Chapter 19
Frankie
The next day I had a bag of fish and chips for the Mayor’s office to deliver and was walking morosely down the hallway to deliver it.
“He’s in,” Jeremy said.
“Thanks.”
Did anyone from my former life even miss me? I couldn’t believe I had thought of myself as the star and Jillian as the support staff.
It was very clear charm was not going to save me now.
“Here you go, Mr. Mayor,” purred a breathy, throaty voice behind me.
That voice was no longer the subject of my occasional “What if?” romantic daydreams.
It now made my teeth ache and threatened to activate my gag reflex.
Of course Jilly was the only person in town who would employ Christabelle, so she’d spent the last two years mostly in a crab costume.
“Don’t bother trying to seduce him,” I hissed at Christabelle as she adjusted her low-cut top. “Cash is smarter than I was.”
She pressed her puffy lips together in irritation as he took the coffee without even glancing at her.
“Dismissed.”
“Damn right he’s smarter,” she spat back. “Look at you. Heir to a fortune and you’re living in some old lady’s spare bedroom.”
“My parents cut me off!”
“Yeah, because you’re a fucking pussy. You should have tried harder. Maybe then we’d be out on a yacht with your inheritance money.”
“My parents are still alive,” I said irritably. “And you are the last person I would ever want to be on a yacht with.”
“That’s not what you used to say,” Christabelle smirked. “You used to say you would LOVE if I moved to town. You used to WONDER what happened to us.”
I burned with shame at my stupidity. How could I ever have thought my youthful time with this basic petty halfwit was anything to look back fondly on?
“That was a mistake,” I said gloomily but she only sniffed and tossed her head.
“I don’t even want you anymore. But I’m getting that yacht. One way or the other.”
“Delivery,” I called out glumly to Cash as Christabelle flounced down the hall.
Cash looked up from his phone call and waved me in. When I put the paper bag containing the fish and chips down, he snapped his fingers at me and pointed to the desk.
I sighed.
Cash had really gotten a fucking big head from being the mayor. But I said nothing. After all, who in town would be on my side? I was still a pariah, and everyone still hated me for what I had done to Jillian.
Maybe I should have given it up, moved to the big city where no one knew me. But something stopped me every time.
And it was always the thought of Jillian that stopped me.
I just couldn’t leave her. Even though there was no hope for me. She had dropped me and never looked back. She didn’t want anything to do with me. But I was so desperate I would have snapped off a finger for five minutes with her.
I was desperate for any contact. Anything. Friendship, casual acquaintanceship. Even a head nod.
But I didn’t get anything.
The truth was that I had taken Jillian for granted and I would never regret anything else so much in my life.
I loved everything she had been and everything she was, and everything she could ever become.
And Cash was getting everything I wanted.
So I unloaded all the little containers and placed them in front of Cash—the tuna, the crispy fries with the mouth-watering homemade spicy-sweet sauce, the coleslaw, the piece of chocolate cake that was a little perk for the mayor.
He put a hand over the mouthpiece of the phone. “Agreed to the divorce yet, asswipe?”
“No,” I said. “I think there’s still some paperwork they have to do.”
“The paperwork is you, dickhead!” Cash snarled. “You’re the one dragging the divorce on for years so Jillian can’t get remarried!”
“Sorry,” I said. “I don’t want her to marry you. I haven’t given up hope on getting her back.”
“You’re lucky I don’t kick your ass right here. You’re nothing to her.”
“I still love her. And I don’t think you’re right for her.”
Cash snorted and rolled his eyes.
“Good thing no one cares what you have to say, because you’re an idiot. Get out of here,” he growled, going back to his conversation and ignoring me.
“It’s a wonderful plan,” Cash said into the phone as I crumpled up the delivery bag. “After all, some of these little businesses on Main Street don’t make very much money.”
My ears perked up as I put the straw in his fizzy raspberry limeade. From what I recalled, the businesses on Main Street actually did really well for their size.
I mean, it wasn’t big corporation money but still. . .
“Jobs?” Cash responded to some question the person on the other line had asked.
“Well, when that big hotel comes in, they can all get jobs there. Most of them, anyways. Yes, well. Keep me posted. I have an in with the most powerful business owner in town. If I can convince her to sell, the others will follow.”
“What big hotel?” I couldn’t help asking as I laid out the silverware. “I don’t think anyone here wants to give up their businesses for that.”
Cash only glanced up, his dark brows drawing together.
“I don’t recall asking for your opinion, Frankie. You’re here to deliver the food, nothing more.”
“Let some outside corporation in to control Ramshackle Bay? No one is going to agree to this plan,” I insisted.
Even though I was no longer the Mayor and everyone in town hated me, I still felt protective of the citizens of Ramshackle Bay.
Cash only snorted. “They’ll agree to the idea if I sell it. You couldn’t sell a life jacket to a drowning man. So definitely go try to get everyone to agree with you. Now get out of here. And don’t bother Jillian with this.”
I nodded my head and left, but some devil inside made me pause right outside his office. I knew Cash was up to something shady, I just didn’t know what.
His voice was so low I could barely hear what he was saying this time, but the words “eminent domain” were enough for me.
What the FUCK was he planning for this town?
I needed to TALK to Jillian for an extended period of time—tell her about what Cash had planned, because I knew she would be opposed to it.
She loved the café, and she’d never sell it to some big corporation trying to drive all the small businesses out of town!
But how should I do it when she loathed the very sight of me?
There was only one thing to do.
I had promised to give the Perk Up & Read to her, and ever since Christabelle had threatened to use my parents’ money to take it, I hadn’t been back. I was too afraid she’d be angry with me.
But now I had to go back.
It was the perfect time, too, 2 pm. Right after the lunch rush and right before everyone would be coming in for a last cup before she closed at 3:30.
I had been desperate to show her I was a changed man, that I wasn’t some immature idiot anymore, but now that the moment had come, my palms felt clammy and I wiped them anxiously on my board shorts.
What if she never believed me?