Amid the cheering for the winners, I grab my purse and coat, desperate to escape before anyone else decides to push myembarrassment button. But as I edge toward the door, Mayor Barbie intercepts me.
“Winnie! Quite a show in here tonight.” Her smile is wide as usual.
My cheeks heat. “It was a misunderstanding. I was curious about the answer since everyone was stumped. I didn’t mean to?—”
“Oh, I’m not too concerned about the trivia.” She glances back at the table where Patton still sits, frowning.
I feel like hollering,Your face is going to freeze like that. But I’m an adult and wouldn’t dare do such a childish thing. Still, my brother believes it’s true and I’m not about to be the guinea pig.
Mayor Barbie says, “You two certainly have a spark. Chemistry like that is rare.”
“Him? Me? Chemistry?” I echo like I just kissed a toad. “We can barely stand each other.”
“Mmm.” Her smile sharpens. “If you say so. Oh, and by the way, I’ll have the Fireman’s Ball planning assignments on your desk by Monday. Have a lovely night!”
She breezes past, leaving me standing in the doorway, completely confused. I glance back into the restaurant. Patton is looking in my direction, but his eyes are unreadable in the neon glow of theOpensign.
I push through the door into the freezing January night. The cold bites at my cheeks, but it’s nothing compared to the heat of humiliation still burning in my chest.
Behind me, through the window, I catch one more glimpse of Patton. He’s on his feet, shrugging into his coat. Our eyes meet for half a second before I look away. My heart does something stupid and fluttery.
Chemistry? Spark? Ha! The only thing combustible between us is mutual annoyance.
3
PATTON
I shouldn’t careabout certain comments made about how I’m not being a team player in the trivia night game context. I’m perfectly fine alone. Because it’s true. Always have been, always will be.
Falling in love is for people who don’t know better—people who haven’t watched it destroy someone from the inside out. People who didn’t spend their childhood watching their mother try to hold herself together after their father didn’t come home from a call.
My hands tighten on the steering wheel as I navigate the winding road down from the Carson Spur. The Sierra Nevada range stretches out around me—snow-capped peaks and dense evergreen forests. It’s the kind of landscape that should feel like home.
How can I feel so lost in a place I’ve lived all my life?
Not literally lost, I could probably drive these roads blindfolded, but—a long sigh escapes.
The late afternoon sun filters through the trees. It’s a clear winter day, so why do I feel so foggy, so … soggy? That’s a better word for it. Like the bottom layer of my plate of nachos from Huck’s. The ones I refused to share with Vincenza because … I’m stubborn?
I’ve been told that before.
I shake off the thoughts and focus on my surroundings. I’ve been up here since dawn, checking fire roads, clearing brush, and inspecting access points. It’s standard winter patrol work that keeps me from being stuck behind my desk. Away from the new municipal complex with its glass walls and forced cheerfulness. Away from people who want to chat about the weather or ask how my weekend was.
And most notably … away from Vincenza Sorrentino.
I grip the wheel harder.
Tuesday night was a disaster. I knew the moment Austin mentioned Tacos & Trivia that it was a setup. Mindy has been trying to get his attention, and apparently, I was collateral damage in her campaign.
What I didn’t expect washer.
The Parks & Rec director, with her bright smile and her insistence on waving at me every morning, even though I’ve refused to participate in “Lady Salutes-A-Lot of Friendlyville’s” quest to get me to wave back.
We’re not friends. We’re barely colleagues.
Our offices face each other across the hall, which means I have a front row seat to her relentless optimism five days a week.
It must be exhausting to be her, with the way she tries so hard to be liked by everyone. The way she practically vibrates with eagerness whenever someone needs help. The sticky notes all over her office are distracting. They’re probably a fire hazard. I should look into that.
