“ButI’m thinking it’s my job as mayor to support local businesses, isn’t it?” He tilted his head and smiled beatifically. “Plus, Lorenna makes a damn good point about those fritters. I say the more the merrier! Let’s welcome Mitchell’s Fine Family Dining to the Extravaganza family!” He grabbed his own generous stack of coupons and lifted his chin in my direction. “You go ahead and add a spot for another food truck at the Extravaganza, then, Rafe.”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “Of course, Mr. Mayor.” I mock saluted. “Your wish, my command.”
On paper, I was the head of the Extravaganza Committee, but everyone at the table knew what that really meant. My dad loved delegating responsibility. Delegatingcontrol, though? Not so much. He hated being told “no” more than anything.
“Just so you’re aware, though, Mr. Mayor,” I continued, “we’re already eight trucks over the ‘absolutely unbreakable ten-truck limit’ you agreed to in the spring, and if the more gets any merrier, we’ll be parking trucks out in the Gulf.” I smiled serenely.
Dad scowled. Being called out for his utter lack of common sense was the thing he hatedsecondmost. Which was why I tried to do it as often as I could.
“Now.” I rapped my knuckles on the table. “Ms. Jonquil, Ms. Lorenna, how are we coming on decorations?” I asked, turning to the older ladies across from me with a polite smile like a dedicated committee head. “We’re just about a week out, so it’s time for us to make some final choices.”
This was one of many,manyExtravaganza-related situations where I could have gotten things done all by myself with no muss and no fuss, but apparently, a good committee head was required to do thingsby committee, which was why Dad had delegated arguably the most important event-planning job of all—the decorations—to a pair of octogenarians, at least one of whom couldn’t work the internet.
Jonquil Pepper darted a look at Lorenna and cleared her throat. “Well, we’re of two minds on the subject,” she began. “You might say our theming ideas… diverge slightly? We sure could use some decision-making help.”
One more week, I reminded myself, fighting against impatience. There was one full week until the Extravaganza, and then I promised myself that my life was going to change. My last official responsibility around here would be fulfilled, and I could… I could…
God, how pathetic was it that I had no clue what I wanted to do with my life? I’d spent thirty years taking care of my family, trying to make sure our tour boat business stayed afloat, attempting (mostly unsuccessfully) to rein my dad in. Now that we’d found the treasure, my brothers and my cousin Fenn were set financially. Since Beale and Fenn had boyfriends, and Gage was about to start his last year of college, and mydadwas engaged to his secretary, Gloria, I knew they were all happy, too. And it was finally time for me to think about me and what I wanted.
Which absolutely didnotmake me think of off-key singing rock star wannabes I used to have a crush on.
My troublemaking cousin, Fenn, nudged me with his elbow and leaned far enough into my space to whisper, “Since when is Littlejohn back on the dating market?”
Like I monitored the dating lives of all Whispering Keysters? “Shhh. I’m listening.”
But Fenn did not, in fact, shush. “Thought he was dating someone else we didn’t like. Veruca? Violet? Victoria?”
Fenn’s boyfriend, Mason, elbowed him lightly in the ribs from his other side. “Victoria’smyex-girlfriend,” he whisper-hissed.
Fenn shot him a teasing smile. “You sure?”
One side of Mason’s mouth quirked up. “It’s getting harder to remember, but yeah.”
They exchanged a look so full of love and amusement, I felt a little pang of something in my stomach. A little ache for something I’d almost had.
I ignored it.
“Pay attention,” I commanded under my breath. Jonquil had already finished speaking, and I hadn’t heard aword.
“LJ was datingVeronica,” my brother Beale whispered to Fenn over my head.
“Mmm, and you’resoright, we didn’t like her one bit,” Beale’s boyfriend, Toby, leaned around him to add. “We’re reserving judgment on Caroline, though.”
Toby had only been a permanent resident of the Key for a couple of weeks, but it felt like much longer, maybe because he already knew more island gossip than I’d ever known.
And I liked the man, I really did, because he made Beale incredibly, magnificently, believe-in-a-benevolent-Universe happy.
But also, it was incredibly difficult to be around him sometimes because every time I looked at him, I remembered the tabloid photos that had made him flee New York to hide out on Whispering Key a few weeks back—photos of him supposedly hooking up with a certain friendship-forsaking musician I’d once thought I was in love with.
And even though Toby had explained how the pictures of him and Ja—that person—had been staged, and I believed Toby one hundred percent when he said he’d been pushed intothat person’s lap and hadn’t actually been going down on anyone in the middle of a crowded club, the image had seared itself into my brain and made it difficult to keep certain people out of my mind where they couldn’t get to me.
I had a big, thick wall around my heart where Jay Rollins was concerned. But the fucker kept sneaking in somehow anyway.
“AndthenI’m thinkingrockets!” Lorenna exclaimed.
I shook my head, concerned I’d heard wrong… and even more concerned that I hadn’t. Rockets? Where were we getting rockets on short notice? What had I missed?
“Quiet,” I hissed at Toby and Beale. “Pay attention.” But then, because I didn’t want Toby to think I didn’t like him just because I tried to avoid looking at him, I added, “Please.”
