When Carson's mother had called that night, to tell him that his father loved the lemon cake, his mind went directly to Abigail.

He’d spent some time on the internet when he couldn’t work because she was on his mind. The website for her tea store was as quaint as the store itself.

Abigail Weston, he’d learned from the bio, the name rang in his ears like a song, he thought. She didn't seem to like him much. That much he caught. But the big question was why? He hadn't said anything horrible to her. He hadn't tried to tear down her building. In fact, he hadn't even heard of her little business until Mrs. Winters had wanted to go there. Why was it he hadn't heard of her little business, he wondered as he set up his coffee pot for the next morning’s brewing. Carson always knew when new restaurants or gift shops were opening in his town. Golden wasn't small. But he had his hand in everything.

Carson set the coffee pot to brew tomorrow morning at 5 AM, that was usually when he returned home from the gym. Of course, now, he wondered if Abigail had coffee or tea in the mornings when she woke up. He let out a long breath. Why was he even bothering?

Oh, she was cordial enough. And he knew that his mother and Mrs. Winters were well-liked by Abigail, that much he could tell. But there was something about the way she looked at him. It didn't give him a good vibe.

Carson Stone wasn't somebody who didn't get what he wanted. No, he thought as he walked to the bedroom, since his living room was currently under construction, and turned on his TV. Carson Stone always got what he wanted, and right now he wanted to know more about Abigail Weston. The woman intrigued him. Her business sense intrigued him—even her choice in footwear.

He smiled to himself as he turned on the news. Sometimes getting to know people became a game. It was how he got to be invested in their businesses, their city, and eventually buy their land. Well, when he thought of it that way, it did make him sound like a horrible man, and that wasn't who he was.

Carson enjoyed seeing new things grow. Just like he enjoyed Mrs. Winters’ rose garden. Tearing down the old, and building it with new. It was an adventure. How come everybody didn't see it that way?

Thinking about that, only made him realize that next week he'd have another one of those community meetings where everybody came to yell at him. Sure, like his mother said, perhaps if that many people were against you, you should rethink your actions. But honestly, the buildings were falling down. When the homeless moved into them, it would be dreadful. And not because they were homeless, but because somebody was going to get hurt. After all, how many old buildings had he and his brother gone through when they were younger? Maybe it was that one day in that decrepit old mansion that people thought was haunted, when he fell through the floor, that made him want to take down old buildings. He would never forget, he sat there with his leg dangling down from the second floor into the dining room because the floor had given out when he jumped from one beam to another. Had the other beam given out, he might have died. He and his brother kept that secret. Oh, wouldn't their mother have been angry? If she were a violent woman, he thought, she might've spanked them until they couldn’t have sat down. But as it was, Patricia Stone never lifted a finger against her children.

His mother might not always agree with his career preference, but she supported him one hundred percent, and so did his father. It wasn't so much that they didn't agree with the career itself, but like many others, didn't agree with the methods.

There was no way around it he thought as he pressed the button on the remote control. If he didn't argue to take down the old buildings, they would still be up. No progress would be made in the city. No new businesses would come to the area. And again, another old building would be left there to rot, and somebody would get hurt.

But in the middle of a community meeting, perhaps he lost his temper a few too many times. He tried not to, but it was hard. People were there to attack him, attack his character. Often they came out yelling first, so it wasn't his fault.

Carson closed his eyes for a minute and listened to the infomercial that played on the TV. Then, as if something had zipped into his brain, he sat straight up.

The day he had met Abigail in her store when he had taken Mrs. Winters for tea, he had thought, only briefly, that he had seen Abigail somewhere before. As he had been sitting there wallowing in what was to come with that community meeting, he realized that was where he had seen Abigail Weston. Yes, she had been there when they announced plans to tear down the church on Ford Street and build a new outdoor shopping center.

Now that he thought about it, her cousin Clare had been with her. He hadn’t remembered Abigail speaking, but Clare had. They hadn't caused a scene or anything. Perhaps they didn't get a chance. There were others who had a greater opinion on his new project.

Well, it did explain a lot. No wonder she looked at him with such distaste. She, like everyone else, thought he was the bad guy.

What would it take to make her change her mind?

One thing about Carson Stone, he was charming when he wanted to be. Hadn’t Mrs. Winters told him that at least a million times?

Carson turned off the TV. Tomorrow, he thought, he would go to The Tea Shop while that sewing group was there. He would get more information, for his mother, he would tell them. But in all honesty, he wanted just a few more minutes to be around Abigail.

He smiled to himself as he pulled off his shirt and threw it into the hamper. He did enjoy a good challenge.