Page 26 of Smooth Talk

Chapter 9

Grayson

The past few days have flown by in a blur of meetings, speeches and mediations. The press around my social life has significantly died down. Rusty actually ran a political piece this week on a new youth center/land conservancy proposal I’ve been working on for months. Like he was writing for a legitimate newspaper. Wonders never cease.

I’ve just stepped out of the shower and I’m pacing in my closet going over my speech for tonight—another benefit. Where I’ll no doubt have to defend that proposal. Sanders has been badmouthing it all over town to any and every one who’ll listen. He’s laser focused on the initial usage of taxpayer funds and resolutely ignores the projected revenues and jobs it will bring to our town for decades. Not to mention, completely disregarding the fact that the surplus in the budget is specifically allotted for a project like the youth center.

He hasn’t even had the decency to produce a viable green alternate plan for the land usage. Which, to me at least, speaks to his lack of concern for our environment. It’ll make me doubt the enthusiasm of our community at large if enough people side with him. Then again, greed is a powerful motivator.

Clary Tate donated ninety-three acres of prime real estate (heavily wooded land with its own water source, just west of the city limits) last September when she passed away. Stating the land should be used to better the community and should be decided on by the counsel. Clary was a staunch advocate for children (not having any of her own) and the environment and would roll over in her grave if she knew what Sanders was proposing (especially since he wants to remove three quarters of the trees and vegetation). He’s pushing a shopping mall/entertainment/condominium complex. It wouldn’t surprise me if Montgomery Enterprises has a stake in the ‘companies’ bidding on the land development and construction. Shady.

Being a lawyer on the city council, I deal with corrupt assholes like the Montgomerys all the time. They’re the reason I’m running for mayor. They aren’t doing anything different than what’s been done in this country for ages. But our town doesn’t need to submit to tradition. We’ve always gone against the grain, kept growth small, supported each other. We know our neighbors. Help our neighbors. What would happen to all the mom and pop places downtown if we let in even more corporations? I’ll tell you what would happen— they would wither away along with over half of our resident’s jobs. We have a few corporate grocery and retail shops in the county, but our town was built on small business, and I want to see them thrive. I’m betting there’s enough voters that still hold true to those values.

Hell, our town was founded on land conservancy. Sanders just looks like the tool he is, thinking we’d love nothing more than to tear down a big chunk of forestry in the name of progress. I’m opposing his proposal and only need to sway two council votes. A new youth center and park is the perfect way to capitalize on the natural beauty surrounding us while providing a safe place for kids to play; the benefits outweigh that of any high-rise. With indoor facilities (locker rooms, lounge, arcade, basketball courts, a sauna and Olympic-size pool), outdoor pavilions, a splash pad, playground, tennis courts, ball fields, batting cages, multi-use trails and canoe and kayak rentals, families would be able to enjoy the space year-round. We have three other small parks, but our town is growing. The children of Willow Creek will need this space in the years to come. We’d be able to keep over half of the existing trees and this proposal wouldn’t pollute the creek or pond with the waste a high-rise would bring. The rental and membership fees would be nominal, and the money would funnel back into the community through park maintenance and public-school projects.

Sanders is out for what he can get, and I fully intend on shutting him down. I need to get someone on my side at the paper who’ll do some actual investigative journalism. That Kendall guy I met at the gala seemed to have a good head on his shoulders. If he’s there tonight, I’ll have a private word.

Beverly should be back from the cleaners with my suit any minute now. I need to slip on my underwear, so I don’t give her a heart attack. I seriously don’t know what I’d do without her. She’s the best assistant I’ve ever had. She organizes my life to a T; I need to keep that ticker healthy.

I take a deep breath to refocus my attention on tonight, but the aqua stripes on my boxer briefs pull my thoughts in a different direction. They’re almost same shade as Poppy’s eyes. I can’t get that woman out of my head, ever since the Gala. In all honesty since we met. Not proud of it, but she’s played a starring role in all of my fantasies for the past several weeks.

She’s throwing me off my game. I haven’t been laid in weeks. And she’s to blame. Every time I try flirting with a woman, my dick refuses to get on board. The only thing he’s interested in is Poppy, and apparently, my brain just recently got the damn memo. I need to see her again. She doesn’t strike me as a one-night stand kind of girl, and I’m not sure it’s what I want from her. First time for everything.

It was too easy to open up to her. I don’t know if it was physical attraction or her own openness that drew me in. Surprisingly, I found myself staring into her alluring eyes and talking about myself with candor, a thing I never do.

She makes me think I’ve been going about everything all wrong. Maybe I’m growing tired of the games I usually play with women. Or maybe I’m just growing up. A mere hook up won’t cut it anymore. I’m craving connection. Someone I can share something with, other than just my cock. Someone I can talk to. Someone I can trust. And that someone just might be Poppy.

I missed an opportunity the other night. I was going to ask her out after I put Mimi in the car, but she was already gone by the time I came back. I weaseled her number from my mother under the guise of asking her to do some work for me at my house (it was either I ask mom or O, and I’m not ready to answer any questions he may have about why I want it). Honestly, mom would have given it to me with or without the ruse (she’s the one who made the introduction, after all— something tells me she wouldn’t mind my ulterior motives). I just don’t want her reading too much into it. Though I have every intention of asking Poppy to revamp my space later, I will be taking her out first.

If she were anything like my usual conquests, I’d buy her a couple drinks then bang her brains out in the penthouse suite at my family’s hotel downtown. The drinks are usually optional. But Poppy’s different. Refreshing as hell. She wasn’t interested in my connections or in getting her name or picture in the paper. If anything, she seemed to dislike that aspect of my life, with an ex as infamous as hers, I can’t blame her.

After a quick internet search, I knew every sordid detail of the scandal. I’m glad she had a chance to tell me her side of the story first. Although a very neat and concise version, it was pretty different than the picture painted in national headlines. The press wasn’t kind to her, and although she was ultimately cleared of any wrongdoing; the end of the story wasn’t as widely covered as the allegations. After some digging, I found that she’d sold everything and returned all the money to her ex’s victims, when in most cases like these, the wife keeps it. I can tell she’s still wary of any kind of attention, and rightfully so. She wasn’t overly interested in my money either; I’m the one that brought up the subject, and she didn’t persist. See— refreshing.

She clearly has integrity, though maybe not the best judgement. She fell for a conman. I’m not criticizing; we’ve all made mistakes, myself included, but getting her to let her guard down with me will to be tricky. And I want to get behind all those walls she’s carefully constructed.

She’s almost too perfect. Gorgeous, intelligent, talented, classy, funny with a hint of vulnerability. A dedicated mother, from what I gather. I’ve never dated a single mom before. I haven’t really ‘dated’ a woman in a while, but I’m changing the way I do things with Poppy.

Fuck, I haven’t asked a woman out since college (most women throw themselves at me—yes, I do know how that sounds and I’m regretting the ease of it and how out of practice I am right now). I’m anxious. I take a deep breath and swallow my nerves. I’m asking Poppy Monroe on a date. The worst she can do is say no, and without sounding like too much of a pompous ass, no woman ever has.

With renewed confidence, I shoot a quick text. I’m Grayson Maxwell, for Chrissake. I do not puss out. Okay, so a real man would’ve called. (*I occasionally puss out.)

Me: Have dinner with me Friday

Poppy: Ummm… Who is this?

Shit.

Me: Grayson

Poppy: Maxwell?

Me: You know any others?

Poppy: Yes, but we haven’t spoken since I was 16. Which would make this text a little unexpected, and dare I say… awkward. How did you get my number?

Me: I have my ways

Poppy: Caroline gave it to you, didn’t she?

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