I waffled in the hallway.
Men get dressed faster than women. If he isn’t out here waiting for me, then he probably already left.Part of me felt bereft.After that kiss? He just left?
The rational part of me was vindicated.I told you he was a giant piece of—
“There she is!” Karen said. Her expression was the bare minimum to be called a smile, but Hunter’s smile was warm and genuine as he gazed at me. He automatically reached out for my bag of wet clothes.
“Going back to the festival?” he asked me while Karen turned green with jealousy on the other side of him.
“Yeah, I need a drink,” I said, grinning up at him.
“Ernest’s stall is selling wine,” he said. “I’m not sure how good it is, though. He said he’s branching out.”
“I might need something stronger,” I remarked as Hunter held the door open for me.
“Hunter, you have to come talk to some of the small business owners. Don’t forget this is a big campaigning opportunity,” Karen begged.
But Hunter had eyes only for me, and the teenage girl inside of me who had always wanted the attention of the popular boys in school was ecstatic.
“I guess I’ll see you later,” I told him, setting an arm around his waist and reaching up to press a kiss on his mouth.
Fireworks.
Karen exploding in jealousy.
Maybe giving Hunter another shot wouldn’t be so bad after all.
40
Hunter
Meg was so close to being mine. I just needed to reel her in completely.
“Are you sure it’s a good idea to be trying to start something with Meg?” Weston asked at the campaign meeting next Monday.
“He needs to butter her up,” Greg retorted. “She needs to approve this housing development.”
“Yeah, but when I’m mayor, I’ll rubber-stamp it,” I reminded him.
Blade and Weston looked at each other.
“The race is a lot closer than we thought…” Weston began.
“But the exit polls from primary night showed me winning the election,” I said in confusion.
“Ida has been running negative campaign ads against you,” Karen said.
“So complain to Facebook and YouTube that we want to kill the ads,” I said. “That it’s slander.”
“This is a small-town mayoral race,” Blade said. “She’s not using the internet. She has them all over the radio station. She’s got phone trees going. She has little mailing leaflets that look like strip club ads that say ‘Give Hunter the title of sexiest man in Harrogate, not the title of mayor!’”
I picked up one of the leaflets Blade handed me. “Where did she even find this picture? Did she Photoshop it?”
“Is that not you?” Greg asked.
I peered at it. “It’s so blurry, I couldn’t say.”
“You sure it wasn’t taken secretly by one of the bimbos you were sleeping with over the past few months?” Garrett asked.
