Page 38 of The Mayor and the Mystery Man

Vernita was my professional ride or die. We came together as a fluke. When I decided to officially run for office, I needed an experienced campaign manager who’d help me unseat the corrupt current mayor. Over coffee at Caroline’s, I interviewed an experienced, Ivy League educated consultant who came highly recommended. He turned out to be a pompous ass who repeatedly informed me that mayoral races were beneath his usual work, but he’d make an exception.

Having lunch in the booth behind us happened to be a woman who’d been a speechwriter years ago but left the industry to raise her two kids. She was considering getting back into the game and took our chance meeting as a sign. People told me I was crazy to hire a speechwriter who hadn’t worked in a decade to lead my campaign. My gut told me otherwise, and my gut was never wrong.

After a decade of working together, Vernita and I knew each other inside and out. We could predict how the other would react to new ideas and situations. I knew the volumes of opinion behind the slightest facial expression. So when Vernita came into my office on this Tuesday afternoon wearing an expression others would call poker-faced, but I recognized as concerned, my stomach dropped.

“What is it?” I stood up from my desk.

“Have you not seen Rita’s latest video?” She entered my office and shut the door.

“I have a budget meeting in a few.”

“Do Ari and Lucy not show you anything from social media? It’s been making the rounds.” She pulled out her phone and queued up a video.

“Lucy is busy with her studies. She’s not into social media stuff.”

“She’s thirteen and has a phone. I guarantee she’s into social media.”

“And Ari is busy with…video games.” I rolled my eyes. Deirdre and I had multiple arguments about letting him have a gaming system, which she ultimately won.

Vernita leaned her phone against my penholder. On screen was a cute video of Rita and her wife reminding everyone to get their flu shots. The two women lovingly play-fought about Rita being nervous about getting the shot, their young kids nestled in their laps.

“Okay, I can tell people to get their flu shots. I’ll have the surgeon general of New York make a cameo in my video.” She and I had met at a conference and then later at a secret poker game where she beat me to the tune of five hundred bucks.

“It’s not over. Keep watching.” Vernita gritted her teeth and watched me watch the video.

I didn’t know how much cute lesbian banter I could take until I finally got what Vernita wanted me to see.

The video cut to Rita walking by the closed-off entrance of Renegade Park, construction and orange tape behind her.

“Getting a flu shot is about preparation so we can grow strong!” She cooed into her daughter’s face, who smiled wide back at her.

“But mommy, how can Sourwood grow if we’re not allowing people to come here?” She gave her mom an exaggerated frown.

“I know, sweetie. Our current mayor is making it very difficult for new families like ours to join our wonderful community.”

“He wants us to be all alone? I don’t want to be the only girl in my class.” Her lower lip trembled exactly on cue. Damn, this kid was good.

“I don’t either.” Rita turned to the camera. “Because of Leo McCaslin’s Runaway Park—”

“Renegade Park,” I muttered at the screen.

“—we are threatening to stagnate Sourwood’s growth. Our children could grow up in empty classrooms, teachers losing their jobs, store owners going out of business.”

“What?” I jumped out of my seat and looked at Vernita as if she should be calling balls and strikes on this bullshit. “That is ludicrous! People move into and out of Sourwood all the time.”

“We could fall behind in diversity and innovation. If our population dwindles, we could be annexed by a bigger town, wiped off the map.” Rita’s lips curved downward into an exaggerated frown. I had to be watching a parody commercial forSaturday Night Live. “It’s time to fight for our future. I’m Rita Buchanan, and I want to see Sourwood flourish.”

I tossed the phone back to Vernita. I needed to take a bath after watching that. I paced in my office. “Nobody takes that seriously, right? They think we’re going to turn into a ghost town because we build one or two fewer housing developments?”

Sweat trickled at the back of my neck. Vernita and I shared a look. She didn’t need to answer me. We’d been around politics long enough to know the golden rule. Never overestimate the intelligence of your constituents.

“Her family put her up to this,” I said.

“I know.” Vernita watched me from her seat, staying calm. The wheels were always turning in her head.

I gripped the back of my chair, leaning into it, hoping it could absorb my stress. “I’ve played nice with Buchanan real estate for years, but they’re spoiled children. All they want is more. They’ll build, overpopulate, and be out of here while we clean up the mess.”

“I agree with everything you’re saying, Leo. But it doesn’t sound captivating. It’s not viral or a sound bite.”

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