Page 3 of Someone to Tempt
Her words pierce the veil of numbness covering me like a shroud. The same one I retreated to as a kid when things got too rough in our house. Shutting down my emotions and disassociating is hardwired into my system, serving me well in a variety of situations. Not this one, unfortunately.
I meet her gaze across the table. "I'm running unopposed.”
The undertone of steel in her laugh reminds me she’s more than the president of Skylark’s local knitting club. Gloria is not someone to trifle with.
“Honey, if you think someone isn't coming for you after that setup, you need more than mentoring from me to start your political career. Hop off the starry-eyed trust train and open yours to what's really happening here."
My mouth does this weird open-and-shut thing several times, like I'm a fish on dry land gasping for air.
“I have aplan,” I tell her, like that makes a bit of difference. “I’m going to spend one elected term as Skylark’s mayor then run for state senate. I'll be thirty-five when I'm elected, and I'll serve a four-year term in the Colorado legislature and then think about a congressional seat, which should coincide with Congressman Allen’s retirement plans. That seat has always been held by someone from Skylark.” I force a smile. “I want to be the next woman to hold it. To follow in your footsteps serving this town.”
"As you know,” she begins with a steady voice. “I started by filling my late husband's seat when he was diagnosed with ALS. Matthew Allen was elected because Reggie Moore had to shut down his campaign after the scandal broke. Hard to run on a platform of family values after…” Her voice trails off.
My stomach clenches. “The video of him and my mom leaked.” As if the affair wasn’t bad enough, the video revealed the former mayor’s penchant forStar Warscosplay.
"I'll never hear the pew-pew of an interstellar gun without picturing the two of them,” she says with a shake of her head.
“Which is why I asked for your help.” When Homer, Reggie’s brother, became mayor after the scandal, the younger Moore served the town tirelessly and with no scandals attached to his name. But now Homer is gone, and things are different for me. I have a past in this town, even if it isn’t one I created. “I don't want to be associated with my mom’s legacy or her affair with former Mayor Moore.”
Mom hasn't been back to Colorado for over a decade, but her reputation as a fun-loving free spirit lives on. Only her version of fun left me and my brother without care or food half the time and made enemies of married women in every town she blew through.
“Skylark can't be the place where fun goes to die, Iris.” Gloria steeples her fingers on the polished cherry table. “I also cannot back a candidate who has a reputation for killing community spirit. Do you know why Skylark’s leadership first started actively investing in the town’s image?”
I do. As a way to distract the town from his brother's scandal with my mother fourteen years ago, newly appointed Mayor Homer Moore began instituting prescribed events to bolster community spirit and build a reputation for wholesome small-town fun.
In the last decade, we've gone from hosting the usual seasonal festivals and an occasional juried art show, to at least one event a month funded by the town for the purpose of bringing a smile to the faces of residents young and old. I’m not a fan of forced fun, but I’ve attended most of the events, at least in passing, because of my position. Thanks to social media and a bajillion online lists ranking small-town life, plus the fascination with romantic movies centered around the very same thing, Skylark has grown in popularity. Our reputation and designation as one of the happiest towns in the country is a source of pride for many residents. But others, like me, have festival fatigue.
“Not every event brings in enough revenue to offset the costs associated with them. Plus, sometimes they prevent us from supporting the people who live here in a meaningful way. That's all I'm trying to do. Isn’t that what good politicians do? We take care of our constituents."
She inclines her head to study me. "You're a smart girl. I didn't expect you to show such Pollyanna tendencies."
"I'm not?—"
"This isn't Camelot, Iris.” She closes her eyes for a minute. “Politics is as much about impressions as intention. You have to get elected before you can do the work, and you aren't going to get elected in a town like Skylark if everyone thinks you're the grim reaper of fun."
"I'm fun,” I insist, but the words come out like a snarl.
She cracks a real smile. "Oh yes, that tone will convince people. Figure it out, Iris, and then we'll talk. Is the life of a career politician in the public eyetrulywhat you want?"
I frown and force myself not to argue. “Of course, it's what I want.”
Okay, maybe that hasn’t always been the case. But once the members of the town council appointed me interim mayor, I realized this was how I could bothdogood and show that Iamgood. Prove to everyone in town that I’m not my mother, who still subscribes to the belief that sex, drugs, and rock and roll are the only kind of fun worth having.
Mom was like a holdover groupie from the decade of free love. Only instead of collecting famous notches on her belt, my mother collected married notches.
"Iamfun," I insist. "And if I need to stay sunup to sundown at every event this town sponsors to prove it, I will."
She lets out what I can only describe as a disappointed sigh, confusing me all the more.
"Isn't that what you want from me?”
"I want you to do something foryou. Something that lights you up and takes you out of your comfort zone."
Her blue eyes bore into me like she’s imparting some great wisdom, but for the life of me I have zero clue as to what lights me up.
I think about my book club’s bucket list challenge. We’re meeting tonight, and I need to be ready to tell them what I'm going to do. I haven't been able to come up with anything that would rival our friend Sadie's choice of a challenge. How do I compete with her losing her virginity to a former NFL star?
My friends would tell me it’s not a competition, but…my brain doesn’t work that way. I thought about training for an ultramarathon, which isn’t nearly as interesting as sex, but itwouldshowcase my strength and perseverance to the people in town. We’re in Colorado, and the freaky fit outdoorsy types like that kind of crap. But it's not exactly fun, and now it feels like fun is mandatory.
