Page 18 of Fairground

“Don’t stroke his massive ego,” Colt warns from next to me. I glance over. The pile of pancakes we’d both had to share is now completely gone.

“Geesh, you still eat like you’re fresh out of prison.”

He bats my arm away and turns back to his eggs, hunching over the plate like he’s scared I’m going to take them away from him.

“Okay, so number two. You know everything about this town. The mayor is required to coordinate the harvest parade that kicks off the State Fair. You’ve done that before, so you know what to do to make it a big deal. You know what it takes to capture the essence of small town joy during autumn.”

“That’s true.”

“The mayor’s job is to handle everything for the state fair at the start of November. The planning committee has had a couple meetings, and I’ve been to them, but let me tell you—they’re a hot fucking mess. The women bicker nonstop, and the men?” she drops her voice so that Mrs. Mayberry and Bellview can’t hear us. “Clueless, except when it comes to setting up tents. Mrs. Mayberry isstressed.Do you hear her over there? I swear I’ve never heard her complain so much. They need someone who can get them to agree on a theme, set a direction, and keep everyone in line. They need a person who can bring people together.”

I smirk. “Well, I amuniversally adored.”

Colt snorts.

Regan rolls her eyes. “Right. Anyway, with me and Lawson helping on marketing and campaigning, we can win this thing. And with you as mayor, it’ll be great for the restaurant and brewery in town. Your face on posters all over the state will pull in out-of-towners. Think of it like another business venture for our family.”

“This place is already thriving.”

“Sure, but it’s mostly locals—usuallywhen you’re working. And let’s not forget how you keep giving away food for free.”

Colt shoots me a glare. “Yeah, cut that shit out, Cash.”

I throw my hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, okay! Geez. It’s mostly been for Smythe.”

“I don’t care who it’s for—we’re not a charity.”

“Fine.” I lean against the bar. “So, to summarize, your reasons for me running are: handsome looks, hot body, good for the family businesses, face plastered all over the state of NorthCarolina, beloved by all, and a general knack for getting people to agree to get shit done?”

Regan pushes off the bar and crosses her arms. “Basically.”

“You drive a hard bargain, little sis.”

“Okay, but here’s the clincher.” She leans forward, her voice dropping like she’s about to share the world’s best secret. “How much of afuck youwould it be to the last mayor if a Marshall took over? That guy was one of the biggest reasons Colt got locked up. It’d be the ultimate middle finger.”

I stop teasing and lean back to let that idea sink in. She’s not wrong. One thing about us Marshalls is we stick together. The mayor of Whitewood Creek messed with our family years ago, and we’ve been holding a grudge ever since. Him getting ousted for corruption was satisfying, sure, but Regan’s got a point—taking his old position and throwing the best state fair North Carolina’s ever seen underourname?

That’s the kind of poetic justice I could get behind.

The Bobbsey twins are starting to make a lot of sense. I don’t have much going on during molting season, and once the fair is over, the mayor’s role is mostly ceremonial. Campaigning, planning the fair, and then running the town that I’ve loved my whole life as an icon? That doesn’t sound half bad.

I slap the bar loudly, startling Mrs. Bellview who’s devouring a breakfast burrito at her table and lets out a loud yelp.

“Sorry, Mrs. Bellview!”

She waves me off with a warm smile. “Oh, no problem, Cash. It's nice to see you today.”

Colt grunts and shakes his head. “Beloved by all,” he mutters. “Except you don’t know jack about being a politician—or anything about local government.”

Regan grins. “We’ll get Troy to help. And we’ll play up the fact that you’re the governor of North Carolina’s little brother. People will eat it up and won't care that you're completely incompetent.”

I nod, my grin widening despite the major diss my little sister just delivered me.

“I like it. Let’s fucking do it.” Lowering my voice dramatically, I add, “Get me on the ballot, Regan. Let’s win this thing. Move over, big brother Troy—there’s a new, much better looking, politician in the family.”

Chapter 8: Rae

It feels like the whole town of Whitewood Creek is gathered outside the courthouse today, craning their necks and leaning on one another to hear what should be just a simple announcement: the two candidates who’ve been selected for the mayoral ballot.

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