by Dave Daren
“Why?” she asked with what sounded like a healthy amount of skepticism.
Given the fact she’d had to pick me up from the sheriff’s department in handcuffs less than a month ago, I couldn’t blame her for being wary.
But, I laughed and reached up to scratch at my cheek.
“It’s nothing bad,” I assured her before I continued on. “We’re having an election party tonight while we wait for the results, and I could use a plus one.”
I held my breath as I waited for her to respond, and I felt like some sort of damn teenager talking to his crush on the phone. Hell, I think I might have been smoother as a teenager.
Clara took a moment to answer, and I could hear her doing something in the house. It sounded like I might have interrupted her doing the dishes.
“A party?” she repeated with a question in her tone.
Over the sound of the static on the line and the sink in the background, I could faintly make out who I presumed to be Emma chattering amicably to her mother.
“What time?” she asked, and I could feel a ‘yes’ just barely out of reach.
I leaned forward to rest my elbows on my desk as I glanced down at the small calendar I kept propped on my desk. Even though I’d stared at the thing every day since we’d set the date, I double-checked what I’d written down just so I didn’t give her the wrong time.
“Eight tonight, shouldn’t go past midnight,” I said. “I know it’s a lot to ask on such short notice, but I’d have felt like an idiot if I didn’t try.”
I practically held my breath as I waited for what I prayed would be a yes and feared would be a crushing no.
I could still hear Emma in the background, and it sounded an awful lot like she was chanting the words “do it.” Or maybe I was just hearing nonsense.
“I promise I won’t end up in handcuffs this time,” I added with a little laugh dancing over my tone.
Clara broke her contemplative silence over the line with a laugh of her own.
“Oh, well, let’s not be hasty,” she teased, and I felt my eyebrows raise and an admittedly pathetic flush rise in my cheeks. “I should be able to get Emma’s sitter to stay the night. God knows she’s been up my ass enough about burning myself out.”
I wanted to pump my fist in the air in triumph which was admittedly fairly lame for a man staring down the barrel of thirty.
“It’s at the Town Hall, the same place they held the debate,” I explained. “I have to be there early, I promised David, but I’ll meet you at the doors at eight?”
Whatever Emma had been chanting across the phone went silent as it sounded like Clara walked into another room.
“I’ll see you at eight,” she said, and it sounded like a promise.
“Eight o’clock,” I repeated instead of goodbye.
I held the phone to my ear even as the line clicked and softly went dead.
Things finally felt like they were coming up in my favor, and I fought off the ever-present fear that it wouldn’t last. All of us at Landon Legal had worked too hard for me to let myself be that negative.
After a few more hours of work that thankfully took my mind off of both Clara and the election results that were slowly looming over us, I closed up the office for the night and stepped out onto the sidewalk.
In the dim light of the evening, the bullet hole in the wall of the office looked eerie. I had continued to hold strong against Brody and Evelyn’s wishes to have it repaired. In a weird way, I’d almost started to view it as a good luck charm. I’d nearly died, but I hadn’t, and that bullet hole was a goddamn testament to that very fact. It was the same reason that I’d kept my bullet-lodged phone.
It was a bit morbid, I realized, that I was so casually collecting bullets in my spare time, but I suppose there were worse hobbies to have. Admittedly, I couldn’t think of any just then.
I didn’t waste any more time staring at my would-have-been demise and instead made my way back to my car in the parking lot. I was more than grateful to have it back in my possession, new scratches and all.
The drive back to my apartment to change into something a little more comfortable than the dress clothes I’d worn to the office was quick, and I didn’t take long to get dressed into a pair of jeans and a casual button-up. It didn’t look nearly as nice as I had for my last failed date with Clara, but I didn’t want to stick out like a sore thumb at the election party.
The trip from my apartment to the hall wasn’t too difficult, and I tried to keep my mind from wandering as I drove. If I thought too hard about the votes being tallied, I was just going to make myself sick with worry. I knew it was futile to try and control the results of an election I’d already voted in with my mind, but it was also hard not to try.
I’d put my blood and sweat into freeing the town of the damned crooked sheriff, and I couldn’t bear to see myself trip and fail now when I was close enough to the finish line I could practically taste it.
Unlike the last time I’d visited, the parking lot wasn’t overflowing into the street, and I didn’t have to circle around the lot at all before I found a parking spot to squeeze into. The cool, comfortable night air was crisp as I stepped from the car, and I took in a deep gulp before I pushed into the building.
A dozen or so people were already scattered around the lobby, just past an hour early, and I gave a small wave of greeting to the faces that turned toward me as they all worked to set up for the party.
This time the space was filled with foldout tables and chairs that had been set up around the room. Small floral arrangements sat on each table, and streamers hung from the ceiling in low, swooping arches.
I wasn’t sure of the specific vibe that election night parties were supposed to have, but this felt like a strange cross between a wedding and a child’s birthday party, but who was I to complain.
I glanced around for David only to see him emerging from the storage room with a truly impressive number of chairs hooked from each arm. I quickly jogged over to him and without asking, I reached out and hefted one of the stacks from his arms with a small grunt. They were much heavier than they looked, and they already looked heavy.
“Archer!” David said with a bright grin and bumped his shoulder against mine instead of attempting to shake my hand. “So glad you could make it, man.”
Despite the fact that we were all about to wait with bated breaths to find out if he’d won the election, David seemed as cool as a cucumber. He was dressed down like I was in a pair of jeans and a nice shirt, and paired with his easy smile, he still looked like the sort of man I’d trust with a law enforcement agency.
I followed him as he walked toward the destination for all of the chairs and deposited them alongside his stack at an empty table. I gave myself a moment to adjust my newly bunched sleeve before I started to unfold each chair and set them out around the table.
“How are you feeling?” I asked with a raised eyebrow as I tucked the chair under the lip of the foldout table.
David exhaled a slow breath through his teeth and shook his head back and forth as he seemed to debate what to say.
“Honestly,” he began as he tucked in a chair of his own. “I’m a little scared shitless. I didn’t think I’d be this nervous since I wasn’t planning on winning. But now that there’s a real chance, I’ve realized that I really want to win.”
He said it like he was surprised by that fact, and I nodded in understanding.
“I want to do well for the people here, you know?” he asked when he saw me nod.
And I did know. It wasn’t the same situation I was in with my law firm, but they were close enough that I saw the similarities between the two circumstances.
We were both doing things that we hadn’t expected we’d ever have to do for the greater good. I certainly hadn’t expected my law degree to bring me this close to guns when I’d secretly shame-watched Legally Blonde with my first college roommate and his girlfriend.
“Believe me, I know,” I promised
him with a laugh.
After we had unfolded all of the chairs and set them up properly at the table, David nodded over his shoulder toward the storage room, and we set off to repeat the process three more times.
While we were organizing chairs, a few of the other people that had stepped forward to help set up the party were arranging trays of food on a long line of foldout tables that had been set side by side to create some sort of buffet.
I recognized Trish from Bertie’s diner with her mountain of dark hair and vibrant lipstick as she barked orders, and I threw my hand up in a wave.
She returned the gesture with a bright, cheeky smile before she returned to bossing around some poor soul who had a plate of mini-sandwiches in his arms.
David disappeared from my side without saying anything as he drifted off to greet someone that had ventured into the room, and I cast a quick glance down at my watch and realized that it was already nearly eight o’clock.
I quickly adjusted my shirt sleeves and rolled them up to my elbows, and then swiped my hand through my hair as I made my way to wait at the front door for Clara.
I pulled my phone from my back pocket and saw that I had messages from both Brody and Evelyn that informed me they’d be showing up at any time now. I felt a small smile dart across my face as I skimmed their respective texts. I was eternally grateful that I worked with people who were just as invested in every step of the messes we got into as I was.
My thumbs hovered over the screen as I prepared to type out a message to let them each know I was here when I heard someone clear their throat in front of me.
“I hope you’re not texting your other hot date,” Clara joked, and my eyes flicked from my screen and up to her, and I decided that my messages to Brody and Evelyn could wait.
She looked just as good as she had when she’d picked me up from the sheriff’s department all of those weeks ago, even if she was just in jeans and a comfortable looking t-shirt. Her hair was loose around her face and shoulders, and I fought the urge to reach out and curl a strand around my finger.
I shifted to slide my phone into my back pocket as I grinned at her.
“Oh, shit, I didn’t expect to get caught,” I said and played along with her joke. “She’s supposed to be here at eight-fifteen.”
Clara let out a melodic laugh, and I felt a lightness in my chest.
I wasn’t sure how I should have greeted her, because a handshake felt downright stupid, but a kiss on the cheek seemed presumptious at best and creepy at worst.
Luckily, Clara seemed to make the decision for me as she took a half-step forward and opened her arms to give me a small hug I was more than willing to reciprocate.
Her perfume was something sweet and floral, and because I’d already elected to not be a creep, I kept myself from nosing into her hair for a deeper smell.
I took a step back but kept my hand propped under her elbow as I turned toward the doors. I gave a small gesture with my free hand for her to lead the way in.
Somehow, it seemed like a hundred or so people had managed to slip just under my radar and wandered inside while I’d been waiting for Clara.
I glanced around the inside of Town Hall and couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride at what I’d helped get into motion. David really had stepped in to be what this town needed, and based on the sheer number of people that had turned up to hopefully celebrate his victory, the town was ready for the change.
“Sorry this isn’t the chicest date spot,” I apologized to Clara with a small grin on my lips that hadn’t dropped since I’d first seen her that night.
Clara gave a soft laugh, and I thought it was a beautiful damn sound as I guided her toward one of the few remaining empty tables.
“I will say, it is the first time that I’ve been invited to an election party for a date,” she admitted, but she didn’t seem too torn up over things.
I laughed as I pulled out one of the metal chairs at the table for her.
Clara gave an appreciative nod as she lowered herself down into the seat, and I sank into place next to her.
“How’s Emma?” I asked because I genuinely did want to know how Emma was.
I was beginning to realize that maybe inviting the woman I’d been trying desperately to take out on a date to the event that had been haunting my dreams and nightmares alike was a bad idea, because despite how badly I wanted to focus on Clara and Clara alone, I couldn’t stop myself from darting my eyes across the room as I tried to both keep track of David and locate Brody and Evelyn.
I was shocked out of my mild neurotic episode when Clara reached out and grabbed my hand.
“Archer, we can smalltalk after they announce the results,” she said with a little laugh, and I felt a pleasant warmth spread through me.
She clearly understood the wild range of emotions I was experiencing, and instead of holding that against me, she was accommodating them. I gave her hand a small squeeze in return, and a little of the stress that held my posture hostage unclenched.
“Thank you,” I told her with a grateful smile and a sigh of relief.
She squeezed my hand right back, but before she could say anything else, three of the chairs at our table were dragged out.
I blinked and looked up in mild surprise to see Evelyn, Brody, and Brody’s wife Leslie as they all sat down in their respective seats.
I didn’t let go of Clara’s hand as I raised my other in a pleasant wave of greeting.
Evelyn’s thin eyebrows arched up at the sight of Clara, but my paralegal looked decidedly more amused than judgmental. In fact, I had a feeling she was also a little pleased that Clara and I had finally managed to have an evening together.
Brody tipped his hat in our direction with a grin of his own on his face as he dropped his arm down along the back of Leslie’s chair.
“Leslie, this is Clara Shepard,” I started the introductions. “Clara, Leslie Lucas, Brody’s wife.”
I gave a small gesture between the two of them as I spoke, and Clara smiled as she separated her hand from mine so she could shake Leslie’s hand. I tried not to whimper as Clara’s hand left mine, though I felt like I’d lost a damn limb.
“It’s great to meet you,” Leslie said with a wide smile and a pleasant lilt to her thick accent.
Leslie’s blonde hair was piled up on top of her head in a truly gravity-defying bun, and when she caught me looking at it, she gave me a wink. I remembered then what Brody had said about his wife intimidating the deputies, and I felt a swell of pride in Leslie.
“I’ve heard nothing about good things,” Leslie continued as she and Clara separated from their handshake.
Clara’s eyebrow quirked up in question as she glanced at me, but I didn’t have any sort of answer as to why Brody and Leslie would be speaking about her.
Fortunately, Brody seemed to notice the look and cleared his throat.
“The Knox case,” he said with a simple shrug, and suddenly everything made much more sense.
Of course, he would have talked to his wife about the lead plaintiff in the case that was getting him back into public favor. Heck, Leslie had probably offered him tips on how to proceed.
Clara nodded in understanding as well as she shifted back into her seat. Her hand dropped down to rest gently on my arm, and I felt as giddy as a little kid.
Christ, maybe I needed to get out more.
I shifted in my seat to let my arm rest along the back of her chair as I tried and failed to focus on the conversations that had started to pick up around the table. I was wondering if anyone had heard any news yet, about anything, but for once, there was nothing but smalltalk about children’s school projects and plans for long weekends to be heard.
There were a few TVs on old-school rolling carts like I’d seen used throughout my time in elementary school set up around the room. All of the televisions were tuned in to different news stations as they all continued to announce the newest tally of votes and who was in the lead, though no one had been wil
ling to call the race yet for either candidate.
I knew if I paid too much attention to the announcements, I’d make myself sick to my stomach, but I couldn’t help it. I kept glancing at the screen and willing someone, anyone, to finally put an end to my misery.
Time flew by in a blur as the night wound up toward the announcement of the votes. Conversations drifted in and out of my ears as people left and returned to our table. I tried to be present for as many different talking points as I could manage, but it was like trying to drown on dry land. All I could think about was the election, and stories about which plumber to call just didn’t hold my interest.
I sent another prayer of thanks up above that Clara seemed to understand my cluttered thoughts, even though I’d been the one to invite her out on this unconventional date. She handled the conversations with ease, and even squeezed my hand to let me know when I should respond.
It felt like I’d been holding my breath for hours by the time someone finally stepped up to the microphone at the front of the room.
I squinted to try and make out who the figure was in the half-darkness of the room, and the thick throng of people crowded around the many tables. I couldn’t figure it out, but I could tell that David was standing near him.
The man tapped the mic and cleared his throat. The speakers sent the sound across the room, and a few people tittered at the noise.
“Everybody, they’re about to announce,” he shouted in what was clear excitement.
It was like a switch had been flicked on in the room as everyone seemed to change gears all at once. Whatever they’d been speaking about was forgotten, and every single person stared wide-eyed at any one of the televisions set up around the room.
On the screen I’d turned my attention to, a petite woman with pitch-black hair sat primly in front of a bar graph with both Thompson’s name and David’s side-by-side. The bars looked neck and neck.
The reporter reached up to touch her ear, and her eyes flicked downwards as she seemed to receive some sort of news. Her eyes turned back toward the camera, and my breath caught in my throat as I waited for what was either going to be victory or a death knell.
