Page 46 of Recklessly in Love

I slide up to him and lean in, lowering my voice so only he can hear what I’m about to say. “You’d make a good one. You owned this room, baby. And later, I’m going to own that dick.” I reach around and squeeze his ass for effect.

“I’d say get a room, but we only have an hour for lunch,” Nate points out drolly from behind me, herding us toward the hallway. I smile up at him innocently, but before I can respond, Mia interjects.

“Thank you for handling that so well,” Mia says to Greg as we pass the last of the folks leaving. I don’t miss Mia watching Betty McDonald snatch three cookies from the table before scampering out. Mia shakes her head. “Gran hated that bitch, and I’m starting to see why.”

My eyebrows jump. “Dorothy Lewis, the sweetest and most patient woman to ever grace this earth, hated someone? Wow. Betty McDonald must be a bigger pain in the ass than I realized.”

Nate grimaces. “Unfortunately, Alpine Ridge isn’t short on gossipy, controlling busybodies. She was the first disruption, but I guarantee she won’t be the last.”

I shrug lightly. “Honestly, I’m just surprised there was someone Gran couldn’t melt. But I think Betty speaking up turned the tide. Before she said anything, everyone seemed really …” I tap my lips, trying to think of the word.

“Unsure,” Rae offers. “They don’t know what to think at this point.” She pauses. “They were waiting for someone to speak up and lead them one way or another.”

“I wish it were someone other than Betty McDonald. Even if we managed to convince them otherwise, if she keeps that up outside this room where we can’t refute her, she’s bound to sway them back,” Mia grumbles.

Rae smiles patiently and shakes her head as we sit down at a table Mia set up in another room with our lunch. “Oh, honey, don’t you worry. I didn’t mean Batty Betty. I meant Greg.”

Surprise flashes across Greg’s face, stopping him with a half-filled plate in hand. “Me? They can’t possibly look to me as a leader. I’ve only lived here a few years.”

Rae shrugs as she loads up her own plate with a sandwich and chips. “I think they might. You’ve given yourself a lot of positive visibility lately between the winter festival and New Year’s Eve. You reminded them that you built someplace for them to come together. And those who have come to you for help over the years will likely vouch for you as this all plays out. I think you’re in just about the best position of all of us to make them see sense.”

Greg blows out what I think is a nervous breath. I look at him appraisingly. Hoping he’s up for it. Because Rae is right, people are sheep. Better one of us takes the reins in leading them than someone like Batty Betty. I snag a pre-packed chicken salad and a bag of chips and sit beside Greg.

“While I agree that Greg is a great person to lead this charge,” Nate interjects from across the table, speaking to Rae. “Why not you? You’ve lived here the longest.”

Rae’s eyes go wide as saucers, and she tips her head back and laughs. “I have, but that means I’ve got history with this town and its people. Unfortunately, to them, I’ll always be Chet’s little girl who was just as much trouble as her daddy.” She shakes her head. “Besides, I’m no leader. But you, Greg? You’re a natural.”

The tips of Greg’s ears turn pink as he eats, and he is pointedly staying silent.

“Well, here’s hoping for an even better turnout this afternoon. And maybe another Betty McDonald or two to give my man room to shine,” I tease, nudging Greg with my elbow.

Greg glances at me skeptically, then gives Nate a long-suffering look. Both Nate and Mia bust up laughing. Mia lifts her styrofoam cup of coffee.

“Here’s to round two with the old busybodies of Alpine Ridge,” she teases.

I hoped for a better turnout, and boy, do we get it. The afternoon meeting is standing room only, with nearly three hundred people crammed into the space. Like word has gotten around about all the questions asked at the first session, the questions in the afternoon session build on them, coming fast and furious, mostly about timelines and money.

When will incorporation be complete? How soon can we get trash service? How high will taxes go? We answer most of the queries, though not always to the asker’s satisfaction. But the fact that almost every question assumes the incorporation is going forward makes me want to run a victory lap around the town.

Even more interestingly, almost everyone votes when asked, and nearly all for mayor as well.

* * *

The final session on Sunday is full but not quite as packed. The discussion flows more smoothly and less contentiously than yesterday, with more fundamental questions about what it means to incorporate and what will be expected of them through the process. I can see that Greg is worried, presumably because it means that people are talking about the incorporation with each other. And that it might not all be positive. I try to reassure him with my presence and a few subtle touches that their engagement is a good sign. The vote, once again, goes for mayor.

Greg concludes the meeting, and people rise from their seats, talking in small clusters and grabbing what’s left of the cookies and coffee.

“I like how not even one of them asked what a town manager is,” Mia says quietly.

I snort.

“I doubt anyone wanted to look stupid by asking,” Rae comments in a low voice.

“So they all voted for a mayor to save face?” Nate asks, screwing his lips to the side.

“It’s as stupid and plausible as it sounds,” I murmur. Greg snickers. I shoot him a look. “We all agreed you should lead this charge, remember? What are you waiting for? Go mingle and win over the doubters.” I shove him jokingly toward the crowds.

He swoops in and kisses me. “Yes, ma’am,” he replies, trotting off to do what I suggested like the good boy he is. I giggle to myself at the fantasies that thought brings to mind.

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