Page 40 of Fall Into Me

“Go on, Calista.” He nodded, and it was hard to take him seriously because, honestly, he looked about seventeen.

“Changing anything about this town will ruin the very things that make it so great.”

A small chorus of agreement hummed from behind me, making me stand up taller.

“This town has a history. Generationally owned businesses. Character. It’s the way it is because the people here care for it. If you make it into some money grab, that will all change.” I was trying not to sound desperate. But I was.

“And that’s why there is an assessment period,” the mayor said smoothly, his gaze darting to Fane. “As Mr. Mackenzie behind you can attest.”

I whirled on Fane. “You’ve met this cheese ball already?” I hissed, attempting discretion but very clearly failing based on the gasps that rippled around the room.

Fane just stared down at me, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. “Briefly.”

“When?”

“When I got into town.”

“That’s right,” Mayor Brown interjected, his tone now noticeably frostier. “And as a town, we’ve agreed to entertain the proposal.”

“Who’s ‘we’?” I shot back. “Because I live in this town, and I didn’t agree?”

The mayor ignored me. “In any case,” he continued, “the only person at this point who can decide whether or not the project will move forward—something that would be very good for this town, mind you—is your husband.”

I scoffed. “He isnotmy husband.”

God. Fucking. Dammit.

You could’ve heard a pin drop.

“Yet!” I blurted, my voice way too loud. Mayor Beige jolted in surprise. “He’s not my husband…yet.”

Well, this was fucking awkward. “Congratulations…in advance.”

“So, that’s it?” I turned, scanning the room. Familiar faces stared back at me—neighbors, regulars at Sunshine Café, people I’d shared countless conversations with. Yet now, they avoided my gaze, their attention fixed on their hands or the scuffed floorboards.

The mayor cleared his throat, slipping back into his polished, dismissive tone. “If you don’t have a productive comment to contribute, I suggest you take a seat.”

“Mr. Mackenzie,” the mayor added, “Perhaps you can encourage your wife to—”

The most aggressive snort I’d ever heard flew out of Fane’s mouth and cut him off.

Fane’s posture shifted, his presence radiating something sharp and dangerous. “What, exactly, do you think I should encourage her to do?” His tone was cold and razor-edged, making the room fall silent.

I glanced back, catching sight of the dark-haired man again. His hand lifted in a mocking wave, his smirk slipping into something darker. The ease with which he reeled it back sent an unwelcome chill down my spine. Like by his will alone, he could make Fane snap.

This was going nowhere.

“Whatever,” I muttered, grabbing Fane’s arm. When he didn’t budge, I yanked harder. He leveled the mayor with one last scalding look before following me toward the exit.

As we passed the dark-haired man, he crooned, “See you soon, boss.”

Fane’s jaw twitched, his entire body coiled tight. For a second, I thought he might stop, turn back, and say something. Instead, he glanced down at me, his gaze still unreadable, then all but lifted me off my feet and hauled me out the door.

Once outside, because I was ignoring him—of course—all I could do was scream silently in my head, slap his hands away and flip him a double dose of the bird.

14

Calista

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