Page 12 of The Endowment Effect

“Oh, listen to you. You got here in record time. And look who’s stashing money in her pocketbook,” Ms. Pinkie scoffed.

“I knew you were up to no good. Nearly took out Erma’s mailbox rounding the street corner,” Willa Mae said, finding a place on the couch and getting comfortable. “So, what’s for dinner?”

“Roast beef, butter beans, mashed potatoes, and gravy.” Ms. Pinkie turned to Lucas. “Go on and get the TV trays from the hall closet and I’ll fix you a plate. Sweet tea okay?”

Lucas had been railroaded. Not an uncommon occurrence when amongst the geriatric crowd in Wayward and to a dysfunctional degree, heartwarming. Not having to remove his shirt was an added bonus. He made his way to the hall closet as instructed. Honestly, what else did he have to do on a Friday night?

“How’s that girlfriend of yours?” asked Willa Mae, making her way to the sofa.

He sighed inwardly. “If you’re referring to Penelope, she’s fine, thank you. Had some meetings in Atlanta and decided to spend the weekend with her sister.”

Which he had to admit was a relief, as she was becoming uncomfortably possessive and assuming far too much as it pertained to their relationship.

Hell, he didn’t even know they were in a relationship until she announced it while attending a party at the fire chief’s house last month.

The fire chief, Hollis Walker, being Penelope’s uncle, and the one person in town to whom Lucas owed the most, slapped him on the back with tears in his eyes, claiming it the best news he’d heard all day, if not year. Lucas didn’t have the heart to correct him. Especially with so many of the town’s people within earshot.

Hollis had been like a father to him, and between him and the entire populace of Wayward, that was more than plenty to be beholden to.

“She manage to pin you down yet? Put a ring on it?” Willa Mae asked as she held on to the back of the sofa, slowly settling into the cushions.

Lucas pushed aside the half dozen coats in the closet, rarely worn, if ever, due to the humid coastal climate, to fish out the bronzed metal TV trays.

“Now, Willa Mae, we’re far from making any commitments,” he assured.

“Does she know that?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. “Rumor has it she’s been attending the ladies auxiliary meetings, asking their advice on things like china patterns and wedding venues. If you ask me, she plans to steamroll you down the aisle. And I’m not talking about the grocery aisle, either. That woman has every intent of becoming your wife and this town’s mayoress.”

Leaning the trays against the wall, he shut the door, and carried them to the sofa, thinking through this new bit of information and choosing his words carefully. He didn’t want to hurt Penelope, just gingerly disentangle himself from her.

“Whomever chooses to wed Penelope will be a lucky man. I’m afraid that man will not be me.” He craned his neck toward the kitchen where Ms. Pinkie was plating their dinners. Once he was sure he was out of range of her hearing aids, he added with a lowered voice, “I would appreciate it if you would keep that to yourself until I’ve had a chance to speak with her personally.”

It was time to break this thing off with her, but first, he needed to let the Chief know they wouldn’t be tying knots any time soon. That conversation would be more difficult than the one with Penelope as the Chief had made it clear he had approved of the match. Everyone in town seemed to approve, that is except for Lucas. And the Pinkie Posse.

Willa Mae lowered her voice as well. “I won’t tell a soul, least of all the Mouth from the South,” she said, side-eyeing the doorway to the kitchen. “But mark my words, you weren’t meant to be with Penelope Walker, Mr. Mayor. Last thing you need is a woman whose life’s ambition is to look pretty dangling on that fine arm of yours, while assuming subtle authority over this town. You need a woman who makes her own way. One with some spark to her personality and a little bit of sass.”

“Oh, I don’t know, looks to me like I have plenty of ladies in my life who fit that bill already.”

He gave her one of his megawatt smiles. The one that earned him the title of Mayor as well as the hearts, both young and old, of Wayward.

That said, he was content to keep his constituents at somewhat of a distance. He didn’t need any additional complications.

Except for maybe tonight. Because… a man had to eat.

Lucas picked up one of the metal trays and clicked it into place as he set it in front of Willa Mae.

As far as romantic relationships went, he didn’t want a loosely defined relationship, let alone a committed one. He had the entire town of Wayward to tend to, and they had his complete focus and undying commitment. Anyone else to look after seemed more of a burden than a blessing.

The front screen door opened, and another head of gray hair peeked through with a weathered hand covering her eyes.

Cora Leigh Simmons, yet another member of Pinkie’s renowned group of degenerates, stepped inside, almost stumbling.

“Is it over? Is his shirt back on?”

And apparently, the only one with a conscience.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Pinkie said, entering the living room with two heaping plates. “And, yes, you missed it. He was doing shirtless pull-ups in the backyard less than twenty minutes ago.”

Lucas turned to Cora Leigh who, despite her earlier innocence, gave him a look as if imagining him pumping out reps.

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