Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Cole
“ S o good to see you, son.” The mayor’s smile was blindingly white, almost as white as his hair.
I shook his hand and gave him an easy smile.
“So I take it you’ve considered my offer?” He arched a brow. “To join my staff?”
Honestly, I hadn’t considered it. But I couldn’t tell him that, not right now at least.
“Thinking about it, sir,” I said firmly. “I’m working on going back to school and need to line some things up first. But I’m happy to stay on in a volunteer capacity.”
He nodded, clearly a bit put out that I hadn’t instantly jumped at the chance to work for him.
“I’m actually here on official business today,” I said. “Arlene from the library has really blossomed in her role as finance director of the festival. She and I are strategizing about partnerships and sponsors to reach out to.”
That lit his face right up. There was nothing politicians loved more than free money. “Of course, of course. That’s very prudent. You’re doing a great job, kid.” He was already losing interest now that I was talking about actual work. Mayor Lambert was a good enough guy, and he really enjoyed being mayor. But he didn’t seem to like all the nitty-gritty details, like paperwork, budgeting, and local ordinances, of the job. His administrative assistant, Marcus, did the lion’s share of the work and got no credit.
“Talk to Marcus. He’ll set you right up.”
With a nod, I headed to the open area where the admin desks were set up. Marcus was in his forties and had twin toddler boys at home. Naturally, he wore an air of pure exhaustion. He’d set me up with a login to the town records system last year and was content to let me do my own thing.
As I neared him, he gave me a nod and went back to his spreadsheets. So I grabbed an extra chair and opened my laptop.
City hall was halfway through the long process of digitizing. A lot of records were still in paper form, and since I didn’t want to rouse too much suspicion by poking around, it seemed best to set up shop and pretend to be working on festival financials.
I started with sponsors, vendors, and contacts from last year, thankful that Arlene and I had kept decent records. Though those searches yielded nothing. From there, it looked like I’d have to poke around in the file rooms.
Once I’d surreptitiously slipped into the large space, I worked to retrace my steps. Last spring, I’d pulled documents for previous town events and festivals, so I started there. But after hours of searching, I’d found no mention of Deimos, and I was getting more frustrated by the minute.
Was my brain playing tricks on me? I was beginning to think so. Where had I seen that name and why had it stuck out to me?
Needing a minute to clear my head, I put the box I’d finished looking through away and walked over to the new coffee shop to clear my head. The Caffeinated Moose belonged in a much trendier town than Lovewell, but that didn’t stop me from falling in love with the specialty coffee, sandwiches, and baked goods. Lila had gotten me hooked last year when I was recovering from surgery. She’d bring honey oat-milk lattes to me on occasion, like some kind of fancy coffee fairy. We’d been broken up for months by that point, but she still showed up, always worried about me.
I cringed when I thought of how I’d spoken to her then, how I’d disregarded her even before that point, and how I’d failed to appreciate her kindness and generosity for years.
As I sipped my latte, a sense of dread filled me. I’d been a shitty boyfriend to Lila. I was selfish and distracted and had never even considered her needs.
Fuck, that was a hard pill to swallow. Dr. Gleeson and I had discussed it, of course, but it wasn’t until I sat at a small table, with the stupidly delicious latte in my hand, that I realized how badly I’d fucked up.
Not because I still loved her, but because she was a wonderful person and I’d caused her so much pain.
Would I do the same to Willa? My gut clenched. I loved her. I knew it in my bones. And I wanted to be everything she needed and wanted. But was that even realistic, given my track record?
All this time I’d been sailing along in a bubble, deluding myself into thinking that I could take our accidental Vegas nuptials and turn them into a real and lasting marriage. But the coffee cup in my hand said otherwise. I’d already fucked over one lovely person, and the thought of hurting Willa was like a sucker punch.
“Cole.”
I was pretty deep into my shame spiral when the sound of my name hit me. Blinking back to reality, I scanned the shop. The man was only feet away when I finally saw him.
Dennis Huxley. I disliked him immensely.
His smile was fake, his tan was fake, and those teeth probably were too. They were far too sparkling to be anything but veneers.
“Dude, how do you even fit in that chair?” he asked, his tone pure condescension.
I glowered at him, squeezing my cup until it dented, startling me.
Dennis was a small, cruel man. Years ago, his father had been a state senator, and for as long as I’d known him, Dennis used this as an excuse to be a nightmare.
Thankfully, he’d gone to a private high school when his father went to Augusta. But for some reason that defied logic, he was back. His father was the classic politician. Fake tan, capped teeth, and empty promises. He wasn’t a bad guy. He had a really high opinion of himself. He’d taken Debbie out a few times, which had made my brothers furious. But from what I’d seen, he was mostly harmless.
His son, however, was a straight-up sociopath. He was thin, with light hair and beady eyes, and he seemed to think we had something in common. At least I assumed that was why he was always trying to draw me into a conversation.
“Good to see you in town. We should hang out sometime.”
I blinked a few times, swallowing back the words fuck off .
“I’m super busy,” I explained instead, holding up my left hand. “Newlywed.”
That didn’t deter him. “Oh, right.” Without an invitation, he pulled up a chair and sat opposite me. “How is my ex-girlfriend treating you?”
An alarm sounded in my brain as anger roiled in my stomach.
“Sorry,” I said, clearing my throat. “You must be mistaken. I’m married to Dr. Willa Savard.”
“Oh, I know.” His cocky smile made me want to punch his teeth out. “I know her really well.” By the way he emphasized the word really , he was clearly implying that they’d slept together.
That wasn’t possible. It didn’t make sense. Not at all. Willa and this bozo? No way.
“I was surprised to hear she’d married you,” he continued, dunking his tea bag aggressively into his mug. “Seems off-brand for her, but then I heard it was a drunk Vegas thing, and let’s face it, that’s definitely your brand.” He raised one eyebrow.
My eye twitched much more violently than when we had run into Jonathan. This wasn’t just disgust. It was revulsion.
I stood abruptly, almost knocking my chair over as I did. “I need to go.” If I didn’t get away from this asshole, I might knock his teeth out. He was messing with me, and implying that he’d fucked my wife was a great way to do it.
Breathe, man . He was baiting me and insulting me and my wife, and I didn’t have to take it. I wasn’t a violent guy. I was aggressive on the ice, but never off it. And my self-confidence had taken a nosedive today.
I made a beeline for the door, bumping my hip against a table in my haste. Shit, that hurt . My brain spun. I needed to get back to city hall. I wasn’t leaving until I found those files. But how many pieces of paper could I comb through on my own? There had to be a better way.
As I strode down Main Street, breathing in the brisk air, an idea struck. So I turned my ass around.
The administrative staff loved cookies. The Caffeinated Moose had several specialties, including molasses, blueberry cardamom, and maple cream. I bought several dozen—without bumping into Dennis again—and took them back to city hall. This impromptu cookie break was the perfect opportunity to chat about the festival and possible sponsors. Everyone had suggestions, and my notepad was filling up fast, but so far, I hadn’t gotten a single lead on Deimos.
Dennis Huxley was still in my head, so I took a chance.
Marcus had been busy showing me photos of his kids, so I figured he’d have my back. “Do you know Dennis Huxley?”
He snorted, and the way his face puckered said it all. He sure did.
“I ran into him at the coffee shop. Man, that guy is such a jerk. Do you know why he’s back in town? What does he even do for work?”
Marcus shrugged. “Beats me. He came back when his father moved back last year. Has a house up on Maplewood Lane, but last month, when he came in to scream at me about his parking tickets, I pulled the deed. Turns out his daddy bought that giant house for him.”
Interesting.
“His dad bought him a house? Wild.”
“It was through one of his companies. Charles and Dennis have registered like half a dozen corporations in Maine. He does everything that way. Helps avoid the tax man.” He raised one eyebrow, telling me what he really thought of these entitled jackasses.
The wheels in my head creaked, then started turning.
“Interesting. What do the companies do?”
“Own real estate mostly. A few properties up here and down downeast. It’s hard to find them. The way they set them up is shifty, for sure. The mayor made me do a deep dive a couple of years ago. Charles donated to his campaign through one of his companies. But for our federal election filings, I had to chase down the details. Took me forever. That guy is slippery.”
My stomach flipped. Charles Huxley, beloved politician who acted like he was God’s gift to Lovewell, had convoluted business entities? Fuck yes.
“This is gonna sound weird, but I’m working on reaching out to businesses to sponsor the festival. Would you mind sharing the info you found about him? I know he’s got deep pockets. Maybe he could help out.”
“Sure thing. They all have weird names. Greek, I think.” He scratched his head.
Fuck me . Greek names? Like Deimos? Could this actually be possible?
“I’ll dig out the file on my laptop later and send it to you.”
I gave him a nod. “Thanks, man. Appreciate it.”