Silver Mayor: The Silver Foxes of Blue Ridge

by L. B. Dunbar

  As I pack my things, I ignore his attempts to speak with me. I have nothing to say. As I mentioned to him earlier, I don’t understand why he hired me. I thought I was here to market the town through their recreational appeal and improve that interest, but I see I’m wrong. The same old programs will remain, catering only to the locals, and that’s that.

  Unfortunately, I can’t brush off the fact I actually have a job after ten years without work, plus Vega wants to stay in Blue Ridge, and then there’s my mother.

  I’m upset Zander disappears every night. He let it slip he hangs at Ridged Edge, a biker bar on the outskirts of town. It isn’t hard-core, just not as nice as Blue Ridge Microbrewery & Pub from what I’ve heard, but I’m about to learn for myself. Dismissing polite invitations for a drink at the Pub, I head to the other bar to commiserate with my brother.

  “Janessa,” my brother slurs upon seeing me, and I take a seat next to him on a stool. “How was the meeting?”

  I hang my bag over the edge of my chair and turn for Zander. “Charlie shot it down.”

  A snort sounds two seats over from mine, and I turn to find a silver-haired male nursing something dark in a low glass. I turn back to my brother.

  “He rejected the project. Said the town doesn’t have the money, but he did it more for personal reasons.”

  Zander glances over at me. “Personal?”

  My lips roll together as I realize my brother doesn’t know about Charlie and me. He might have his suspicions, but I haven’t mentioned anything outright.

  “Would this be because you’re banging the mayor?”

  “Shh,” I hiss. “Keep your voice down.” I turn my head left to right and notice the man sitting two seats away stills as if he heard what Zander said. His glass pauses in midair. His lips open for a sip of his drink that isn’t getting there. I spin back to my brother.

  “It isn’t like that.” I don’t know what it’s like. We did have sex. A lot. We opened up to one another. A little. We clearly are not more, and tonight proved it.

  “Not my business,” Zander says, lifting his own drink for his lips, and I call out to a man behind the bar.

  “Can I get what he’s having?” Another silver-haired man glares back at me. A bandana graces his head, and the thick scruff on his jaw gives him a menacing look, but I stare back at him. Maybe this place isn’t the safest to get a drink. After a second, the bartender moves, slaps a glass before me, and pours whiskey into it. Then he sets the entire bottle on the bar before us.

  “Anything else, princess?” It’s demeaning as though I’ve offended him by asking him to do his job and pour me a drink.

  “Nope, I’m all set.” I smile, giving him my practiced fake grin.

  “Actually, she needs a million dollars for a sidewalk,” Zander interjects.

  “It’s not a sidewalk,” I snap, turning on my brother.

  “No concern of mine, seeing as this town’s done nothing for me,” the bartender states, spreading his hands against the edge of the bar and leaning in as though he’s staying for the conversation.

  “Yeah, well, I’m the new girl and can’t say it’s done much for me either.”

  “Except give you a home, a job, and Charlie,” Zander mutters, swallowing the last of his drink and helping himself to the bottle on the bar.

  “Got something against good ole Charlie?” the man asks, and Zander snorts. If my brother dare says my body was against the mayor’s, I’ll slap him right in front of these witnesses.

  “Besides the fact he has no respect for my ideas, I guess not,” I say.

  The man to my side snorts again, and I turn on him. “You got something against good ole Charlie?” I ask as he’s clearly listening to this conversation.

  “Nothing against him.” He tips back his drink before adding, “But he has no sense with women.”

  My mouth falls open. He was listening, and now he’s implying Charlie’s bad taste runs with me. His head swivels, and he faces me.

  “Not implying you, though, darlin’. Just mean Goody Two-shoes Charlie has his head up his ass when it comes to women. He doesn’t know how to pick the good ones when he sees them.” His eyes roam my seated body.

  “Who says I’m good?” I tease, and a slow grin crooks his lips.

  “That’s Charlie’s problem. He needs a little bad.”

  “And you know this about Charlie because…?” My suggestive tone lingers.

  “He’s my kid brother.”

  My brows shoot upward, and I stare. There’s no way this leather vest-clad man with a white tee and jeans is related to the fitted suit civil servant of Charlie Harrington.

  “Name’s Ranger.” He eyes the man behind the bar. “Not surprised you haven’t heard of me.” He softly chuckles, and I stare back at him. All the Harringtons have eyes like Charlie. It confirms they are brothers, but this man has sad blue eyes, and he looks nothing like the clean-cut of his younger sibling.

  “We didn’t exactly share personal stories.” It’s true and pathetic to admit. I don’t know much about Charlie’s family as a whole. Ranger was not mentioned.

  “Share other things?” His eyes skim down my body again, and I’d shiver if I didn’t think he was merely assessing me, not hitting on me.

  “That’s none of your business,” I say, which seems an admission that I have shared other things with Charlie. Otherwise, I should have just said no.

  “Charlie ain’t my concern anyway.” He stands from his seat and raps his knuckles on the edge of the bar. “Put their drinks on my tab.”

  “You don’t have a damn tab,” the bartender huffs, shaking his head. Ranger stalks off toward the pool tables, and another man comes behind the bar, quickly walking up to the man serving drinks.

  “Sorry, boss. Thanks for that.” He tips his head toward something, but I don’t look.

  “You’re not the bartender?” I ask, slightly embarrassed at the way I assumed he was.

  “Nope. I’m Justice, and I own this place.” If I expected him to hold out a hand and shake mine as a means of introduction, I’m mistaken. Somehow, I feel as if I’ve made a terrible error but survived it anyway.

  “Sorry about your sidewalk, pretty lady.” He presses back from the bar as the other man removes the bottle from the wooden top.

  “It was going to be a nice walk.” I sigh. “With a community center and a train park. I even found someone I thought the town might dedicate the place to, making it meaningful, but they don’t want to hear it.”

  Justice’s brows pinch. “Who you gonna name it after?”

  “A boy named Michael Harrington. I heard he was a town favorite.”

  Justice stills behind the bar. In fact, it feels like the entire place stops moving. Voices lower. Pool balls don’t roll. Even the music seems to quiet.

  “Michael, you say?” Justice stares back at me. His menacing look softens just a bit. “Would have been a nice memorial to the kid.”

  “Would have been,” I state. If only Charlie hadn’t disapproved of it.

  + + +

  Two days later, Cora Conrad comes to the mayor’s office requesting to see me, and I’m surprised by the impromptu visit. Perhaps this is more of her wanting us to be new friends.

  “Let’s head to the diner for lunch,” she suggests, and I cringe, knowing it’s the place where my father collapsed.

  Cora doesn’t miss a beat, clearly knowing my history. “We no longer cower to the things we fear, remember?”

  Somehow, I think that’s what Cora says about herself, but I like the suggestion. I need to face what I fear. I was afraid to be alone, afraid to leave Richard, but I did it. I crossed the country and accepted my station, sleeping in a twin bed across from my child.

  With Cora’s advice, I decide to follow her to the diner. I could use the break from the stifling silence within the office.

  “I heard about your plan,” she says as we walk down Main Street, the municipal portion of town divided from the business district by
First Avenue. “It sounds like a good one.”

  I don’t recall Cora being at the town council meeting, but it’s a small town, and I suppose news travels fast of the new woman who wants a walkway and the rejection of her idea.

  “I also heard Charlie vetoed it.”

  Even though I should defend him as my boss and explain the reasons given regarding finances and allocations of funds to various divisions within the town budget, I don’t. I’m taking it all personally when maybe I shouldn’t. Didn’t Charlie turn it personal when he said he wasn’t going to let people think I slept with him for this project?

  “Yeah. He did,” I say with an exhale.

  “You know, there’s another way to get things done.”

  Turning to Cora, I’m not certain what she means. “You could form your own community committee to support the cause. Raise the funds yourself, and then you only need the town council to approve the plan, not the financial aspect.”

  “I don’t think I sold many on converting a church into a community center.”

  “Oh, pish. Let the old fogies not go there then.” Cora waves her hand and pauses before the diner. “I’m just suggesting there’s another way, and I’m willing to help you.”

  I stare at this woman who wants to be my friend. Her hair is blond and done to perfection. Her makeup flawless. Her dress designer. She’s the epitome of a Southern belle in modern times, and I don’t know why she’d want to be my friend.

  “I’m not good at accepting help, so I’m going to decline your offer, but thank you, Cora. I appreciate you willing to stick your neck out for me.”

  “Do you have another solution?”

  I shrug. “Quit, I guess. Let the town have its way, and I’ll just sit in my office typing up schedules of events like rock painting and flower potting.”

  Cora chuckles. “You don’t seem like a quitter to me.”

  “I’m not, not really, but I’ll figure it out.” Did I quit my marriage? I tell myself often enough it wasn’t me but Richard who ruined everything. “I suppose there might be another way to get the money.”

  It isn’t as if my job is contingent on the walkway; it’s just that I wanted to make a difference somewhere, and with Charlie’s rejection comes my determination to prove myself. Maybe I’ll dedicate the city walk to my father. He loved gardening and landscape. He’d love a park for children and a church as a place to gather people.

  With the suggestion of finding another way, the Thursday night baseball game invitation comes to mind. Would it be that difficult to pretend with Richard? Hadn’t I done it for years?

  “Really? Do tell,” Cora says, keeping us outside the diner.

  “I can’t yet, but when I do, you’ll be the first to know.”

  This somehow appeases her, as I sense she thrives on knowing things first. After accepting my answer with a nod, she opens the door to the diner where we have lunch and become new friends.

  25

  Passions and Petitions

  [Charlie]

  I’ve made a terrible mistake. I’ve let my personal emotions get in the way of professional decisions, and I panicked. I didn’t think the council had even the slightest hint that Janessa and I had been together, but when Scarlett Nugent suggested she saw Janessa under my arm exiting the back of the Pub, I froze.

  You seem rather close with Ms. Cruz. I wasn’t aware you were friends.

  Her father worked for me, I reminded her. He died, remember? It had only been a week ago, and so many people turned out for Henri’s funeral, she couldn’t possibly forget even if she is older.

  Yes, Scarlett said, still holding her gaze on me, but I looked away, leading us to other concerns of the council before the fateful moment Janessa overheard me with Wyatt.

  And I didn’t defend her.

  I wasn’t totally in the wrong. The town doesn’t have a million dollars lying around for a special interest project. However, I could have supported the idea, encouraged others to be on board, and suggested ways to obtain the funds, but I didn’t. I let it falter because I didn’t want others to see my connection to this woman. If she wanted to plant dead trees along the median, I’d give it to her. I’d do anything for her, but I couldn’t let people see that about me.

  I’d already had to prove my dedication to the town over a woman when my wife was caught having her affair, and people doubted my ability. Reason suggests the two should be unrelated, but small-town people are funny like that, equating personal relationships to the community as a whole. If I couldn’t keep my wife in line, how did I expect to run a town? The old generation said those things. Damn righteous without examining the skeletons in their own closets.

  Then there was the leaked image of me in that bathing suit.

  Mayor McSteamy.

  Again, I had to prove myself over a freaking photograph.

  It’s one reason I’ve held back from taking up Ford Bernard’s pressure to run for Congress. I’ve already proven myself to this town. I don’t need to prove anything else.

  Except you do, don’t you, Charlie?

  I need to prove to the woman I’ve been involved with that it’s more than sex for me. I’m falling for her, and I don’t want to lose her over a city park and an old church.

  Bracing my elbow on my desk, I prop my forehead on my hand and inhale in frustration. I miss her like crazy.

  A soft knock comes on my door, and for the millionth time, I hope she’s come to me, that she’ll let me explain, only it’s not her feminine voice I hear following the opening of the door.

  “Charlie, can I speak with you a moment?” Charity sheepishly looks around the wood barrier. We’ve had a strained relationship since her attempt at seduction on the day of Janessa’s father’s collapse.

  “Sure,” I say. Sitting back in my chair, I point at the seat opposite my desk.

  “I just wanted to apologize.” Does she mean when she asked me to make her the woman at my side, or maybe she means when I heard her and Janessa going off about me the other day? “I shouldn’t have suggested that we…” Her eyes lower, and she wrings her fingers together. She’s nervous, and I don’t blame her. I’m embarrassed for her, but she’s been a good friend and office companion, so I don’t want to lose her.

  “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you, but we’ve had a professional relationship for so long. I don’t understand where any of that came from,” I say.

  Her father must have put her up to it because it seems so out of character for her. Yet as she stares back at me, wide-eyed and confused, I feel as if I’ve misread something.

  “Charlie, you must know how I feel about you, and with Janessa present, I just didn’t—”

  Sitting straighter in my seat, I lean forward over my desk, which pauses her speech. “What about Janessa?”

  “I didn’t know you were open to office romance.”

  I stare at her. I blink. I stare again. “What?”

  “You’ve always been so upstanding, and I thought it was a sense of propriety being a single father and all, but when Janessa arrived, you changed. I didn’t realize you were open to people who work together to seeing one another. You must know how I feel. We’d make a great team, Charlie. We’ve been a great team.” Her voice lowers as her head lifts higher. “I could make you happy.”

  I can’t believe this is happening. My assistant isn’t apologizing as much as coming on to me again.

  “Charity, what makes you think you and I would make a good team?” I’m not trying to hurt her feelings, but she must know I’m not attracted to her.

  “We have history. We’re both from here and grew up together. We know one another.” For some reason, I don’t think she knows me as well as she thinks, and in her buttoned-up blouse, perhaps I’ve misjudged her, but I’m not about to throw her over my desk and discover if she can take it like Janessa.

  There’s no comparison.

  Janessa is it for me.

  “As I value our friendship and our long-standing history, as you ju
st mentioned, I’d personally like to forget this conversation.” I hold her gaze before she looks away. “I don’t know what you think is happening between Ms. Cruz and myself, but—”

  “You’re sleeping with her.” Charity’s head snaps back to face me. “I heard you arguing the other day. She slept with you.”

  This is exactly the thing I didn’t want people thinking—Janessa slept with me—without accepting that I slept with her in return. It takes two, and I realize that; however, I don’t know how to respond to my assistant.

  “I don’t see how what I do with my personal life affects you.”

  “I care about you, Charlie,” she emphasizes, standing to step up to the desk. “I care about this town, and your future, our future.”

  “There is no future for us.” My meaning is clear. There will not be a Charlie and Charity.

  “Are you saying you aren’t running for Congress?”

  “Are you suggesting the only way I can is if I have you by my side?” It’s a low blow, but I’m growing agitated by this questioning, and I’m wondering when I lost focus on my assistant’s intentions.

  “I’m not suggesting anything, Charlie.” Her eyes lower. “I just thought we’d be good together.”

  “You mean together-together if I became a congressman?” I finally question, and Charity turns bright pink. I exhale, finding the strength to say what comes out next. “Again, I’d like to suggest you walk out of my office, and we try to forget this conversation happened.”

  Charity closes her eyes for a moment, but when she opens them, determination fills them. “I suppose it’s come to a decision, Charlie. Her or me?”

  “You aren’t really giving me an ultimatum, are you?” Is she threatening me? I don’t even blink. “Her.”

  Charity’s mouth falls slightly open, and she nods. “I see. I’ll leave my resignation on your desk in the morning.”

  “Charity,” I say, standing for the first time, circling my desk but then stopping before I reach for her.

  “It’s better this way, Charlie. I messed up. I thought we had something we’d been denying, and when Janessa came along, I misunderstood your position, but I see I was wrong. I’ve always valued you, sir. I…”