Page 8 of Flake It Til You Make It

“I can do that,” Heath said, nodding.

“The mayor likes to flip the switch herself,” Taylor explained under his breath as they walked towards the middle of the stage, slightly behind the podium. “Gives her a rush of power, or so she says.”

“You ever interested in taking her job?” Heath asked, waving at where Mona stood.

“Being the mayor? Someday, maybe, but not now.” He wasn’t going to tell Heath that the real power in the town was working behind the scenes. That Mona was largely a figurehead.

“You’d be good at it,” Heath said and thankfully left it at that, as Mona approached the podium to a raucous wave of cheers.

He started waving and felt better when Heath joined in, seeming to get the hang of it.

No, he wouldn’t be making a run for it.

And no, Taylor wouldn’t be inviting him to his bed, either.

The reason why?

The shining faces gazing up at Mona, and the unbridled joy in them as she flipped the switch. There was a power in that, but not the kind of power that Heath probably assumed it was.

It wasn’t about the title. It was about understanding the true power of this town, the pulse of it that ran so steady and bright underneath every street and was the lifeblood of the festival.

The reason so many tourists came once and then returned every year, just the way that Taylor and his family had.

It was the power of happiness. Of nostalgia. Of hope and care and selflessness. And Taylor had learned, since he’d moved here four years ago, that he’d do anything inhispower to protect that and to nurture it.

Taylor let Murphy and Jem collect Heath at the end of the lighting ceremony, and he wasn’t sure where they’d be taking him, but it wasn’t with him, and that was all he cared about.

Polite deflections were only going to get him so far.

Taylor was heading out of Sugar Plum Park, weaving through the knots of people carrying cups of steaming hot cocoa and cider, holding brightly decorated sugar cookies in their mitten-covered hands when Mona caught up to him.

He saw Mason over at his table, talking to a handful of people about the new foundation, and Elias in the crowd, handing out flyers for the pet pics event for the shelter.

“You heading out?” she asked.

For someone pushing seventy, she moved fast.

Taylor shouldn’t be surprised by this, but he still was.

“Yep,” he said. Though he already knew he was too keyed up to go home to his quiet little house, on its brightly decorated street. He’d stop by Rudolph’s, grab a spot at the bar, and have a drink. The park was still full, and the after-party at The White Elephant would mean Rudolph’s would be fairly chill tonight.

“You didn’t go with Heath.” Mona sounded disappointed.

“The guy’s a movie star. What am I gonna do? Ask him to recommend me to the city council?” Taylor kept his voice light.

“You could have,” she said sternly.

He shrugged. “He’s nice. Handsome, too. But not my type.”

“Whatisyour type?” Mona asked, and Taylor knew he had to cut this right off, right now.

“Getting the city manager job. That’s my type,” Taylor said, layering in a joking undertone. “You’d better be careful, you’re gonna give Nick Morgan a run for his matchmaking money.”

“I just hate you’re always so alone,” Mona said, and there was truth in her eyes. Affection, too. She really cared about him. And the town too. She’d devoted fifteen years of her life to it. Well, maybe Taylor hadn’t had fifteen years to give, yet, but he cared, too.

“And you hate that there’s a handful of people on the city council who’ll look at my application and wish I had a family,” Taylor retorted lightly. “Wish I was older. Wish I wassettled.”

She smiled. “Yes, and that too.”

---