Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
DK
I’d gotten here early to see Luna. She’s scheduled to be on The Bayside Brief—a local news program—followed by Diablo.
We’ve been talking every night this week. After our days are done, I settle into bed and call. Lights out, her soft voice on my pillow. Sometimes that’s enough to sleep. Other times, I still need something to drag me over the line. It’s frustrating when my mind won’t let go.
But those phone dates are the highlight of my days.
I know she won’t eat raisins because they look like bugs.
She takes extra avocado on just about everything.
She finds red wine intimidating. She loves shoes and owns more than twenty pairs.
She rarely loses her temper… but when she does, it comes in hot.
Little details that fill in the picture of the woman I’m falling hard for.
Voices sound out in the hall. I recognize hers just by the rapid beat of my pulse.
Luna appears in the doorway. She looks like hot, sexy power.
Six-inch heels. Marine blue suit—a color that works for the cameras and conveys trust. But I’m not thinking like a strategist when my gaze tracks her round hips and lush thighs.
I’m fucking jealous of that v-neck top hugging her breasts so intimately, pushing up just a hint of soft cleavage.
Appropriate for the average viewer, wrecking for me.
Her hair is slicked back in a professional bun, but she keeps it from being too formal with a single swoop curling playfully along her cheek.
Her face is powdered for the camera. It’s more makeup than she usually wears, but with a face like that, they could have added a clown nose, and it wouldn’t detract from her beauty one bit.
“Steve will come get you in five,” the production assistant says, leaving her at the door.
“Thank you.” Her gaze slides to me as she steps deeper into the room when it’s just us. “Hi.”
“Hi.” I keep staring. “Where’s Anika?”
“At the campaign office. I thought her time was better spent there. Diablo?”
“On his way.” I move closer, since we rarely get this much time alone. “Nervous?”
“Yes.” She smooths down her suit, taking a slow breath. “I just pray I won’t have lipstick on my teeth or stumble over my answers.”
The outside world gets her flinchless self-assurance. I get that up-close private peek at what she doesn’t show.
“Your teeth are on point,” I assure her. “And I’ve seen you in action with the press. You’re not going to stumble. Even if you do, you’ll recover with a humorous comeback and keep it going. Just be yourself, Luna. You can’t miss with that.”
“Oooh… I see you.” She aims two fingers at her eyes. “Sneaky sabotage. Trying to confidence-bomb me so I go in front of the cameras feeling good.”
“You’re onto my diabolical plan.”
She laughs quietly. “Thanks for the boost.”
“Always.”
Emotion brews in her eyes. Then her fingers reach out, trailing softly across my knuckles. “Two more days,” she whispers.
“Too long.”
“I know.”
“Rayne?” The floor manager pokes his head in, and we immediately draw apart. “You’re up.”
“Break a leg, Luna,” I say for her ears only.
She gives me a quick smile before turning to follow him. Then she’s gone, leaving behind her warm floral scent and the soft remnant of her touch.
Diablo breezes in soon after. We grab a seat on the couch in front of the monitor, and I open my laptop to take notes.
“Did you see Rayne?” he asks.
“Briefly.”
“How was she?”
“I’m sure there were some nerves,” I say, giving him a clinical observation. “It’s her first live television appearance. But I expect she’ll overcome them and do well.”
“Let’s hope not too well.” He nudges my shoulder with a grin.
I return a tight smile and direct my eyes at the screen.
The Bayside Brief logo flashes, then the host appears. Kane Wagner. White-capped teeth and coiffed blond hair. He runs through his opening before the camera pans to include Luna in the frame.
“Today, mayoral candidate Rayne Webber joins us on The Brief.”
“Thank you for having me, Kane.”
I lean forward, studying her under the studio lights.
She sits across from him, posture straight but relaxed, hands loosely clasped on the table.
“Welcome, Mayoral Candidate Webber,” he says.
“Rayne, please.”
Good call, I note. Down-to-earth. Relatable.
“Rayne,” the host repeats. “Now that the festival is over, will you be moving into your campaign office?”
“Yes, on Monday. I welcome voters to pop in any time. For me, campaigning doesn’t happen on the debate stage. It happens where the people are. That’s just one of the ways the mayor and I differ.”
“What the hell?” Diablo lurches forward in his seat.
“Gabriel,” I reply evenly. “Don’t let her rile you. She’s doing her job. You’ll get to do yours next.”
He sits back against the leather cushion, arms crossed.
“With all due respect, isn’t going from managing tourism to entering the political arena quite a jump?” Kane asks.
“No,” she says smoothly. “For years now, I’ve been public-facing on the issues that matter.
While our current mayor is revamping his expansion plan—trying to make it more palatable—my vision has never wavered from two things.
One, a robust local economy that supports our residents and business owners.
And two, sustainable growth that brings new opportunities to Bayside without harming our waterfront. ”
Diablo curses under his breath while I make notes like she was any opponent.
Delivery.
Composure.
Message discipline.
She’s strong in all three. Knows where to take her shots and which sound bites voters will eat up. On top of that, she isn’t over-polished or overly rehearsed. She’s authentic, continuing to speak about tying economic growth to community identity and putting substance behind her words.
“I’m sure you’ve heard concerns from your critics that being unmarried and without children prevents you from truly understanding family needs,” Kane says, pointedly.
I spot the irritation on her face—the tightening of her mouth and pinch of her brow. She doesn’t smile or try to disguise it. I sense that’s a personal choice over strategy.
“Frankly, I don’t understand the criticism. Married men with children have been running our country for decades, and marginalized families, in particular, aren’t doing better. In fact, they’re doing worse.
“Mayor Diablo’s administration hasn’t funded a single childcare program despite the increasing demand. His family can afford for one parent to stay home. That’s not the reality for most families.
“I don’t have to be married or be a mother to recognize the inequity. The mayor’s traditional bias lacks awareness—and disproportionately affects women, who, I might add, make up fifty-eight percent of the electorate.”
“She basically just called me an outdated chauvinist,” Diablo grumbles.
Yeah, she did.
As the segment continues, Luna speaks on diversity and why representation matters. How she grew up wishing she saw more women in leadership. Being raised by a single dad. Her vitiligo diagnosis and how she struggled before coming to embrace it and herself as she is.
Her stories are warm and personal. It feels like she’s chatting with you in your living room. That’s quite a skill.
As the interview wraps, the camera pans in on Luna. My fingers pause on the keyboard. My eyes trace the curve of her mouth—the way her full lips tilt at both corners, the soft lines bracketing them.
“Mayor Diablo,” the floor manager says, snapping the spell. “Makeup in ten.”
I pull my eyes from the screen, the image of her smile burned into my brain, and force myself back into role. I check out social media, with Diablo leaning over, reading the comments on the screen.
When you think you’re running the town…but she just schooled you live
Diablo’s face when Rayne dropped the facts
Me watching the single, childless candidate run circles around the mayor
Out-of-Touch Diablo cares about his kids. Just not ours.
And one post includes a distracted boyfriend meme.
Boyfriend looking over his shoulder: “Diablo”
Girlfriend beside him: “Bayside families needing childcare”
Woman he’s staring at: “Waterfront luxury development”
Gabriel shoots to his feet. “I can’t believe this.”
I can. Luna crushed it. The following hashtags are trending.
#MakeitRayne
#OutofTouchDiablo
#DiabloDisrupted
“Just means we have to come back strong,” I say, running through key messaging points and pressing him about childcare the way Kane will.
“When I took office,” he replies, defensively, “we had more urgent issues, like infrastructure.”
“Let’s avoid making it sound like childcare wasn’t a priority,” I remind him. “Supporting all families is important, then pivot to how you’ll do that. And,” I add, “When you get tense, your smile looks like you’re gritting your teeth. Viewers will notice.”
“Jesus Christ. I know how to smile.”
“Keep it in mind just the same.”
He huffs, but I know he’ll take my advice. He’s nothing if not committed to winning.
Diablo just saw what everyone else did. Rayne Webber isn’t just running for mayor anymore.
Today, she looked like the one to beat.