17. Tangled Webs
Finn
Iruffle through the stack of papers before me, calculating the numbers over and over and over again as if that will magically prompt them to change. The city budget has dropped 10% since last quarter, and Havenwood is mere margins away from going under financially.
I cast my fatigued gaze past the budget and to my desk before me, where my calendar stares back. Another stark reminder that I’m running out of time, only 30 days until Halloween. I only have 30 days to find a solution, 30 days to save my home and all the amazing people in it. 30 days and I let Havenwood, and my parents, down. Admittedly, my encounter with Courtney in the bookshop earlier today helped to relieve some of the stress that had built up within me. But finally confirming her feelings for me is only a topical solution to a much deeper issue. If I lose Havenwood then I’ll have ruined my chances with Courtney for nothing, I can’t lose them both.
An incessant buzzing in my pocket clears the fog of somber thoughts long enough for me to retrieve my cell phone from my jacket pocket. I answer the call without bothering to check the caller ID.
“Hello.” I bark with more grit in my voice than expected. I’ve never been good at hiding my emotions but they become nearly impossible to disguise under strenuous circumstances.
“Hello, sunshine.” Milo chirps. He’s in one of his overly bright moods, the kind where he can convince you that the world is made up of rainbows and cotton candy. The kind of mood that I most certainly am not in.
“Yes, Milo?” I love my brother but I don’t have time for his cheery disposition when I can actively feel the weight of Havenwood crushing my vertebrae.
“Lighten up, would you? I have good news.” I readjust in my chair, the promise of good news perking up my ears. “I explained our situation to the state this morning and they said that Martha’s remains are practically ours, so long as we can get a determinate DNA match between her and Courtney by the due date.”
My hand flies to my goatee, my fingers anxiously rubbing at the dark hair on my chin. Milo doesn’t verbalize what comes next but he doesn’t have to, I know I will have to be the one to convince Courtney to take this DNA test. The security and stability of Havenwood is dangling right in front of me, packaged within a tanned brunette goddess who wears adorable fuzzy pajamas.
“This is the part where you celebrate.” Milo reminds me, some of his initial excitement having already dwindled at my reaction or lack thereof.
“Great news. Thanks, Milo.” I keep my voice flat, hoping my brother won’t pick up on my grim nature.
“Finn,” Milo’s voice softens on the other end of the line, proving my acting skills need major improvements. “This is a huge step; if we can get solid proof that she’s an ancestor and has the right to sign those remains over to us, Salem won’t be able to do a damn thing about it. We’re going to save Havenwood.” His words compel my eyes to flick back to the severely lacking budget.
The plan we had hatched months ago was genius, foolproof even. A plan that had begun to crack the instant a vibrant, beautiful Los Angelean woman with a passion for writing and a pussy that tasted like fine wine arrived in Havenwood and carved herself out a space in my heart.
I’m running out of time, I have to make decisions. Either I tell Courtney the entire truth (including the fact that I may have loosened the pipe under her kitchen sink before she moved in as a ploy to get into her house) and pray that she might forgive me for lying to her, hope that she’d be willing to continue our relationship and beg her to sign over the remains. Or I chicken out, convince her to sign the papers, and continue to let our relationship grow from a bed of deception, all the while hoping that none of my lies come to light.
I know which option is certainly easier. If I tell Courtney the truth not only do I risk her not signing the papers and ending Havenwood, I risk losing her. I can’t bear the thought of Courtney hating me, not after I’d fallen so deeply for her. But I also can’t fathom the thought of lying to her anymore.
“You really are falling for her,” Milo translates my silence as an answer. “Look, man, she’ll still like you after you confess. But only AFTER we get DNA confirmation and she signs those documents. If Salem gets their grubby, tourist-hogging hands on those remains, Havenwood is good as dead.” I sigh. As I release the breath I’m holding, hot tears pricking at my eyes.
“You don’t need to remind me of that, Milo. I’m not the perfect mayor but for the first time in my life it’s difficult to put Havenwood’s needs before my own.”
“I know you’ll do what’s right,” Milo reassures me before we end our call.
I sit in silence for a beat after we’ve said our goodbye, every emotion under the sun stewing in my chest. Anger, guilt, frustration, sadness, pain. They all come to a crescendo as my trembling hands reach out and snatch the budget off my desk, taking the calendar with it as I chuck the stack across the room. A formidable growl rips from my throat as I assault the stationary. I watch the papers seesaw in the air before landing delicately on the floor in front of my desk, mocking me with their unbothered slow descent as my chest heaves in annoyance. My little temper tantrum did little in the way of relieving any of my trepidation.
I plant my palms on my desk in an attempt to mitigate the shaking that refuses to cease. My thoughts fly by my brain at 60 miles a minute, searching for a way, any way to fix what I’ve broken. Instead, each passing thought hurls a colorful insult at me, insulting my honor for lying, reminding me that I’ve let my parents down, questioning why I thought I’d be good enough to be mayor, questioning why I thought I’d be good enough for Courtney. It’s all your fault.
Just when they’ve become excruciatingly loud, a soft knock sounds at my office door, silencing them in an instant like magic.
Courtney
For the second time since moving to Havenwood, I’m nervous to pick out my outfit. Both times I found myself very concerned with what the mayor would think of my clothes, whether or not he would like them. I have a strange suspicion that he really liked my pajamas but that doesn’t narrow down much unless fuzzy pink pants are his thing.
I hastily decide on a blue sweater dress that shows a flirtatious amount of cleavage. The dress is similar in color to the thong Finn had tarnished and I’m hoping something about this color is good luck for me.
Now that I’ve decided I’m ready for a relationship with Finn, it’s time to start playing the game. The game that men and women have played for centuries, a game of courting and a game of desire. My competitive nature will be an asset and with Finn as my prize, nothing can stop me. Not Carter, not Starr, not even myself.
Finn had mentioned in passing that the mayoral office is located in the town square and I know I’d seen the aging building weeks ago when I’d arrived in Havenwood but I’m not sure of the route there. Regardless I walk at a brisk, determined pace, making sure to take the time to appreciate the smell of wet pavement from this morning’s drizzle.
My eyes track the vibrant orange and yellow leaves sticking to the contrasting dark road as I go. Those are the little things I had started to love about Havenwood. It feels like every time the sun rose and set over me, I became more and more enamored by the charming town and its little treasures. I know I’d never be able to pass a colonial-style house again and not think of my historic rental or appreciate the oranges of a sunset and not relate them to autumn in New England. I’d never again be able to enjoy a Southern California pool party without comparing the cool water’s color to a certain mayor’s eyes. But I don’t want to think about going back, not now.
City hall comes into view in all its derelict glory; the directory sign out front informs me that Havenwood’s fire department, police department, and mayor’s office are all located inside the large building. I tug open the stubborn, rickety front doors and am immediately greeted by the main hallway. A small, wooden desk sits directly in front of the doors with a familiar woman attending it. I recognize her face as one I’ve seen once or twice before, at the coffee shop and on the street as I ran my morning jog. The receptionist perks up upon noticing me, straightening her posture.
“Hi there, Courtney.” She raises her eyebrows in surprise, exposing her bright blue eye shadow that had previously been concealed by her folded eyelids.
“Hey, Cathleen? Right?” I pull deep from within my memory to remember the woman’s name. I’d heard Elsie greet her at the coffee house and I’m almost confident I remembered it correctly. Her bashful head tilt confirms my suspicion.
“Where you headed, sweet pea?” Cathleen asks, tucking a few papers into a maroon envelope before crossing her hands over the scratched-up desktop, giving me her undivided attention.
“I was hoping you could direct me to the mayor’s office?” I regret asking as soon as the words leave my mouth. Cathleen is barely able to control her facial expressions as her jaw smacks her desk. She quickly picks it up but doesn’t bother reigning in any of her other expressions.
“Take that staircase up; his office is the entire second floor. ” She points behind her with her neon pink nails. “Have fun!” Cathleen’s sing-song words cause a small blush to creep onto my cheeks and extend to the tips of my ears. I force myself to swallow my embarrassment, reminding myself that I should only be embarrassed if I don’t want people to know how I feel about Finn. Now that I’m sure about how I feel, everyone should know, right?
I offer the receptionist a quick “thank you” and ascend the stairs, desperate to escape the now awkward environment. Each step I take up the carpeted stairs amplifies the sound of my heart beating in my ears. Why am I so nervous? I had accepted my feelings for Finn but admitting those feelings to him, playing the game, that’s a whole new ballpark. Now I’m entering an arena of possibilities and danger, I can’t control this part of the process, I can’t control how Finn will react. Most of all, I’m anxious because I feel like me again. I am not guarding or putting up a hard front anymore; I’m allowing myself to be Courtney in all her hopeless romantic glory. And I know it will hurt ten times more to be rejected as myself.
I reach the second story landing before I feel ready. I take a steadying breath, reading the shiny gold plaque on the door that officially reads, Mayor Finn Abernathy. I drag my fingers over the inscribed letters, something about seeing his name written so formally makes me want to laugh, nothing about the charming, affable man is as formal as his nameplate suggests. That thought sends a calming wave over my nervous system; I’m not confessing my deep, dark feelings to Mayor Abernathy; I’m just going to talk to Finn. That’s all.
With a confident preceding knock, I turn the handle to his officer door, pushing it inwards as I enter the space.
I’m greeted by papers littering the floor and a desk calendar lying haphazardly. I look up from the mess to the desk across the sea of papers. There stands Finn. His raven black hair looks slightly tussled, and his cell phone clutched in his long fingers—the same ones that I definitely wasn’t fantasizing about earlier. He lifts his gaze from the mess on the ground, his icy eyes widening upon seeing me, sending a fleury of butterflies ripping through my stomach.
“Courtney.” Finn runs his free hand through his dark strands, attempting to domesticate them. I smile at him timidly, tucking a caramel strand behind my ear.
“H-hi,” he stutters out his greeting, looking me over with indecision evident on his handsome face. Finn has never seen me as bashful as I am in this moment, not even when his face was buried deep in my thighs and I assume this is the reason for his strange reaction. During my time in Havenwood, I refused to let myself be anything but strong and stoic for my own protection, but now, seeing this softer side of me for the first time, it’s evident he is determining how to react.
“Hi,” I greet back softly, filling in the comfortable silence. I’m admittedly confused about the mess of papers before us but more than anything I’m just happy to see Finn. Despite seeing him less than six hours ago, I feel like I’m now seeing him through a new lens. Although we’d greeted each other half a dozen times before this time it felt like the start of something new.
Or perhaps the start of the end.