Chapter Five

The gentle heat of the April sun was a sedative to Justin’s coiled muscles as he strode beside Andi along Downtown, Planet Earth, where crews of painters added the artwork that would bring the gift and candy shops to life. His mind still reeled from talking with the “imagineers” who sat at a programming console in the coffeehouse where they had eaten lunch, computer-choreographing the floor show that the robots would perform on stage. They had already begun designs for his characters, who would do automated shows in some of the other coffeehouses across the park, and it was clear that they valued his input on the types of dances and gestures to keep the characters consistent with his cartoons. For the first time since he’d made the decision to accept Andi’s offer, Justin was certain he’d done the right thing.

“Most of the rides are finished,” Andi was saying as they came to a fork in the road that led to a number of visual magnets. “They would all be ready, except that I kept coming up with new ideas that I thought were essential. Yester-world was an afterthought,” she said with a laugh, waving a hand toward an area in the distance where he could see scaffolding surrounding unfinished structures, and crews busily working. “My board has come close to having me committed a few times, but generally I manage to convince them that my ideas are good ones.”

Wes narrowed his eyes. “If I know Andi,” he teased, “Promised Land won’t ever be finished. There’ll always be something new in the works.”

“We have the land for it,” Andi said with a shrug. “If we have the ideas, why not?”

“And the money?” Justin asked.

Andi lifted her chin and gave him a cool, direct smile. “We get by,” she said.

He offered the beginning traces of a smile. “I gather my cartoons were one of those ‘afterthoughts’?”

Andi nodded. “I felt something was missing. It took a little doing, but I finally convinced the board that without its own characters, Promised Land was no different from any other amusement park. And Dad’s dream was to make it a family event, the best park in the world. If he’d gotten it to this stage, he probably would have had the same idea.”

Justin propped a foot on a shaded bench and tilted his head as he smiled at Andi. “You never really said why you liked my characters,” he said in a quiet voice, his defenses down for the first time that day.

Andi sat down on the bench and glanced at Wes, who leaned against a tree. “Like I told you, I didn’t know they were yours,” Andi said. “You never drew kangaroos or trolls in college. I guess the pigs could have clued me in, but even they seemed different back then.” Her voice trailed off. “Anyway, I told the board to narrow it down to several choices. They gave me five cartoons, and Khaki’s Krewe was one of them. I chose it because it was the best.”

“I’m curious,” he said. “Would you have even considered Khaki’s Krewe if you’d known up front that it was mine?”

“I’m not sure,” she said honestly. “But that didn’t happen. I chose your cartoon before I ever saw the credits.”

He didn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted. Had he hoped she had thought of him first when she’d needed an animator? Had he expected her to have given him special favors because of their past? Would he even have wanted her to? For a moment, he struggled with those questions, then finally looked around and asked in a hollow voice, “Where d’you want to go next?”

Andi seemed relieved at his dismissal of the subject, and she pointed to the next ride.

Justin refused to let her all-business manner ruin his day, and as she and Wes escorted him through the park, he saw her slipping out of her ice casing from time to time as they walked beside waterless canals and steep roller coaster tracks.

Forgetting her inhibitions as she shared her world with him, Andi captured his complete attention as she expounded on the history of each ride—which had been her father’s brainchild, which had been her own. The attention to detail intrigued Justin—from the painted garbage cans in the shapes of miniature houses to the blinking and “breathing” wax figures of legendary Bible heroes in the Hall of Faith.

Even the more practical side of the park in the underground service and utility basement fascinated him. As the executive engineer explained the technical aspects of the park and the computer center that would keep things operational, Justin began to get more excited than he had ever been about the future he saw for himself and his characters.

After a while Wes excused himself to take care of some problems that had come up in the construction on one of the rides. Andi led Justin back into the sunshine, watching his face for the wonder and thought that had colored it during the tour. Seeing her visions reflected back in Justin’s eyes reminded her of all the plans they’d shared when they were in college. She wondered if he was reminded of the same thing.

Andi led him into the castle that served as the focal point of the park, up the winding staircase and into the bell tower, from which they had a 360-degree view of the park. “Impressed?” she asked with a perceptive smile as he made a slow turn and took in the majesty of his surroundings.

Justin leaned back against the rail facing her, unable to control his grin. “What do you think?”

Andi’s soft laughter played like a melody on the wind. “I think if you were, you’d never admit it.”

His grin grew broader. “That’s where you’re wrong. I admit it.” Turning his back to her, he leaned on his elbows and scanned the colorful landscape, letting the wind ruffle through his hair and clear his mind. “I always knew you’d do something big, Andi.”

Andi went to stand beside him. “I wasn’t going for size, Justin. I was going for impact.”

“Well, you’re making one. I’m kind of going for impact, myself. I wonder if our two impacts will clash, or just make a bigger impact.”

“If you don’t see the possibilities here, Justin, then you’re not dreaming as big as you used to.”

He chuckled. “Some dreams are more realistic than others, Andi.”

“Realistic dreams. Hmm. Isn’t that a contradiction?”

“Not for me. I’ve worked hard for everything I’ve ever gotten, Andi. Real hard.”

She met his eyes, and that old anger began to rise again. “It may come as a surprise to you, Justin, but so have I.”

“Sure, you have, Andi. But you had something to start with.”

“I had money, and you had talent. We were each very blessed. I hope you haven’t become a snob, Justin.”

“A snob? What is that supposed to mean?”

“You know the definition of ‘snob.’ I’m beginning to think that you have nothing but contempt for anyone with money. But I don’t make any apology for having it.”

“I’m not a snob.” Justin leaned on a column and gazed out across the panoramic view below him, his heart deflated by his own hand. How in the world would he get through this madness? When would he stop trying to get the last word? When would he quit looking for comebacks to everything she said?

“There’s Wes,” Andi said, her voice hoarse with dejection as she pointed to an electric car traveling toward the tower. “I guess we’d better get back.”

Justin followed her down the staircase, fighting his need to call a truce with her. The truth was, he doubted one would hold, anyway.

When Andi was at the wheel of the small, noiseless car and they were driving back toward the office building, Justin looked over at her, sensing the tension in her face as she squinted into the sun to see a crowd of workers forming near the Jacob’s Ladder ride. Looking ahead, Justin could see two men shouting at one another. The others were scattered, watching the scene. Andi bit the inside of her lip, and her eyes glowered with anger Justin recognized but did not understand. She stopped the car in front of the crowd, and without offering a word in explanation, jumped out and rushed through the men, who parted at her presence.

Justin glanced back at Wes. “What’s going on?”

Wes leaned casually back in his seat. “Just a few little kinks to work out. Andi can take care of it.”

He watched Andi face off with one of the men, hands on her hips. In any other situation, a construction crew would have been making catcalls at the long-haired beauty who marched so dominantly into their territory. The only evidence Justin could see of anything other than the greatest respect for her was an occasional nudge between two men or the private way one here or there shook his head in appreciation of her beauty.

Wes sat up and pointed toward one of the men. “That’s one of the parish building inspectors. Starts an uproar almost every time he comes in here. He’s convinced we’re going to substitute cardboard for lumber one of these days.”

“The parish building inspector?” Justin asked, shifting in his seat to see Wes better. “Didn’t I read that Promised Land was self-governing? I didn’t think it was under the parish’s jurisdiction.”

“We’re self-governing, all right, just like Disney World is. We’re set up just like our own town. Andi fought for that with everything she had, and finally the state legislature agreed. But the town officials like to think they still have their hands in. Andi gave them the gratuitous right to send inspectors in, hoping that when they saw that she was using higher standards than they did, they’d realize our structures were safe and would leave her alone. Unfortunately, they’re determined to find something wrong and report it to the press. They want to start a panic that will keep us from opening on time.”

Andi disappeared inside the building with the two arguing men, and the other workers relaxed their stances a bit, talking quietly among themselves. “Shouldn’t you be taking care of this?” Justin asked, uncomfortable at the thought of her alone with them.

Wes shrugged. “I’ve butted heads with them already this morning—if I get into it again it might come to blows. Besides, the builder for this part is right there. I coordinate all of the building overall, but I have to let each builder fight his own battles with the inspectors. Unless Andi wants to get involved, that is. She’s the president and CEO. Can’t get any higher than that.” He laughed. “Besides, I don’t like to be around when she’s on the rampage.”

A few more moments went by, and Justin felt his muscles thicken with tension. Nervously, he brushed his bottom lip with his finger. “What are they doing in there?”

“Probably pulling out nails to prove they used the right size or showing the idiot the paint to prove it doesn’t have a lead base—some such nonsense.”

“Andi has to keep up with all that?”

Wes gave a hoarse chuckle. “Andi keeps up with everything. She spends most of her time out here with these men. Even if one of our contractors wanted to slip in low-grade materials, they wouldn’t get past both of us. Andi doesn’t take chances, and she intends to settle the inspectors’ minds before she opens this park.”

Andi came back out of the building followed by the two men, who seemed calmer now. Her face was still tight and authoritative, and without another word, she got back into the car and started it.

“Everything all right?” Justin asked.

“Just fine,” she bit out. “Everything’s just great. Givens sent him in here to get a sample of one of the rafters. Said one of his reporters got a tip that it was green wood.”

B.W. Givens, Justin thought. The man who owned Shreveport’s newspaper and one of the television stations, and who had most of the town’s government in his pocket. The man who had made no secret that he planned to find a reason to keep the park from opening. The man whose propaganda had stirred the community into an uproar over the belief that Promised Land was certain to ruin the area. Stretching his arm across the back of her seat, Justin could almost feel the cold radiating from her.

As they parted on the twentieth floor so that Justin could confer with his attorney before the meeting began again, Andi was polite but distant. He watched thoughtfully as Wes followed her to her office, and suddenly he was filled with a deep, sinking feeling that he was no longer foremost in her mind. She had concerns and obligations that went far beyond whether or not the two of them still felt the old stirrings. The realization was disappointing, for it had somehow been rewarding to think that her primary concern, for a while, was him.

The shift in her interest left him cold and empty, for a memory plagued him, a memory of her eyes brightening at the mere sight of him, a memory of her every action having some relationship to him, a memory of love so strong that it had seemed ordained. But memories were no more than unattainable dreams, he reminded himself. And the yearnings that had been plaguing him since he’d first seen her a few days ago were just temporary results of surprise and fatigue. Somehow he would shake them.

He would not let her under his skin again.