Her father moved on to shake hands of the patrons sitting closer to them and then limped toward Prudence to give her his usual sideways hug.
“I thought you patronized the Rooster, Father.”
Pru was very proud of how steady she sounded. Because nothing about her was steady at the moment. She didn’t think she could ever be steady again. Not with Rhiannon lifting her fingers to her face, tracing her own lip, tapping it, then biting it, slowly, as if Pru’s essence had been there and she was now savoring it. This woman would be the death of her. But oh, what a way to go!
“Mr. Mayor, what can I get you?” Seren’s voice, devoid of all intonation, broke her reverie, and she was grateful for it. Seren’s wink, however, set her on edge once again, since her “steadiness” was clearly a figment of her own imagination and either the Crowhart sisters were all menaces and mind-readers,or Pru was exceptionally bad at obfuscation. She thought it was probably a lot of both.
“Oh, maybe an Americano? I’m not much for the fancy stuff, but I heard Prudence was here, so I took a chance to see my girl. And shake some hands. This campaign is heating up on me.”
“You have a challenger, Father?”
He laughed, the smooth laughter that enhanced his already handsome face, showing off the charming crow’s feet and the laugh lines. It struck her sometimes how good-looking he was, and how she had taken so much of his face and yet looked nothing like him. How the same features arranged themselves differently on her.
They shared the same eyes, but hers were gray and his were pale blue. They were both fair headed, but where he was honeyed, she was a towhead. Close, but not quite the same.
“Not really, Prudence. You know Judge Astor, he always stages an attempt. It’s all a big joke for him, every single time. And then the country club president, but John is a friend, so it would all be in good fun. Every time, they try to wind me up and burn money just so they can tease me at the poker night.”
“I heard the new owner of the Viridescent is a viable candidate.”
Rhiannon’s words had the effect of a pin being pulled out of a grenade. Everyone collectively held their breaths.
“You heard wrong, Ms. Crowhart.” Her father’s tone was neutral, and final.
Rhiannon threw that fake smile his way. “Oh, I’m sure you’d know best, Mr. Fowler, being the mayor with your hand on the pulse of this race.” He answered with a smirk of his own, the people around them returning to their conversations, only for Rhiannon to finally toss the grenade.
“However, when I stopped by the town hall this morning for my operating permits, I saw her sign the paperwork at the Electoral Commission’s Office.”
Well, that was quite a scoop. Rhiannon went back to her latte as if she didn’t just drop the biggest news this town had witnessed since, well, since the Viridescent Cliff had been leased to developers.
And this particular developer was in a class of her own when it came to being mysterious. Pru knew that she was in her forties and had been in the hospitality business for decades, scoring the most impressive contracts on the East Coast. Pru didn’t even know her name.
“That woman is running for mayor?” Jedidiah Fowler was rarely surprised, Pru could count those instances on the fingers of one hand and still have fingers left. But he sure was surprised now.
“Paloma Allende,” Rhiannon supplied helpfully. “I had the pleasure of introducing myself. She is throwing a reception at the Viridescent for the town’s business owners next week. You’re invited, Prudence. I assume since you’re her direct opponent, you, Mr. Mayor, are not.”
Her father’s face showed nothing at all, a practiced politician’s smile replacing the earlier shock, but Pru knew she’d be getting an earful about all of this. And soon.
Seren was asking something of Rhiannon, and the other patrons were gathering around them with questions of their own, or maybe because it gave them the excuse to speak to the elusive Crowhart sister. Pru exchanged a look with her father, who patted her shoulder.
“It’s okay, my girl. I’m sure Ms. Allende will have a nice little campaign and use it to introduce herself to the townspeople. It’s an effective tool.”
Pru nodded and bussed his cheek. Surprised as he had been, he didn’t look worried. But he did look tired. Her heart squeezed in her chest.
As he shook a few more hands and excused himself, Pru finally turned back to Rhiannon, who was enjoying what appeared to be her second latte, Seren’s coffee art talent on display in the form of a cat in her glass mug. A smirking cat. Who looked like she ate the canary. Pru lifted her gaze to Rhiannon only to see a matching expression.
“You enjoy antagonizing people?” she asked.
Rhiannon’s smirk grew wider.
“Just men.” Then she leaned closer, and her breath brushed Pru’s ear, sending shivers down her spine. “But I was enjoying our previous conversation a lot more.” Then she straightened and took a single sip of the coffee before setting it aside, along with a twenty-dollar bill. “Unfortunately, there are people to see and places to conquer. Alas, I shall have to take a rain check. Will you allow me?”
Why did Pru think that Rhiannon used that particular sequence of words in that particular tone on purpose? Because, darn it, Pru felt it in her very bones. All the scenarios where she would or would not allow Rhiannon things flooded her mind…
“Yeah… Yes!” She stumbled over her own breath and refused to meet Seren’s eye when Rhiannon exited the coffee shop.
“Prudence Fowler…and my sister. Not just any sister, mind you. It had to be Rhiannon. The Windburn,” Seren said as she watched Rhiannon walk away. “And here everyone thought you lived a quiet, boring life.”
“Why Windburn, Seren?”
