7. Olive
7
OLIVE
I huffed as I pulled on my sweater. I hated today.
My calendar app had rudely reminded me of tonight’s event: Town Meeting, 8pm .
I’d been trying to ignore it ever since that guy—Stanley?—had showed up at my door. He had introduced himself as the mayor of Starlight Grove before telling me that the town had received a government grant for lighthouse restoration, and they would decide which company would get the job at an upcoming town meeting.
I’d told him I would just do the work myself, but he had hand-waved my suggestion. Apparently, I didn’t hold the proper qualifications to take on a historical restoration. Which, okay, might be true, but I still hated the idea of anyone entering my space. The restoration was focused on the lighthouse itself, but since my cottage was connected to it, I wouldn’t be able to avoid whoever they hired. They would invade my space, get it all dusty and messy, leave their scents lingering around, and probably want to talk to me.
I reached for my glass of water on the counter and accidentally knocked it over. Water splashed on the front of my sweater, and bits of glass littered the floor.
Perfect.
When I’d asked if I had to attend the town meeting, Stanley had sputtered before jumping into a never-ending lecture about community involvement and town pride. I didn’t care about any of that—I didn’t want to be involved in the community—but he’d also said if I didn’t attend, I wouldn’t have any input on which restoration team they chose. So now I had to drag myself out of the safety of my new home.
I quickly cleaned up the spilled water and bits of glass, promising myself I would sweep the floor more thoroughly when I got back. I locked the door behind me and looked around for Sir Cat. It was silly, but I wished he was here with me, giving me the courage to face the townspeople. I hadn’t seen him all day and hoped he was okay. I’d gotten unexpectedly attached to him.
I got on my bike, awkwardly holding a flashlight under my chin. The path from the lighthouse to town was unlit, and fall’s shorter days meant I would be biking in the dark. It seemed a little ridiculous that the town was focusing on lighthouse restoration when they couldn’t even be bothered to light this path. I switched the flashlight to my hand as I made my way into town, clenching my teeth at every dip and bump in the road. I wasn’t afraid of the dark exactly. I just didn’t like it.
I let out a sigh of relief as the town lights came into focus. I had to admit, it was pretty like this. Old-fashioned gas lamps lined Main Street, and the storefronts were lit up with string lights and decorations for the upcoming Harvest Festival, which just happened to be on my birthday.
Another day that would just come and go.
My brakes squealed as I parked in front of Town Hall, garnering curious glances from the people mingling outside. I broke out into a sweat as I locked my bike. I hated being perceived.
I wrapped my arms around myself and ducked my head as I entered the building. It wasn’t like anyone in town had been mean to me—quite the opposite—but I felt like I was being constantly watched. And in my experience, being perceived eventually led to being judged. How long would the kindness of the Starlight Grove townspeople last ?
The town hall meeting room was already packed at 8:02, so I slipped into an empty row of seats in the back.
Stanley called the meeting to order and launched into the evening’s agenda. Most of it had to do with preparations for the Harvest Festival, including arguments on whether they needed a hot chocolate stand and an apple cider stand (in my opinion, yes ). I focused on keeping my breathing steady, refusing to give into my panic at being surrounded by so many people. Now, an elderly woman named Mrs. Cassini was arguing passionately with a younger beta about what alternatives to grass should be allowed for lawns.
I’d known Starlight Grove was cute and charming from when I visited with my parents, but I hadn’t quite realized how involved everyone would be in town things. Growing up on the docks, there had always been a sense of support and camaraderie between the lobstermen. When something happened to one of our own, we rallied. But most days, we kept to ourselves. Spending our days out on the boat, checking traps. Maybe grabbing a quick bite to eat before heading home to shower, sleep, and do it all again. But in Starlight Grove, someone deciding to plant a clover lawn instead of grass was apparently momentous enough to merit a full-town discussion.
I jolted when Stanley banged his gavel. “It’s time for our final agenda item of the night. As many of you know, the historic Star Lighthouse has been an essential part of our town for over two hundred years. The lighthouse is a beacon of hope for all those weary souls lost at sea. In the words of the great American poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow: ‘Sail on, ye stately ships! And with your floating bridge the ocean span; be mine to guard this light from all eclipse, be yours to bring man nearer unto man!’”
Stanley ended the reading with his arms raised in the air, voice triumphant. The audience was silent besides some awkward throat-clearing.
The mayor rolled his eyes. “Does no one value poetry anymore?” With a sigh, he continued. “Starlight Grove has been given the prestigious honor of receiving the National Historic Lighthouse Restoration Grant for Historic Lighthouses on the Eastern Coast, or NHLRGHLEC for short. The grant pays for a restoration team to make repairs in the areas of electricity, plumbing, woodwork, and plasterwork to ensure this magnificent beacon of light remains standing for another two hundred years. But before we cast our votes to see who wins this project, let’s all give a warm welcome to Olive Autumn Harvest, our new lighthouse keeper!”
All eyes in the room followed Stanley’s outstretched arm to the back of the room.
Noooooo.
Death, please take me.
My cheeks burned and sweat trickled down my armpits as I prayed for someone, anyone , to wake me from this nightmare.
Movement towards the front of the room caught my eye, and I realized it was Easton. He was standing and waving wildly at me, a huge grin on his face. I wanted to shrink further down in my seat. Not only had I rejected him multiple times, I’d been so freaking rude when he came over with the omegas the other day. I didn’t understand why he looked so happy to see me. He should despise me for how I acted.
I despised myself sometimes.
Stanley cleared his throat. “Our fine city council members narrowed down the applicants to two businesses. The first is Legacy Corporation out of Briar’s Landing.” There was censure in Stanley’s voice as he spoke the name of the neighboring town. “The second is our very own Moonlight Restoration company, who apparently have the correct qualifications for this project even though they’re hoodlums with a penchant for TP-ing homes, egging cars, and stealing garden gnomes.”
My lips twitched in an almost smile, but then Easton stood again and waved at the crowd. “Allegedly,” he called out with a chipper smile.
Ohmygod noooo. Easton was on one of the teams? He looked completely unbothered by Stanley’s statement as he gave me a wink and sat back down.
I couldn’t let this happen. I already got too flustered around him, and my omega was way too interested. I couldn’t let myself get involved. The more time Easton spent around me, the more he would realize that I was dull and boring. Absolutely not the right one for someone bright and fun like him.
The Legacy Corporation team—composed of two older betas—did a quick presentation focused on their qualifications and how they would source their materials. They came across as a bit pretentious, slipping snide comments about Starlight Grove’s crumbling infrastructure into their presentation. Even so, I cast my vote for them—filling out the little paper form and dropping it in the collection bucket at the end of my empty row—before Easton even started his presentation.
Easton didn’t have anyone with him as he presented his proposal for the restoration, but apparently there were two other people on his team. He talked about how one of the guys, Finn, had grown up in the lighthouse because his grandfather was the former lighthouse keeper.
Now I felt bad for not voting for them. I chewed my lip, wondering if I should swap out my slips, but my anxiety won out. I was too overwhelmed by the idea of Easton being in my space for weeks on end to complete the extensive renovation. All I’d wanted was to move to a town where no one knew me. Being alone was the only way to avoid heartbreak, and I could see Easton breaking my heart way too easily.
There was a low murmur of conversation as everyone cast their votes. Carmen took all the slips of paper and tallied them up before handing the result to Stanley. A deep frown settled on his face. “People, must we do this every time? I’m convinced you’re colluding to do this on purpose.” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “It seems we have a tie.”
The room erupted in excited chatter as everyone peered around as if looking for something. I caught whispers of the name “Felix.”
“He’s outside, Stanley,” Carmen said, a wide grin on her face.
“Open the door, then,” Stanley said, looking utterly defeated as he waved his gavel towards the door at the back of the room.
This was all really weird.
I turned in my seat as someone opened the back door and in walked Sir Cat. The anxiety I’d carried all day at his absence eased but was quickly replaced with confusion. He was wearing a plaid bow tie and heading straight to the front of the room. His head swung towards me, and I could have sworn he winked.
“Bring out the cards!” Carmen said, clapping her hands.
A young kid—maybe ten or eleven—rushed out with two laminated cards that said Option A and Option B in bold letters.
“Thank you for being here, Felix,” Carmen said. “We are deciding between two companies for the lighthouse restoration project. The first option is Legacy Corporation, and the second is Moonlight Restoration.”
Sir Cat is choosing the restoration company?
I looked around, jaw dropped, to confirm this was unhinged , but no one seemed remotely confused. People watched attentively as he peered at the two cards.
Okaaay . I guessed Felix was deciding my fate. Maybe this wasn’t a bad thing. As sad as it was, Felix knew me better than anyone in town. I’d grown to love him, and he seemed to at least tolerate me.
His head turned, glowing eyes fixed on mine.
Not the alphas. Not the alphas. I tried to send the message to him telepathically. An expression came over him that could only be described as smug. He turned back to the cards and lifted a decisive paw up to Option B. Moonlight Restoration.
My heart pounded as betrayal washed through me. It was ridiculous to feel this way—Felix was a cat . He didn’t understand what was happening. But as he swaggered back down the aisle, I couldn’t help feeling that his actions were intentional. I scowled at his swishing tail as he disappeared through the door.
Stanley banged his gavel, finalizing the decision. Easton stood in his seat, his gaze landing on me, and I couldn’t handle it anymore. Couldn’t handle any more eyes on me. Couldn’t handle more judgement or rejection. My bitter scent broke through my deodorizer, and that finally pushed me to get out.
Felix was nowhere to be seen as I ran out of Town Hall. My hands were shaking as I unlocked my bike.
“Olive! ”
A slight whimper slipped through my lips as Easton bounded up to me. My omega wanted to crawl into his arms, and that was exactly why I needed to get away.
“Isn’t this exciting?” he asked, grabbing my bike’s handlebars to steady it as I stood up.
His massive body was crowding mine, my eyes level with his chest. His broad, muscular chest. God, I wanted to press my face into his button-down shirt and cover myself in his chocolate hazelnut scent. My omega was begging me to climb this alpha like a tree, to invite him into my nest and get his scent everywhere while he had his way with me.
I swallowed hard and breathed in and out of my mouth steadily to stop myself from bursting into tears. I was letting myself fall into a ridiculous fantasy because I was overwhelmed.
“I have to go,” I mumbled, grabbing my bike from Easton.