by Jacie Floyd
Most of all, he wondered about Harper.
Memories of her constantly invaded his thoughts. Her sweetness, her kiss, her unfailing optimism, her determination to get things done, and get them done right. Her hope of winning over the town.
Josh said things hadn’t gone well for her after they’d let the cat out of the bag about the two of them. The last time Zach had talked to his brother, the connection kept breaking up, but there was something about Harper and her former fiancé. Something about some pictures he’d taken.
Zach remembered Harper telling him the jerk had been a photographer and more interested in Fiona and his career than he was in Harper, the idiot. But how that related to Harper in the present, he had no idea.
The night following the car wreck he’d made a colossal error by walking right up to her front door and marching right in. In retrospect, he probably shouldn’t have done that. But he was tired of pretending he didn’t care about her and tired of sneaking around. By the time he left, everyone knew about them and blamed Harper for him leaving. Like it was her fault. He’d heard from Rachel that there was a petition to get her removed as librarian. Damned busybodies. Andrew Berkman probably wouldn’t let that happen.
It had taken this distance for Zach to see he no longer owed Sunnyside anything but gratitude. His debt had been paid in full. They weren’t always perfect, and they weren’t always right. It wouldn’t hurt them to be more accepting, more inclusive than they’d been in the past.
Harper’s arrival had shone a big spotlight on their failings, but it had illuminated some of their finer points. too.
With this new perspective, he could admit that he missed them. He wanted to be a part of the town now. He needed to be a part of the town. But more importantly, he absolutely wanted and needed Harper in his life. He’d called her, but she hadn’t answered or returned his call. A few days later, he’d typed in a carefully crafted text message and then accidentally—damn!—dropped his phone in front of a Jeep, which had promptly rolled over and busted it to smithereens. Since they’d been packing up to move to another remote location at the time and hadn’t been near anything that resembled a town since then, he hadn’t been able to replace it. Or call anyone back home.
He’d made his decision. He’d fulfill his contract. Before he signed on again, he’d go back to Sunnyside. Hopefully before Christmas.
Hopefully, in time to help Harper. If she needed his help.
A week before Christmas, Harper stepped into the generic town council meeting room with her head held high, just as she had the first time she’d appeared before this group. If they wanted to fire her based on a trumped-up morals charge, fine. She’d pack up her stuff and her cat and move on. Good thing she hadn’t bothered to unpack her Christmas decorations.
She was accustomed to moving on in life. Damn near a pattern with her. But just like the time she had dug in her heels and refused to leave Chicago when her mother and Fiona did, she wouldn’t go down this time without a fight either. She had a speech prepared, affidavits and witnesses to speak on her behalf, and a detailed rebuttal of the charges against her.
Unlike the first time she’d entered this room when only a few spectators had been on hand, it was now jammed to the rafters. The crowd silently parted to allow her to take the only empty seat in the front row. She recognized most of the faces now. Although she spotted Kate, Brianna, Al Tucker, and others who had treated her like persona non grata ever since Zach left, there were some people gathered here—like Daxina and her family as well as Liam and Cora—that she considered friends. Gratifying to see Myrna and Bennie occupying the seats to Harper’s left with Claire on the right. The reporter, George Mason, had grabbed a seat down at the end of the first row, too.
Too bad Zach wasn’t here. He’d tried to call her once. She’d missed the call, but replayed the voicemail message until she’d worn her battery out. He’d texted her a few days later, but hadn’t gotten a response since her reply. Josh and Rachel hadn’t heard from him lately either. With his assignment in such a volatile spot on the other side of the world, his lack of communication kept her awake at nights.
But she had to face her own problems first. A lot of folks were rooting for her to get her comeuppance. They’d probably cheer her termination. If they got the proceedings over quickly, she could be back in Chicago in time for the holidays.
If that’s where she decided to go. She could spend Christmas with India and Fiona at Wex’s place in Montana. The ranch would be beautiful for the holidays. That was always fun. She wasn’t in the mood for fun, but stepfather’s spread was peaceful and isolated. Perfect for hiding out and moping in private, if that’s what she wanted to do.
Only it wasn’t.
She wanted to stay here. To see the library project through its first year and watch it become the fully functioning community asset she’d planned. She wanted to make her family and friends proud and win over the people who doubted her.
But she couldn’t do the impossible. Andrew Berkman would back her, but he wasn’t here and just his written support might not be enough to save her in the face of stringent disapproval.
All the council members were in place, with Cassie sitting to her father’s left. The young woman had a recording device in front of her. In that familial way Sunnyside tended to operate, Rachel had taken Zach’s seat on the council and Josh had replaced the disgraced Nelson Whitherford. Rachel, Cassie, Josh, and Barb wore matching poker faces.
Promptly at seven, Mick banged the gavel and cleared his throat. “Governing a small community is difficult at the best of times, but the town council is regularly forced to make difficult decisions. This isn’t the best of times by any means, but our intention this evening is to hear both sides of a request that has been made to remove Harper Simmons from her post as the director of the Sunnyside Public Library. No matter what recommendations are made here this evening, Andrew Berkman will need to be consulted regarding the ultimate decision.”
“Why isn’t he here?” Barb asked.
“He’s in Russia this week on business,” Cora said from the row behind Harper.
“How on earth do you know that?”
Cora turned a giggle into a cough. “It was on the news.”
“I believe everyone here will agree that Miss Simmons has done an outstanding job with the renovations and the proposed new programs and community outreach. Early on, she spotted collusion and illegal activity by a former council member and a local contractor that resulted in an arrest and the return of a sizable amount of money to the town coffers. For which we are grateful.” Mick picked up several papers from the stack in front of him and slid his reading glasses in place. “I have an affidavit here from Myrna Hopper attesting to the positive influence and leadership Harper has provided while earning a sterling reputation throughout the state library system.”
Myrna’s words touched Harper deeply. The older woman squeezed Harper’s hand and Bennie gave her a thumbs up.
“I also have an endorsement from Andrew Berkman stating that Harper continues to have his full support. He states the opinion that her conduct has not compromised her moral or personal integrity in any way.”
Good for Andrew. In her private conversation with him, he’d asked her not to submit her resignation but indicated he would accept it if that was her decision.
“Now.” Mick perused another document. “We have a petition signed by some three hundred Sunnyside citizens with the request that Miss Simmons be removed from her position. The allegations brought against her are personal in nature and, in my opinion, vindictive, and have no place in our consideration of the work Miss Simmons has accomplished here.”
The Mayor’s editorial comment sent a wave of mutters through the crowd.
“We’ll get to the testimony for both sides shortly, but we’ve also received a petition signed by over a thousand students and teachers asking that she be retained in her position.”
Miguel Sanchez, the owner of The Taco Shack
, raised his hand.
Mitch tipped his head forward to look at the man over the top of his reading glasses. “Yes, Mr. Sanchez?”
“I don’t know the rules here, Mr. Mayor, but may I speak?” He took off his ball cap and rotated it in his hands.
“Did you petition the council for a slot before the meeting?”
“No, sir, but it’s about Miss Simmons, and it is important. It won’t take long.”
“You may speak if you wish, Mr. Sanchez,” Mick responded, “but if you’ll wait just a moment, you may not find it necessary.”
“I would like speak my words for the record,” Mr. Sanchez said.
Mick waved his hand. “Proceed.”
“The parents of the high-school students would like to thank Miss Simmons for providing our teenagers with a place to read, study, and write their research papers.” He stopped and consulted a crumpled note in his hand. “She started programs that have helped with their college applications and helped them determine their scholarship eligibility. On her own time, she reviewed their admissions essays. She doesn’t frown at them when they ask for help or when their English is not good or when they make too much noise in the Reading Room.” Spectators around him nodded in agreement. “Our children and town have the chance for a better future because she brought the library back to life in Sunnyside.”
At that moment, he looked over at Harper and waved at her, like he always did when he prepared her quesadillas. Harper’s vision blurred from a sheen of tears. “Because we appreciate what she has done for us, I have brought a petition with another thousand signatures requesting that she keep her job. Instead of firing her, we should give her a raise.”
“Or a promotion,” Mrs. Sanchez said beside him.
“Or a medal,” Miguel added.
Harper couldn’t believe her ears. She had no idea she’d made the impact they claimed. She’d just tried to help. And she was so pleased to know that she had. No matter what happened next, she was happy she came to this town. Mr. Sanchez’s statements would always be a reminder that she had not completely failed during this important phase of her life.
Murmurs rose from the observers in the back. Harper supposed her witnesses had finally arrived. She didn’t want to draw additional attention to her mother and sister by turning to look for them.
Mick banged his gavel once more. “Thank you for that ringing endorsement, Mr. Sanchez, although it was unnecessary. The board is quite aware of the contributions Miss Simmons has made. If we aren’t, we haven’t been paying good enough attention. We’ve been told repeatedly by our children, our spouses, our friends, and our neighbors that Harper Simmons has been a positive influence on our community.”
Two people appeared behind Harper. The scent of Channel No. 5 had her lifting her face to stare into that of her mother’s. On her other side, her sister patted her shoulder.
“I’m India Lawrence and this is my other daughter, Fiona Wilde. We’re here to provide support for Harper.” Her mother’s melodic voice captured the attention of the crowd.
The citizens of Sunnyside gaped in awe. It wasn’t every day they had two of fashions brightest lights and most recognizable beauties grace their nondescript administration building.
Fiona spoke up. “Mr. Mayor, we met when I visited here last month to work with Harper and some high-school students on a fashion project. May I speak before the council and the town?”
The laid-back mayor was starting to look shell-shocked from the chaos of his usual sleepy meetings but didn’t try to stop her. “Be my guest.”
Fiona held up a grocery-store tabloid. The caption accompanying the front-page photo screamed Rock Princesses Gone Wilde. “I won’t deny that this is a picture of me and my sister leaving a party where drugs were being openly used. ‘Leaving’ being the keyword in that sentence.” She moved forward and dropped the offensive newspaper into a trash can.
“We were concerned about Marcus Waring, a friend of ours who was in a bad place emotionally and over-indulging to a harmful extent. Harper removed drug paraphernalia from his hands as we escorted him from the club. The picture her former fiancé took of her shows her surrounded by smoke with the apparatus in her hands. The photographer intentionally misrepresented the situation in an attempt to blackmail our family.
“My father, Wexley Wilde, learned a long time ago not to let losers extort money from him and he refused to pay. Intending to get back at Harper for ending their engagement and to make my father pay in one way or another, the lowlife sold the pictures to a sleazy tabloid. Harper didn’t want to incriminate our friend, but I’ve brought with me an affidavit from Marcus confirming the story. He went into rehab shortly after we intervened and has been clean and sober for more than a year.”
The crowd audibly gasped as Wexley Wilde stepped forward. “I didn’t realize what kind of trouble this would cause Harper in Sunnyside. I figured I’d let the asshole do his worst. Harper’s such a good kid, I never thought anyone would believe any shit about her.” He glanced at the mayor. “But, in my world, you can’t let blackmailers get a toe-hold or they never let go.”
“In any world,” the mayor agreed.
“My security staff recorded his call to me. I’m ready to prosecute if he doesn’t publicly retract his statement that Harper and Fiona were using drugs at the party that night.”
Poor Wexley. Harper hated that he’d been dragged into this mess. She should have known he’d personally speak out about that dumbass she’d been engaged to. Despite Wex’s hard-hitting rock-and-roll image, he’d left that lifestyle behind him years ago. Now, when he wasn’t touring, he could be found tending the gardens at one of his homes, checking on his investments, or planning exotic family vacations for him, India, Fiona, and Harper.
“Thank you for your testimony on her behalf, Mr. Wilde,” Mick said. “But I believe if I ask for a vote in favor of rescinding Miss Simmons’ contract, it will meet with a minority. Instead, I’ll ask for a vote of those in favor of retaining her services. All in favor, say ‘Aye’.”
“Hang on, Mayor.” Brianna jumped up. “If you’re all so ready to sweep aside the allegations of incompetence and drug use, what about the morality charges? Don’t you remember how she snuck around carrying on an affair with a respectable member of Sunnyside society?”
Barb sat up straighter at the council table. “Brianna, sit down, please.”
“Mother, everybody knows she was carrying on with Zach Novak from the minute she arrived in town. I saw her sink her hooks into him the very first day they met. No telling who she’s been sleeping with since she ran him off. I don’t think that’s the right example for our children, do you?” She looked around for agreement, but very few voices were raised in support.
“Has anyone seen Harper Simmons behave indecently in public since her arrival in Sunnyside?” Barb asked, giving her daughter a chance to make her point.
“No, but I saw her drunk at the Lucky Dog one night, and Zach went chasing after her.” This came from one of Hugh McMahon’s cousins.
“And I saw Zach sneaking over to her place most nights after dark.” One of Harper’s neighbors voiced that information. “It was disgraceful what I saw him do there night after night.”
“That speaks more to my morality than hers, don’t you think?” came a beloved voice from the back of the room.
Chills ran down Harper’s back. Her head jerked around. She stood to get a better view, too shocked to speak. Blinking, she couldn’t believe her eyes. Zach! She gulped several times, too overcome to get her head or thoughts in working order.
But she didn’t need to speak. With his reappearance, the crowd went wild. Only in Sunnyside would Zach Novak draw a bigger response than one of the world’s most famous cover models and her legendary rocker father.
“If a single lady sleeping with a single guy violates some kind of morals clause in this county,” Jimbo said from his place by the door, “I’d have to hang around outside the Lucky Dog and arrest half the
couples who leave there.”
Half the crowd shouted with laughter.
“I don’t know about you, Mick,” Zach said, “but I think you have enough testimony and evidence to put an end to these proceedings. And I think the council owes Harper an apology. Do you want to take your vote now?”
“All in favor of dropping the charges against Harper Simmons and tendering her our heartfelt apologies instead, say ‘Aye’.”
Each council member spoke the affirmation in turn. Then Cassie spoke up. “I know don’t officially have a vote, but ‘aye’ from me too, Daddy.”
Her mother followed suit.
Then Daxina and her brother chimed in. Miguel Sanchez, Myrna Hooper, and others picked up the word, too, until the nearly unanimous vote rang out around the room. Applause and cheers burst from the crowd. Harper wasn’t sure if she was laughing or crying by the end of it.
Mick let Harper and her friends have a moment to bask in their approval before he banged the gavel to restore order.
Then he looked directly at her. “I’m sorry for the pain you’ve suffered by some old-fashioned and misguided members of this town. Although you’re under contract to us for another nineteen months, we know you can’t be forced to stay, and you may choose to resign. If you prefer to leave after all that’s occurred, we’ll try to change your mind. As my grandmother used to say, ‘Old ways don’t open new doors’, and we’ve held on to some of our old ways for too long. What do you say, Harper? Are you willing to give us another chance?”
Her hands and knees shook as she stood and faced the people of the town she loved. “I say yes, if you’ll have me. I may have gotten off to a rocky start here, but I’ve always wanted to stay. There was never any question about that.”
“Thank you. This meeting is adjourned to my offices across the street where there’s hot chocolate and Myrtle’s cheesecake waiting for us. I don’t know how much cheesecake we have, but everyone’s invited.”
“I’ll get all the desserts the diner has left for the day,” Lenore said. “She’s partial to my double chocolate malted cake you know.”
