donuts. “Just
coffee.”
“I was sorry to hear about your father, Ms.
Dalcour.”
“Thanks.” Rae took off her sunglasses. “So
what is this proposition you mentioned the other day?” She got
right to the point.
“Well your father’s land along Bayou Latte is
a prime location for development.” Simon sat next to her, rather
than behind his desk.
“Don’t believe it,” Rae said shortly. She
drank from the cup.
Simon raised an eyebrow. “Care to expand on
that?”
“Listen, I know what happened on Bayou Verret
and Grande River when they jumped on the development bandwagon. A
bunch of fancy houses went up, right on the water, and so did the
pollution levels.” Rae stared at him as though daring Simon to
contradict the facts.
“Yes, but–”
“The natural beauty is history. Now, what you
mostly hear is the sound of jet skis and speedboats – especially in
the summer, when the new money folks from Baton Rouge and New
Orleans visit their summer homes.”
“Well the economy–”
“Sure, the tax base expanded. So did
sales-tax collections. But do we really need it? Belle Rose is
making a solid comeback with tourism, for one thing.” Rae raised a
finger.
“We–”
“Not to mention being a popular sports
destination. We’ve already got enough fishing and hunting camps,
which fill up almost all year round.”
“Can I say something, please,” Simon burst
out in a fit of exasperation. First, Nola, and now this one…
“Sure.” Rae appeared to suggest that he could
have spoken at any time. “Go ahead.” The corners of her mouth
twitched as she drank from her cup.
“I agree with you about Bayou Verret and
Grande River. The local aldermen didn’t do a very good job of
planning. And you’re right; we are doing very well in town, what
with the tourist excursions. We even have an annual antique
festival every May that is steadily growing.” Simon took her empty
cup and refilled it without asking. He sat down again.
“Okay, so tell me what you’re talking
about.”
“More tourist development really – a sort of
modified beach front,” said Simon, holding up a hand to forestall
another objection, “but with full-time monitoring. Almost like a
national park.”
“You mean a ranger wearing a cute little
hat?” Rae wore a teasing expression.
Simon smiled. “Sort of.” He got up and pulled
out a set of plans. “Look here. This is where it’s proposed. Part
of this is land that I own. My father sold it to me.”
“I see.” Rae looked at the map showing Bayou
Latte. A large area was outlined in blue. “And this..?”
“Part of it might be used for industrial
development.”
“Now wait a minute–”
“Nothing heavy. Pantheon Corporation might
locate one of their divisions on that spot – a plant making
underwear. Cottonwear is the brand, I think.”
Rae grinned at him. “Oh yeah, I own some of
those.”
Simon gazed at her figure. A mental picture
of her full hips, covered only by soft cotton panties, winked on
before he knew what was happening. Warmth crept through him. He
blinked in embarrassment when he realized she was looking at him
looking at her. Simon averted his eyes fast.
“Y-yes, well, it means at least seventy
construction jobs and sixty or so permanent jobs,” he managed to
stammer out.
“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Rae said. “I
mean, we’ve gotta have drawers and bras, right?”
Simon resisted an urge to look at her again.
“Uh, right. Anyway, this would be the beach area here. We’d build a
visitors’ guide center with restrooms. The state might even hire a
part-time employee to give out tourist brochures about the
area.”
“You’ve done your homework, Mr. St. Cyr.” Rae
leaned closer to get a better view of the plans.
Her scent, light and floral, floated towards
him. “Er, I knew you’d have questions.” Simon pointed to another
spot close to where her family home was located. “Of course you’ll
want to keep a few acres
coffee.”
“I was sorry to hear about your father, Ms.
Dalcour.”
“Thanks.” Rae took off her sunglasses. “So
what is this proposition you mentioned the other day?” She got
right to the point.
“Well your father’s land along Bayou Latte is
a prime location for development.” Simon sat next to her, rather
than behind his desk.
“Don’t believe it,” Rae said shortly. She
drank from the cup.
Simon raised an eyebrow. “Care to expand on
that?”
“Listen, I know what happened on Bayou Verret
and Grande River when they jumped on the development bandwagon. A
bunch of fancy houses went up, right on the water, and so did the
pollution levels.” Rae stared at him as though daring Simon to
contradict the facts.
“Yes, but–”
“The natural beauty is history. Now, what you
mostly hear is the sound of jet skis and speedboats – especially in
the summer, when the new money folks from Baton Rouge and New
Orleans visit their summer homes.”
“Well the economy–”
“Sure, the tax base expanded. So did
sales-tax collections. But do we really need it? Belle Rose is
making a solid comeback with tourism, for one thing.” Rae raised a
finger.
“We–”
“Not to mention being a popular sports
destination. We’ve already got enough fishing and hunting camps,
which fill up almost all year round.”
“Can I say something, please,” Simon burst
out in a fit of exasperation. First, Nola, and now this one…
“Sure.” Rae appeared to suggest that he could
have spoken at any time. “Go ahead.” The corners of her mouth
twitched as she drank from her cup.
“I agree with you about Bayou Verret and
Grande River. The local aldermen didn’t do a very good job of
planning. And you’re right; we are doing very well in town, what
with the tourist excursions. We even have an annual antique
festival every May that is steadily growing.” Simon took her empty
cup and refilled it without asking. He sat down again.
“Okay, so tell me what you’re talking
about.”
“More tourist development really – a sort of
modified beach front,” said Simon, holding up a hand to forestall
another objection, “but with full-time monitoring. Almost like a
national park.”
“You mean a ranger wearing a cute little
hat?” Rae wore a teasing expression.
Simon smiled. “Sort of.” He got up and pulled
out a set of plans. “Look here. This is where it’s proposed. Part
of this is land that I own. My father sold it to me.”
“I see.” Rae looked at the map showing Bayou
Latte. A large area was outlined in blue. “And this..?”
“Part of it might be used for industrial
development.”
“Now wait a minute–”
“Nothing heavy. Pantheon Corporation might
locate one of their divisions on that spot – a plant making
underwear. Cottonwear is the brand, I think.”
Rae grinned at him. “Oh yeah, I own some of
those.”
Simon gazed at her figure. A mental picture
of her full hips, covered only by soft cotton panties, winked on
before he knew what was happening. Warmth crept through him. He
blinked in embarrassment when he realized she was looking at him
looking at her. Simon averted his eyes fast.
“Y-yes, well, it means at least seventy
construction jobs and sixty or so permanent jobs,” he managed to
stammer out.
“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Rae said. “I
mean, we’ve gotta have drawers and bras, right?”
Simon resisted an urge to look at her again.
“Uh, right. Anyway, this would be the beach area here. We’d build a
visitors’ guide center with restrooms. The state might even hire a
part-time employee to give out tourist brochures about the
area.”
“You’ve done your homework, Mr. St. Cyr.” Rae
leaned closer to get a better view of the plans.
Her scent, light and floral, floated towards
him. “Er, I knew you’d have questions.” Simon pointed to another
spot close to where her family home was located. “Of course you’ll
want to keep a few acres
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