Page 38 of Fake-Off with Fate
Ashlyn smiles coyly. “Yes, she will. But if you want me to act like yourrealgirlfriend, I should probably do this …” Standing on her tiptoes, she gives me the briefest and sweetest kiss, right on the mouth.
She did not have to do that, and I’m touched she’s taking her role so seriously. I try to find the words to express my gratitude, but I’m struck mute. Reaching out, I take Ashlyn’s free hand and walk toward the sign for pretzel sandwiches.
Ashlyn Thompkins is an unexpected person in my life, and if I’m not careful, I could lose my heart to her.
CHAPTER 19
ASHLYN
What in theworld was I thinking kissing Jamie yesterday? The truth is, I wasn’t thinking. I got swept away in the romance of being gifted a beautiful bunch of flowers. I thought I could handle a fake boyfriend, but it turns out I’m going to have to remind myself the whole thing is just for show. The problem is, whenever I remember the softness of Jamie’s lips and the minty heat of his breath, I turn to mush. Which is not how a fake girlfriend should be feeling.
I like Jamie Hayes a lot. He’s sweet, he cares about others, and he truly is a team player. It’s no wonder he was chosen to be the captain of the Ice Breakers. But even so, he’s not for me. As much as I joke about having to move to Utah to find a man, I am not going to date a guy who doesn’t even live in the same city as I do. There are enough obstacles in life without adding that one.
I hurriedly brush my hair and tie it back in a ponytail. Then I put on a jean skirt and pair it with a rust-colored cashmere sweater that sets off the highlights in my hair. I may not look professional like a mayor should, but as far as the town knows, I’m just the mayor’s daughter and nothing else. Except that I’m conducting an emergency meeting, instead of the man they voted into office.Gah, I need to come up with a credible story, fast!
On the drive to Town Hall, my head is bursting trying to figure out how to tell everyone what’s going on. It’s going to be one of those pivotal moments where one minute, life is normal and good, and the next, everyone’s apple cart gets toppled like a Real Housewife flipping over a dinner table. Side note: I was hired to arrange said housewife’s closet for her and she’s just as terrifying in person as she is on television.
Phillip is once again standing in the parking lot in the middle of my dad’s space. I don’t even pretend to slow down this time. I just speed up and give him the scare of his life.
He jumps to the sidewalk before shouting, “Why did you do that?”
Getting out of my car, I storm past him with determination. “I have a meeting to conduct, Phillip.”
“Where is your dad? Why are you even here?” He has to run to keep up with me, and I’m suddenly tempted to stick a foot out and trip him.
I still haven’t decided what to tell people about my father’s absence, so instead of answering his question, I walk even faster. As soon as I’m inside the building, I find the meeting room and scurry inside.
Even though I’m early, I’m not the first one here. I see Mike Mitchell and Elaine Fishman who, according to the list Marcy texted me, are both members of the town council. There are seven members—six council people and the mayor.
Elaine Fishman hurries over to me and asks, “Ashlyn, what are you doing home?” It’s surprising how many times I’ve heard this question. You’d think people would expect me to visit once in a while. I mean, I did grow up here.
“Hi, Mrs. Fishman.” I tell her, “I’m home to see my folks. You know there’s nothing quite like fall in the Pacific Northwest.”
“You should have come for Maple Fest then, dear. Surely you’re not staying long enough for that?”
Being that Maple Fest is nearly a month away, I am not staying. “You know how it is, Mrs. Fishman. I travel in between jobs, so I don’t miss work.”
She pats my hand. “I understand, dear. Now where’s your father? I can’t help but wonder why he needed to bring us all in on a Sunday.” She’s still wearing her church clothes, which means she probably left a roast in the oven to come here.
“He’s um, rather …” Jamie saves me by walking in. He’s with two other men who I assume are his coach and the Ice Breakers’ owner, Troy Hart. “Mrs. Fishman, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go talk to someone.”
“Yes, well, I suppose, but …”
I rush over to Jamie. “Thanks for coming.” Tingles of awareness fill my nervous system as I catch a whiff of his clove-scented cologne. I just kissed this man yesterday, and so help me, I’d like to do it again.
Jamie gestures toward the friendly looking middle-aged man on his right and introduces him, “Ashlyn, this is my coach, Dale Hauser.” Then he turns to his other side and adds, “This is Troy Hart.”
I shake both men’s hands before telling them, “I appreciate your coming. I’m guessing Jamie has filled you in on what’s happened.”
Troy is the first to speak. “I’m more than a little concerned about this. I have a bill of sale for the arena, and it includes the twelve acres surrounding it.”
“I know, Mr. Hart. A lot of businesses are affected.”
“Are all the owners coming today?” Dale wants to know.
I shake my head. “I wanted to keep this small so we could come up with a preliminary plan before getting everyone riled up.”
“Oh, they’re going to get riled,” Troy says. “How could they not, with their livelihoods at stake?”
