Page 49 of The Good Girl

“Planning a wedding and becoming the mayor of Silvercrest all in the same year, well, you are very busy, Miss Montgomery. I’m sure our readers would be interested to know, which one was more stressful?” a small woman with thick-rimmed glasses and bright pink lipstick asks as she scribbles on a notepad.

Wearily, I eye the recorder on the coffee table between us. I hate one-on-one interviews, but they were necessary in the line of work. “The elections were definitely a challenge, but I had all the right support behind me. And the same goes for the wedding, I’m lucky to be part of an organiz—I mean, family that takes care of its own. My mother has graciously taken care of any issues that have arisen. And my bridesmaids, my cousins Tabitha and Athena, have been very…diligent.”

It was true, my mother had secured my future with Tristan and helped me move up the ladder in the world of politics. The Society liked to have their fingers in all the pies, and so I was an asset, one they didn’t want to waste. I only had to get my hands dirty every now and again, but that was the price I paid for freedom. As for Attie and Tabitha, well they had pretty much taken over and planned the entire day, which I wasn’t exactly angry at. However, a phone call this morning asking about the hundred white doves had been a little unsettling. Tristan had only laughed when I asked if they were for hunting purposes, since half of this wedding stuff went right over my head.

“Do you have anything special planned for the bachelor and bachelorette parties?” Her eyes glint with excitement as I bite my tongue.

“Hunter Kingston has planned a getaway for us, a joint celebration if you will, rather than the traditional kind of bachelor/bachelorette party.” I resist the urge to shiver, knowing Hunter and Atlas, we were about to end up on an island in the middle of nowhere with nothing more than beer kegs, vodka and a survival kit. But at least Clay had agreed to join us, even if Poppy Grimaldi was still dragging her feet.

“How exciting!” Leaning forward, the interviewer, I think her name was Carol, places a hand over mine. “You are the youngest female mayor this town has ever had, and if your father was still with us, I’m sure he would be very proud of his daughter following in his footsteps.”

A soft scoff from the doorway interrupts the interview, and I see Tris standing there, his overalls covered in paint splatters like usual. After his graduation from Ackerman, he’d decided to split his time between his art studio and managing his parents’ companies. It was more of a 20/80 split, but it was enough to appease the other Council members.

My father had taken his retirement from the Mayoral Office badly, the loss of control making him spiral until he tried to kill my mother. She knew he would, and she was waiting for it. That’s why she was still here and he wasn’t.

“Apologies,” I say with a smile to Carol. I can’t resist making an inside joke as I explain, “my father wanted me to become a violinist.”

“Oh,” she says, looking between the two of us. “Are you a talented musician? My notes say that you are a trained ballet dancer?”

Nodding, I glare at Tristan when Carol isn’t looking. He always likes to come and watch me when we have guests. It’s like he crawls out of his art studio specifically to watch me squirm as he tests my patience. “I am a dancer, but I dance as an outlet, not professionally.”

Carol looks impressed, understandably so. I’ve spent my whole life working hard, and the last six years have been no different. “Well, you are an exceptionally talented young woman. A degree from Harvard, a doctorate from Stanford, a ballet dancer and a violinist? Do you have any other skills or hobbies we can be in awe of?”

“She can dig a mean hole,” Tristan murmurs as my mother enters the room, sashaying towards us in all her elegance. I swear if he makes one more comment, I’m not marrying him next week. And I’ll return the new leather restraints I just bought with his name embossed on them.

“He means gardening, she has quite a green finger,” my mother says calmly as she offers us an iced tea while Carol scrawls her notes. I flip Tristan off when she isn’t looking, and he blows me a kiss in response. Douchebag.

“Very impressive,” Carol comments. “As one of your constituents, I must say, I can’t wait to see what you have in store for Silvercrest. I feel like things around here are about to get very exciting in your capable hands.”

I laugh, catching Tristan’s eye and my mother’s smirk. “Oh, Carol, you have no idea.”

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