hidden button on the handle. A long, slender blade popped out of the other end.
Chey was so surprised by the maneuver, she took a quick step back and was saved from going off the dock entirely by Wyatt’s quick reflexes. He caught her by the elbow and propelled her forward. Right up close and into his personal space. Not intentionally, but intentions didn’t matter. Her body’s immediate reaction to said personal space did.
“Thanks,” she said, then eased away from him and turned to look at the umbrella more closely while she pulled herself back together.
“One of my favorite props, kept from Broadway days,” Vivi said, somewhat cheerfully, before zipping the blade right back into the umbrella tip. “I never thought I’d have reason to use the thing. Honestly, though, the joke was also on me. If I was hoping to make a bit of public spectacle, that backfired.” She gestured to their surroundings. “You need an actual public to make that happen. And he did make his point, which was that this beautiful park and lake have become a drain rather than a draw for the town. Even so, I’ve been trying to dissuade the town fathers from the path they want to take, the one Paul proposed. But as one of only three female chamber of commerce members, and the only one who has been attending recent meetings, I’ve realized that they’re a good old boys club with little respect for women entrepreneurs. Or women in general, I’d say.”
“Maybe you need to take your parasol there to the next council meeting,” Wyatt said.
“I’m tempted,” Vivi replied. “As it stands, Addie Pearl, Hattie Beauchamp, and I are the only female members. All women of a certain age who were raised to understand the importance of civic engagement. What I need is for more of the women who run their own businesses—young and old—which account for over half of the artisans at the mill, to show up to these things. Addie’s been trying, but honestly, I think she’s grown weary of being outnumbered and outmaneuvered and has turned her energies to trying to improve the town directly through growing the artisans’ guild and making a success of the mill. And she’s doing a great job. Hattie is there when she can be, but running that restaurant doesn’t always allow her to attend at the times Mayor Fielding schedules these things. We need to make our voices heard in greater numbers—all the business owners, men and women—so loudly that we’re taken more seriously by those old boys. As well we should since it is our endeavors that are the driving force behind the current revenue stream.”
“And aye, there’s the rub,” Chey said, as the big picture became clearer.
Vivi nodded. “The mill and the new music center have been an overwhelming success. The wedding venue Seth added to his winery, the cidery Mabry’s family is building to go along with his apple farm, and our farm, new as it is, are all doing well and bringing in much needed tourism revenue, but they aren’t drawing people to the other, older town amenities.”
“Meaning the services owned by most of those good old boys,” Chey said. “Like Tremaine’s tax and accounting, Larry Moyes’s dry cleaner. Winston’s jewelry store.”
“The bank, the mercantile, the hardware store,” Vivi added, nodding. “Yes, yes, and yes. And that’s definitely a big motivator for them in their decision-making process, though they claim, of course, that they are there to serve the needs of all the citizens of Blue Hollow Falls, not simply themselves.” She sighed. “But I look around out here and it’s hard to deny they have a point about the park being a liability rather than an asset. I know it’s not peak season, but according to the council, this place used to be a draw year-round, and they have the photos to prove it. The nature center is always a draw, but the mayor said they’ve had to close it for the past three winters. Used to be folks wanted the local photographers to come take pictures here for weddings, family Easter portraits this time of year when everything is in bloom.” She gestured with her hand. “You can see that is no longer the case. Not even a random hiker came through here today, and these are supposed to be world class trails. Some go all the way up to Hawk’s Nest Ridge, but the town has let maintaining them go by the wayside and they’re not properly marked any longer. There aren’t enough park rangers to make hiking in the back country between the lake and the ridge safe anyway, from what I hear.”