Page 25 of The Main Event

Jax looked as if I was trying to entice him to put his head into a guillotine. Ultimately, he nodded, though. “Fine.” He caught up with me. “I don’t want to end up headless on your battlefield, though.”

I looked back at the painting and grinned. “Then maybe don’t argue with me so much.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

I TOOK HIM TO SALEM COMMON FIRST. IT WASright next door, so he should be familiar with the property. I couldn’t assume anything with this guy, though.

“So, this is one of the hubs,” I said, gesturing toward two food trucks and an open field.

“If this is one of the hubs, we’re in trouble.”

I made a face. “It’s not our peak season yet. These are the two food trucks that are pretty much always here.”

“Doughnuts and cider.”

“Yes. Doughnuts are a big deal here. I really like the cake ones.”

He sent me an odd look. “Do you want me to buy you a doughnut or something?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I’m trying to monitor my calories right now. I’m a little wide through the hips because I’ve been eating out too much lately.”

I couldn’t be certain because he was mumbling, but I was almost positive he said, “your hips look pretty good to me.” It gave me pause, but I opted not to comment on it. “I need you to imagine what this place is going to look like in a month,” I insisted. “It’s going to be bustling with activity. That side of the fence there.” I pointed toward the east side of the park. “That will be lined with port-a-potties.”

Jax looked positively horrified. “Well, that’s cheery.”

I had to stifle a laugh. “It’s not so bad. Trust me. You want the port-a-potties. There’s a lot of drinking that happens in October and people need a place to go. You don’t want them getting desperate.”

Now Jax looked horrified for a different reason. “I really didn’t need to know that.”

I laughed despite myself and led him to the corner of the sidewalk. “That’s the Salem Witch Museum. Have you ever been inside?”

“No. Should I go?”

“Do you like museums?”

“If I say yes, you’re going to call me a geek.”

“Probably.”

“Well, I don’t care. I happen to love a good museum.”

“Then go over to the Peabody Essex Museum,” I replied. “This is not actually a museum.”

His brow furrowed. “Then what is it?”

“There’s an auditorium inside where people sit on the most uncomfortable stools imaginable. Then, above their heads, theyhave wax figures set up in different scenes from the witch trials. The wax figures are … very odd.”

“Why is it called a museum?”

I shrugged. “You would have to ask them. I’m desperate to be put in charge of things in this town for just a week. I would have it shipshape in no time. It’s not a museum, though. At night they have lights that change the color of the building. It’s eerie and cool, and people love it.”

“So, they do some things correctly.”

“Yes.”

“Interesting. Is that all you wanted to show me? Because I still think that painting is inappropriate.”

“Oh, we’re nowhere near done.” I hooked my arm through his without thinking. It was something I always did with Levi. I regretted it as soon as I did it—he had muscles under that ridiculously stuffy shirt, I could feel them—but I didn’t pull away. I refused to let him have power over me. “Come on.”

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