“We’re all here to support you if you want to find out,” Amber said gently.
Lily looked over the park and cleared her throat. “How silly that I’m afraid I don’t know how to be alone.”
Amber reached over and grabbed Lily’s hand. “Listen, Ionlyknow how to be alone, so there has to be a comfortable middle ground somewhere. I’ll let you know if I find it.”They both laughed.
“Yeah, Allie found that with Davis. Too bad we can’t clone him. Sister wives? Would that be too weird?”
“Way too weird,” Amber said firmly. “And way too many kids.”
Chapter Eleven
“The Hope Galais on the twenty-seventh. You're giving the keynote speech there, and then there's the Historical Society lecture lunch series where you'll be introducing the history of the early settlers to western New York.”
Amber rested her chin on her hand and gazed out the window as the sound of Neal’s voice droned on. Monday morning meetings were such a snooze fest. She had started the day on the right foot, even getting to the office at eight on the dot for once. When Theo got in a while later, she had his schedule printed and ready for him, and had pulled the meeting notes he’d requested. She’d restrained herself and only left him one little Post-it note with a Twinkie on his desk.
Re: kale: in case of overdose, eat Twinkie immediately. Repeat as necessary.
She hadn’t heard any wrappers opening, but he also hadn’t yelled at her yet this morning. Things were going well.
She peeked out the window and saw a familiar tail disappear behind the planter in front of the bank again. She had walked to the village twice over the weekend to look for Puddin’, but the littledog was nowhere to be found. Amber left food and water just in case she came back. The poor dog must be hungry.
“You haven’t attended a Rotary Club meeting since the winter, Theo, and they're starting to complain. Are you taking notes?" Neal asked sharply.
Amber jumped and looked away from the window.“Yup, got it,” she said, taking another note.
Check calendar for more boring events.
She really was trying to pay attention, but Neal’s idea for community-building events seemed to be geared for the nursing home crowd. She recrossed her legs and idly admired the strap on her newest Poshmark find, black patent leather T-strap Mary Jane heels she’d paired with adorable black cigarette pants and a fitted white blouse from Yves Saint Laurent, the coveted 1966 Rive Gauche collection.
Years ago, she had been browsing all her favorite vintage boutiques when she stopped dead in her tracks outside the shop’s window. She had begged the owner to put it on layaway for her and had skimped and saved to buy it. Yet another instance of ramen and bananas coming in clutch, but every time she wore the blouse, she felt like a movie star. Totally worth it.
“There's a municipal bond investment seminar at the end of the month at the community center. You can present the benefits and potential returns of investing in that," Neal said. Theo nodded, adjusting his glasses while taking his own notes.
Straight and narrow Mayor Theo Clairmont was firmly back in place this morning. His perfectly pressed navy suit and light blue tie were a stark contrast to the hot and sweaty man she had locked eyes with on Saturday morning.
Or flashed on Friday.
Her cheeks heated thinking about that, and she quickly looked out the window again as Neal picked up steam. He seemed bent upon making Theo the most boring, pretentiousmayor in the world. No wonder Beckerman was rising in the polls. Anything other than a municipality meeting had to be a better way to connect with the community.
But what did she know? She was just there to take notes. She looked out the window for Puddin’ again.
“Are we boring you, Ms. Hart?” Theo asked with one eyebrow raised.
Ignore. Ignore it. Think about the bonus check, she said to herself, but the eyebrow did it, just like every time.
“Funny you brought up the word boring. I have some ideas," she said brightly. "I was looking at Beckerman’s events calendar for the summer, and he has much more family-friendly activities lined up. Maybe you could add some fun events to your calendar.”
Charlotte nodded encouragingly. “That’s a good point.” Amber smiled at her gratefully and Charlotte gave her a subtle wink.
Neal snorted. “Family-friendly activities? What is this, a carnival? We’re running a serious campaign here, not a circus.”
Theo sat back and crossed his arms. “Go on. I’m listening.”
Amber felt the same excitement building that she felt whenever a design came to her, and she flipped open her notebook to review her notes from the week before. “It’s about being visible in the community, showing people that you’re interested in the same things they are. You used to play baseball, right? What if you threw out the first pitch at a Northfield Little League game? It’s a great photo op, and?—”
Neal cut her off with a wave of his hand. “Why would he want to?” Neal asked sharply. "That's not where the money is.”
Amber looked him in the eye. "That's where the majority of the younger voters are, and they care about what's happening in thecommunity too.”
