Silver Mayor: The Silver Foxes of Blue Ridge

by L. B. Dunbar

  “And what would that be?”

  “Something extreme. Your own announcement. Do something that takes the focus off the images and onto you in a positive light.”

  “I don’t suppose a run for Congress will look favorable amid nude photos.” Not that I want to run or even hint that I might. I’ve already told Janessa I’m not interested in that kind of battle.

  Trying to break the tension, I joke, “You don’t think seeing me naked is going to be seen favorably?” Is he saying I’m not fit to look at? I swipe a hand through my hair. It certainly won’t be flattering, but some people like that stuff.

  “Dick pics are old news,” Jordan counters, and this time, I do laugh. A little bit. “But if you give them somewhere else to focus their attention, people will grab on to it.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know, but you’re a smart man, Charlie. You’ll think of something grander than nude images. Think opposite, but big.”

  “And what’s opposite of dick pictures?” I ask, hardly believing we are having such a conversation.

  “Don’t know. I guess something opposite sleazy images.”

  Only they weren’t sleazy at the time. Angela and I were on our honeymoon. A couple in love. We’d just celebrated our wed—

  I sit straighter, pressing a hand into my thigh as I stare at the sheer material over the window.

  “I might have an idea.”

  It’s the most ridiculous thing, and I have no idea if it will work or backfire, but I must do something.

  Time for me to call in a plan B of my own.

  28

  Proposals

  [Janessa]

  Nerves riddle me as we near the next town council meeting. Charlie has returned, but he’s been conspicuously absent over the past week.

  I’ve told him his daughter is his first priority, and I expect nothing less from him.

  “Don’t say it like that,” he said to me.

  “I don’t mean anything other than you’re a great father, and I know you’ll always put Lucy first.”

  Charlie sounds like a broken man. He’s told me about Angela’s threats to reveal the naked images and make a scandal of things if he doesn’t comply with her wishes for more visitation. Personally, I don’t see how the photographs won’t reflect negatively on her. She took the pictures. She’s the one who plans to use them. Of course, she’ll do things anonymously, just as anonymous tips exposed Richard and his many flames over the course of our marriage.

  With Lucy back in the house, there are no more late-night shenanigans between Charlie and me at his place. I’ve already had a public relationship, one visible because of my marriage to Richard, so I’ve relished the privacy of us being together for almost two weeks. It’s as if I was getting away with something, as if I have a secret.

  The dirty little part are the words slowly eating at me. Not that sex with Charlie isn’t amazing, and it’s not that sex is all we have because we’ve spent plenty of time chatting in his bed, on his living room carpet, or at his kitchen island. However, in public, the distance is becoming daunting as if we’re doing something wrong. As though we’re the ones having an affair when we are consensual, unmarried adults.

  In some ways, it’s been a relief to no longer sneak out of the house in the middle of the night like a rebellious teen off to meet the forbidden boyfriend. I’ve worried that Vega would wake and find me missing. She sleeps like the dead, though, and I might need to get her snoring checked out. Most nights, I wouldn’t leave until after I was certain my mother’s tears had washed her into a restless abyss for the evening, and Zander had returned from the bar.

  It turns out, my brother is staying in town a bit longer than his initial two weeks.

  “I think I’ll take over Dad’s position for a little bit.” Surprised by the suggestion, Zander explains how his company, which he dedicated years to through his programming skills, sold out to a larger corporation who downsized the former employees despite seniority. As a kid, Zander hated being outdoors. He begrudgingly worked with my father and a crew of landscapers during his high school years and then spent every remaining minute in his room gaming.

  “I like it here,” he told me, shrugging as if he couldn’t explain it any more than I can. When I asked about his house, he told me it’s already on the market. “I never needed such a big place for only me.” My brother’s tone rang with sadness as if he’s realized the role of an eternal bachelor isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I’m not certain if he’s had any hookups in Blue Ridge. The Ridged Edge would certainly provide him with opportunity, but I don’t doubt I’d hear of it. The ladies at the diner have noticed Zander, and he was a source of discussion at the first book club I attended at Roxanne’s bookstore. Her Friday First Chapter Reads are a good way to mingle with adults and giggle over books. However, it’s all fun and games until your brother is the hot topic among the single women in the crowd.

  Originally, I thought Cora Conrad was one of those single women available to lust after my brother, but it turns out, she’s not quite on the market, and partially explains her connection to our team who surprisingly shows up to the town council meeting.

  When our presentation begins, I see Charlie slip into the back of the high school auditorium. He doesn’t come forward like I expect, choosing to linger behind a few of the taller bodies on the edge of the room. The pull I feel to him is ever-present as if my body knew he was near, and my eyes sought him out. I’m also grateful he’s giving us this time to shine without interfering.

  I explain the layout of the walk, the design of the park, and the plans for the church again. Cora has been persuasive. Duncan Construction has committed to renovating the church as long as Milton Duncan can film it for Rehab Dad, his home renovation show. Not to mention it will be a tax write-off as a donation. High schoolers have been recruited to clean up the ground area and assemble the playground equipment, including Alyce Wright’s girls’ volleyball team, working as a way to pay it back to the community for their unending support of the most winning team in the high school’s history. We also plan to host a local fundraising walk. Milestone bricks will be inlaid in the ground commemorating the town’s part in raising funds for the project. And finally, Rebel’s Edge, the local motorcycle club, has decided to host a charity ride in the name of Michael Harrington, as the community center and baseball diamond behind the center will be named for him.

  The townspeople go wild at this final suggestion. People stir, and voices rise, and the line of men in the back of the room stands firm and grim in their leathers and tats. Only one man is missing from the line-up, and that’s Ranger. The man who did not tell me his real name was James Harrington. The same man who I’ve learned is the father of the young man we plan to name the center after.

  “I don’t see what we need another baseball diamond for. We have two here at the high school,” one townsperson asks, and I see Wyatt nodding his head in agreement.

  “The high school diamonds are too large for smaller children, not to mention Michael’s favorite sport was baseball.” I didn’t know the child, but my subtle interviewing skills have given me this information. I didn’t want to ask any of the family outright as no one speaks of him. “The smaller fields will cater to introductory-level baseball and softball.”

  “Why do we need a playground near the town center?” another person interjects. “We’re surrounded by the woods and have various play areas nearby.”

  I address this question. “Because every town should have updated, environmentally safe play equipment, and many of the other parks don’t. Building on Blue Ridge’s sense of community, it’s nice to have a central park, and the train theme for the future park blends with the large locomotive sitting in the middle of town.”

  “Having a church as a community center seems sacrilegious,” another shouts, and people join the bandwagon there with agreeing jeers.

  “We’ve been assured by the former congregation they’d be proud for
their former house of God to be used as a temple of community activity.” Cora adds her religious euphemisms in hopes of bringing the people down a notch.

  As the crowd continues to grumble, Wyatt bangs a gavel against the podium like a judge, and a deep, rugged voice speaks above the unsettled audience.

  “Giant Brewing Company would like to match what the Rebels raise.” Giant’s voice bellows over everyone, his tone matching his stature despite his general quiet as a man. The brewery is the largest company in the area and employs a good percentage of people from the town and county proper. I watch as Justice, president of the club, turns his head in Giant’s direction, and Giant nods once.

  Slowly, things make sense as Michael Harrington was Giant and Charlie’s nephew. My heart breaks for James, a man I don’t know, and his son’s story, which is just tragic. My eyes leap to Charlie, realizing the shock of plan B might be more personal in nature than I intended. This is a gesture of goodwill to the community, not a hurtful reminder of what their family lost.

  Giant’s support causes people to grow quieter. Cora turns her attention to Wyatt.

  “Well?” She lifts a brow, expecting him to set it to a vote. Wyatt huffs.

  “We’ll need the mayor before we can vote.”

  “The mayor is present,” Charlie states, stepping forward, “and I fully support this plan. The research is there. The money decided. Minus the actual construction of the walk, the donations of time and material won’t cost the town a penny. The entire project is outside of the town’s funds, and overall, it’s a great idea.”

  The crowd quiets as Charlie makes his way down the center aisle, his eyes holding on to me. My heart races for some reason as he continues walking right up to me.

  “In fact, I support it so much that I want the town to witness my faith in Janessa Cruz.”

  “Charlie,” I mutter as Charlie nears the low stage, and I slowly step to the side away from Cora. We stood during the presentation and have remained upright during the questions.

  Charlie climbs the short set of stairs and pauses before me. “I want them all to see how much I believe in you.”

  Then he lowers to one knee and takes my hand. “Janessa Cruz, will you marry me?”

  Before I can answer, the crowd breaks into a rambunctious outcry once again.

  29

  Failure Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

  [Charlie]

  As Janessa stares at me, I realize I’ve made a grave mistake. I hold out a gorgeous and garish ring, expectantly awaiting a response that is being drowned out by the crowd’s gasps and accelerating excitement.

  A smile I’m certain Janessa has perfected over the years graces her lips while her typically darker skin turns pale.

  “What are you doing?” she grits through clenched teeth, her eyes shifting to the crowd for a second.

  “I’m showing my faith in you by professing it to the entire town.”

  She cups my face and lowers for my cheek, putting her face out of sight of the general audience, as she whispers, “You have some explaining to do.”

  She pulls back, and I see the error of my ways. She doesn’t love me.

  I thought this would show her how I felt about her, among other things.

  It’s the among other things part which niggles at my chest, but I ignore the pressure against my ribs. Still on my knee, holding out the diamond ring, my eyes beg her to accept.

  “This isn’t real, is it? You’re asking me to pretend, aren’t you?” Her lips hardly move as she speaks through her gritted teeth. Her plastic smile freezes in place. “Stand like I’ve accepted and slip it on me.”

  This isn’t how I saw things happening. This isn’t how I’d hoped it would be. And I see too late, it’s all going to backfire.

  I stand as she suggests, put the ring on her finger, and find it looks out of place among the slenderness of her fingers. Not to mention, it’s brash and overstated, which isn’t how I view her. She’s outside the norm—elegant and refined—and she needs a ring that expresses her simplistic beauty.

  Dammit, I really messed this up.

  I seek her eyes, but she avoids mine, looking down at the sparkling band of silver and glaring stone.

  “Let me see,” Cora says behind her, and woodenly Janessa turns, holding out her hand in another practiced move, pretending she accepted my proposal.

  Pretending.

  I’m no better than Richard, and the thought hits me in the gut like a sucker punch. I need air. Rubbing a hand up her back, I press a kiss to her cheek, and then step off to the side, hoping to make my way outside. It takes a while to make it through the crowd as I struggle to press forward and keep my composure. She doesn’t love me.

  I shake hands with those congratulating me.

  She doesn’t love me.

  I smile falsely to those surprised but offering words of best wishes.

  She doesn’t love me.

  Rushing into the hallway, I break free of the auditorium and then hastily move forward to the first exit I find. Pressing the door open, I gulp in the night air as I bend at the waist and grip my knees once outside.

  What did I just do?

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The gruffness of the male voice coming from my left surprises me despite its familiarity. Leaning against the exterior wall stands a man, one leg hitched up so his foot presses into the brick at his back. His arms cross, but it’s the glare in those eyes that should frighten me. However, I’m not afraid of my older brother.

  “James? What are you doing here?” James. My brother, who left the family after tragedy struck his, stares back at me, eyes full of ice and ire.

  “Just what the fuck were you thinking?” His voice fills with rage, and his jaw clenches with anger.

  “What do you mean?”

  He steps up to me so quickly, I take a step back, like the kid I used to be when he approached in a bad mood.

  “Don’t play dumb, Charlie. We all know you’re the smartest of the bunch, but this is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.”

  “Asking her to marry me?”

  His brows pinch, forming a deep crease between them. “Asking who to marry you?”

  “Weren’t you just in the room?” I’m growing confused, but James’s agitation grows.

  “You proposed to someone?” he questions.

  “Were you in the meeting?” I counter. His head turns away briefly before those cold eyes return to my face.

  “Yeah, I was in the meeting. Heard about the presentation as somehow my club got roped into providing a ride for funds, only one small detail someone forgot to tell me.” James leans toward me, his index finger and thumb held less than an inch apart.

  Michael.

  “You didn’t know about—?”

  “Don’t say his name,” James hisses, and for a second, I see the menacing man he’s become. Not that James wasn’t always a little scary, a little aloof, and a whole lot of trouble, but he’s always been my brother, and I’ve viewed him no other way than being my kin and loving him unconditionally because of it. I’ve looked into his club, and while not the most respectable, they also are not the nefarious one-percenters like people think every club is. The Sons of Anarchy do not live outside my town. Rebel’s Edge like to party hard and get out of hand occasionally, but in general, they’re decent people—a collective bunch of broken souls living on the edge. Rebel’s Edge.

  “You didn’t know?” I question. If the club agreed to donate finances, how did James not know the future community center would be dedicated to his son? He’s the second in command.

  “No, I didn’t know, and that stunt in there.” His arm flails out, pointing back at the exterior double doors. “That was just bullshit. Who approved the name that woman proposed?”

  “It isn’t formally approved yet,” I state, but if I had to guess, I’d say Cora Conrad offered the suggestion.

  “Well, it wasn’t Cora who said it. It was that other bi—”

&n
bsp; “Don’t you dare finish that word,” I command, pointing a finger in my brother’s face. Menacing or not, he will not disrespect Janessa. He can be however he wants with his own woman, but not mine.

  “Ah, still Goodie Two-shoes Charlie. Don’t drink, don’t smoke, what do you do?” He mocks me with old song lyrics, and then slowly, his face hardens, even harder than it already is. “Wait a minute.”

  His eyes narrow, and there isn’t a word to describe how he’s looking at me.

  “She the one you proposed to?” His brows lift, his eyes widening. As if his face is at war with itself, he fights mocking laughter while still being angry.

  “Yes,” I whisper, feeling unsettled about…everything.

  “You in love with her?”

  “Yes,” I repeat myself.

  “She know that?”

  Does she? Have I shown her enough how attracted I am to her? Then again, the attraction is what prompted me to propose to Angela—attraction to her mind and determination—but Janessa is different, and because of that, I realize too late I have not done enough, not done this correctly.

  “I…I don’t know,” I whisper, swallowing back the bile in my throat.

  “You’re a damn fool, Charlie. Got it up here”—he points at his temple, tapping a finger at the side— “but not here.” He flattens a palm over his chest.

  “Like you should talk,” I snap, defending myself like when I was a child.

  How can you be so smart and stupid at the same time?

  Am not.

  Are too.

  We’re both older, both wiser, only there’s one area I think my brother has made the biggest mistake of his life, and I seem to be following in his footsteps.

  “Don’t you say her name either,” he warns, the hiss so deep he sounds like a rattlesnake ready to strike. I wouldn’t put it past him to do as much. Despite his threat, I stand taller.