The walk of shame downhill is humiliating. I’ve never thrown myself at a man like I did today with Travis, and I never got turned down so hard. Gosh, by the end I was practically begging for it.
To rub salt into the wound, as we make our way back among the volunteers, many heads bend closer—clearly to whisper speculations.
There’s no hiding the strange vibe between me and the mayor. Not to mention the way I must look. My usually impeccable, sleek bob is all tousled and messy. Think Bryce Dallas Howard at the beginning and then the end of Jurassic World.
If I have to be gossiped about as Emerald Creek’s newest scarlet woman, I wish I had at least earned my letters.
When we reach the main tent, I say, “I have to find Christian before the ticket draw.” Travis is still holding the trash bag. I take it from him, and add, “I’ll drop this off at the collection center.”
The mayor seems to have a mind to state again how sorry he is. To spare myself the indignity of a man having to apologize twice for not wanting to have sex with me, I take my leave with a dry, “See you around.”
I turn on my wedges and, after dropping the trash bag into the giant dumpster truck at the edge of the beach, I search for Christian. My best bet is to locate his security detail. As celebrities go, Christian isn’t overly fussy, but to mingle with a crowd as big as the one assembled today, I made bodyguards nonnegotiable.
America’s number one heartthrob finds me first.
“What happened to you?” Christian asks from behind me, pulling a lock of my hair. “You look like you’ve been through the dumpster.”
I spin on him. “Thanks, that sums up how I feel.” Dumped in the trash, I add silently in my head. “It’s this awful nature,” I spit, swatting a mosquito on my arm. “I’m not made for it. It’s time for the draw. Are you ready?”
“Tell me where I have to go sell myself for the good of the environment and I’ll be there.”
“Just follow me, Mr. Smarty Pants.”
I drag him to the small platform that will become the beach’s new gazebo, and we wait for Lana, who joins us shortly afterward.
“Do you have a hairband I can borrow?” I ask her.
“Sure.”
Lana hands me one, and I wrestle my hair in a high bun to make my earlier indiscretions a little less obvious.
Christian’s wife passes a hand over my upper arm. “Did you put sunscreen on? You’re getting pretty red.”
Oh, perfect. A sunburn would complement my bruised pride like dandelions with daydreams.
Oh shut up! Now I’m even talking like a doe-eyed, small-town girl with a giant crush on the mayor.
“I can lend you some of mine,” Lana insists.
I thank her and have just enough time to apply the lotion before we have to announce the winner.
* * *
By the end of the day, the shore is unrecognizable. Without all the trash and rubble, and after the landscaping team has finished their job, the lake has turned from dump to wonderland—a paradise of wavy sand dunes and deep blue-green water sparkling in the glow of the setting sun.
Unfortunately, the smell doesn’t match the view. Not yet, at least. Especially not from where I’m standing, close to the dumpster truck. With the last garbage bags loaded, I urge the driver to leave for the landfill.
To end the event, Lana, I, and the other members of the support staff have to re-collect all the grabbers and safety vests that one of Lana’s affiliate environmental organizations kindly provided for the day.
Then the temporary white tents have to come down, and, finally, we can leave the restored nature undisturbed for a night until the construction works resume tomorrow. I can already envision the pedestrian pier and the new boating docks on the water. And the kiosk, gazebo, picnic tables on land… this beach is going to become a major attraction in the area.
At least for as long as the mayor can keep it clean. But I have to commend Travis’s vision. This looks like an entirely different place after today.
I walk up to Jerry and Celia now, as they help pull down the last temporary gazebo.
“Celia, I’m heading back to the B&B, are you coming or…”
She looks up at Jerry and they exchange an almost imperceptible nod.
“Don’t worry, boss, Jerry will give me a ride later.”
Mmm, I suspect not. In the past few days, I’ve woken up to texts from Celia saying she was already on set and I needn’t wait for her. My assistant only comes back to sleep at the B&B when we have early appointments in town. And I’m not sure if it’s the day spent in the sun or all the fresh air, but she has a bright glow about her.
Yeah, a sneaky voice says in my head, ’cause she’s getting some—contrary to you. Or have you forgotten what it looks like to be all sexed up?
“All right,” I wave at them. “See you later.”
I bump into Willette next and blush with a mix of heat and embarrassment at the memory of kissing her son.
“Hey,” I say. “You need a ride back to the ranch?”
“No, honey, thanks, I came in my truck. I’ll mingle a little more with my friends and meet you back at the house.”
I say goodbye to Willette and, keeping my head low should another Hunt be in the vicinity, I speed-walk to my truck. Thankfully, it’s the first among a long line of vehicles lining the road to the lake. The sheriff’s department lifted all the parking restrictions for the day, making it easier for volunteers to reach the location.
Letting out a sigh of relief at not bumping into anyone else, I climb into the truck. I start the engine and pull onto the street without even needing to turn on the navigator. Only a fortnight in town, and I already know my way around Emerald Creek like I’ve lived here my entire life.
Yeah, because there are only three streets to know.
Back at the ranch, I feel weird being here alone. Well, if you don’t count the cows, chickens, goats, llamas, and Fluffy, who has officially joined Hildi in my furry fan club.
I sit on the porch steps and watch the sun set over the paddock where Betsy is grazing grass. My gaze travels the length of the picket fence and to the pretty wildflowers growing at its base in shades of lilac, yellow, and baby blue.
After a few minutes of contemplating, Fluffy joins me, sitting on the step beside me. Hildi is next. The goat hops up the steps and drops her muzzle in my lap.
I take my phone out of my bag and snap a selfie that I send to my friends in New York. I caption the picture:
To Taylor, To Holly
Holly’s reply comes in first.
From Holly
To Taylor, To Holly
Two seconds later, my screen lights up with an incoming group video call from Taylor.
I pick up. “Hey.”
Taylor winks at me. “I see you’re embracing the bucolic lifestyle.”
“Hi, gals.” Holly picks up next.
Taylor is calling from her tiny patio with the tall Manhattan skyscrapers in the background, while Holly is sitting on a bench in Central Park, wearing workout clothes. She probably took a break from jogging to answer the call. Both views make me so homesick my eyes sting with tears. I blink in quick succession to fight back the salty water.
“Why is your hair up?” Holly asks. “It’s never up.”
“Never is a strong statement.”
Holly’s eyes narrow. “I smell smoke. Again, why is your hair up?”
“It got tousled, and this was the only practical solution.”
“How did it get tousled?” Taylor asks.
I kept Travis out of our chats for as long as I could. I didn’t want to give the man more importance than he deserved, but after today… I sigh. “The mayor of this awful town tricked me into going for a swim with him in the most beautiful pond at the foot of a waterfall… then he kissed me… and then he informed me we should never do it again because he’s not into casual relationships.”
Holly mock-fans herself. “That sounds heated. Is the mayor a good kisser?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” I admit begrudgingly.
The best I ever had.
Taylor frowns. “Why is this the first we hear about this mayor? What’s the story?”
To my chagrin, I bring them up to speed on my two-week acquaintance with Travis Hunt. From his first appearance riding a horse, to the ensuing bare-chest show, the City Hall trap, the head bashing in the shower, and all the other times I bumped into him. The only thing I don’t confess are my quasi-sexy dreams about him.
Holly’s screen goes suddenly black.
“Did the line drop?” I ask.
“No, sorry.” Her voice crackles through the phone’s speakers. “I’m googling Emerald Creek mayor.”
“Yeah, don’t waste your time,” I say. “The town’s website has no picture.”
“The official page says the mayor is a Theodore Abraham Hunt,” Holly continues, unperturbed.
“Yep, that’s him, but everyone calls him Travis. Don’t ask me why.”
Next, Holly gasps.
“What?” Taylor and I ask at once.
“I found a picture of a Theodore Abraham Hunt, who used to work for Goldstein, Caldwell and McDougal. I’m forwarding it to you gals. Is that him?”
My phone pings with an incoming message and I switch apps. I jerk my knees up and down, waiting for the photo to load, which causes Hildi to raise her muzzle and bleat in protest.
“Shh.” I pat her on the head and she goes back to sleep.
The picture finally loads and for a second, it takes my breath away. It’s definitely a portrait of Travis, but younger and with a New Yorker feel about him. His blond-brown hair is swept back in a sleek haircut, he’s wearing a suit probably even more expensive than the ones I saw him wear around town, and he’s smiling at the camera, the image of an ambitious associate.
“Yep, that’s him all right.”
I go back to the video call and study my friends’ expressions.
Holly is chewing on her lower lip while Taylor has both eyebrows raised.
“So you’re basically dating Harvey Specter and forgot to mention it?”
“That’s the thing, we’re not dating. The man kissed me and then refused to put out.”
They both laugh.
“Not funny,” I say, dropping my elbow onto my knee and placing my chin in my hand.
Fluffy chooses this moment to bump his head against my cheek and try to crawl into my lap, pushing Hildi out.
“Aw, look at you, Snow White,” Taylor teases me. “Now you’re only missing a couple of birds perching on your shoulders.”
“With my luck, they’d take a dump on me.”
“Jokes aside,” Holly continues. “Do you like the guy?”
“No, I detest him. I’m just weirdly attracted to him physically. That’s why I wished we’d done it already so I could get it—him—out of my system.”
Before my friends can comment, a puff of dust from the road downhill warns me of Willette’s imminent return.
“Shoot, girls,” I say. “I have to go. Travis’s mom is coming home.”
“And you don’t wish to discuss all the naughty things you want to do to her son in front of her,” Taylor teases me.
“Shh,” I hiss. “She’s getting out of her truck. We’ll talk later.”
The last thing I hear as I lower my phone to end the call is Holly yelling, “Keep us posted on this mayor situation—” then I press the red button and the line goes silent.
“Hello, there.” Willette waves at me. “I see you’ve made friends. Hildi isn’t bothering you anymore?”
“No.” I pat the goat’s head. “We’ve reached an agreement.”
Hildi grunts.
“Good.” Willette gives a nod toward the goat. “She’s a fair judge of character.”
“I don’t know about that, but—” Hildi pushes her head against my hand. I rub the spot between her horns. “—she seems to have taken a liking to me.”
Willette’s lips twitch. “Perhaps she isn’t the only one. Did you like the waterfall visit with my son today?”
I blush tomato red. How does she know about the waterfall? Does she know Travis and I kissed? Did he tell her?
Her lips curve up into a knowing grin.
I don’t think Travis told.
I rub the back of my neck. “It was… interesting.”
“Potawatomi is the most gorgeous spot in town,” Willette says. “I’m glad Travis showed it to you.”
“Yes.” I shift my feet. “It was beautiful.”
“Also refreshing, I imagine.”
Heat spreads across my cheeks again. I seriously doubt Travis told his mother about our little swim or the kiss, but she seems to know, anyway. Is she a secret witch? She has the goats and the herb garden after all…
“The best view,” I deflect.
Willette smiles and takes the first step up the porch. “Well, I’m glad you and Travis are finally getting along, and I hope you won’t hold his fight for our town against him. You have no idea how much it meant to us folks to finally see our beach as clean and beautiful as it was today. We could’ve never done it on our own.”
“Well, I still don’t appreciate being strong-armed into things.”
“Aw, well, Travis can get a little naughty sometimes.” Willette winks at me, making me blush again. Then she pivots the subject altogether as if we hadn’t been covertly discussing my involvement with her only child—both personal and professional. “I’m getting dinner started. Care to join me?”
The last thing I want is to spend more time under Willette’s scrutiny. I clear my throat. “No thanks, I’ll just make myself a salad and eat in my room. I’m exhausted.”
Willette chuckles. “No wonder Hildi likes you so much. You follow the same diet.”
I shake off the animals, ignoring their protests, and stand up, wishing Willette a good night. Then, forgetting the salad altogether, I rush up the stairs and go hide in my room.
I’m in such a hurry for privacy, I almost close the door on Fluffy’s tail. The cat sends me a warning glare before paddling into my room with an offended pout.
“I didn’t say you could come with me.”
Fluffy ignores me and jumps onto the bed.
I collapse onto the mattress next to him, ego bruised and cheeks still heated—I’m not sure if the warmth comes from sheer embarrassment or solar burns. To be on the safe side, I douse my face and arms in after-sun lotion, hoping I haven’t damaged my skin too much today—or my heart, for that matter.