Chapter 11
“The Hope Galais on the twenty-seventh. You”re giving the keynote speech there, and then there”s the Historical Society lecture lunch series where you”ll be introducing the history of the early settlers to western New York.”
Amber rested her chin on her hand and gazed out the window as the sound of Neal’s voice droned on. Monday morning meetings were such a snooze fest. She had started the day on the right foot, even getting to the office at eight on the dot for once. When Theo got in a while later, she had his schedule printed and ready for him, and had pulled the meeting notes he’d requested. She’d restrained herself and only left him one little Post-it note with a Twinkie on his desk.
Re: kale: in case of overdose, eat Twinkie immediately. Repeat as necessary.
She hadn’t heard any wrappers opening, but he also hadn’t yelled at her yet this morning. Things were going well.
She peeked out the window and saw a familiar tail disappear behind the planter in front of the bank again. She had walked to the village twice over the weekend to look for Puddin’, but the little dog was nowhere to be found. Amber left food and water just in case she came back. The poor dog must be hungry.
“You haven’t attended a Rotary Club meeting since the winter, Theo, and they”re starting to complain. Are you taking notes?” Neal asked sharply.
Amber jumped and looked away from the window. “Yup, got it,” she said, taking another note.
Check calendar for more boring events.
She really was trying to pay attention, but Neal’s idea for community-building events seemed to be geared for the nursing home crowd. She recrossed her legs and idly admired the strap on her newest Poshmark find, black patent leather T-strap Mary Jane heels she’d paired with adorable black cigarette pants and a fitted white blouse from Yves Saint Laurent, the coveted 1966 Rive Gauche collection.
Years ago, she had been browsing all her favorite vintage boutiques when she stopped dead in her tracks outside the shop’s window. She had begged the owner to put it on layaway for her and had skimped and saved to buy it. Yet another instance of ramen and bananas coming in clutch, but every time she wore the blouse, she felt like a movie star. Totally worth it.
“There”s a municipal bond investment seminar at the end of the month at the community center. You can present the benefits and potential returns of investing in that,” Neal said. Theo nodded, adjusting his glasses while taking his own notes.
Straight and narrow Mayor Theo Clairmont was firmly back in place this morning. His perfectly pressed navy suit and light blue tie were a stark contrast to the hot and sweaty man she had locked eyes with on Saturday morning.
Or flashed on Friday.
Her cheeks heated thinking about that, and she quickly looked out the window again as Neal picked up steam. He seemed bent upon making Theo the most boring, pretentious mayor in the world. No wonder Beckerman was rising in the polls. Anything other than a municipality meeting had to be a better way to connect with the community.
But what did she know? She was just there to take notes. She looked out the window for Puddin’ again.
“Are we boring you, Ms. Hart?” Theo asked with one eyebrow raised.
Ignore. Ignore it. Think about the bonus check, she said to herself, but the eyebrow did it, just like every time.
“Funny you brought up the word boring. I have some ideas,” she said brightly. ”I was looking at Beckerman’s events calendar for the summer, and he has much more family-friendly activities lined up. Maybe you could add some fun events to your calendar.”
Charlotte nodded encouragingly. “That’s a good point.” Amber smiled at her gratefully and Charlotte gave her a subtle wink.
Neal snorted. “Family-friendly activities? What is this, a carnival? We’re running a serious campaign here, not a circus.”
Theo sat back and crossed his arms. “Go on. I’m listening.”
Amber felt the same excitement building that she felt whenever a design came to her, and she flipped open her notebook to review her notes from the week before. “It’s about being visible in the community, showing people that you’re interested in the same things they are. You used to play baseball, right? What if you threw out the first pitch at a Northfield Little League game? It’s a great photo op, and?—”
Neal cut her off with a wave of his hand. “Why would he want to?” Neal asked sharply. ”That”s not where the money is.”
Amber looked him in the eye. ”That”s where the majority of the younger voters are, and they care about what”s happening in the community too.”
“The people that run the community have the money, and they”re at the municipality meetings,” Neal shot back.
”I think it”s worth a conversation about changing up our approach,” Todd said carefully in the tense silence. “We could plan for you to have a good mix of traditional events and more casual community-based events on your summer schedule.”
“Casual? Our campaign strategy is to turn the mayor into a weekend baseball dad? This is politics, not a popularity contest at the PTA meeting,” Neal said.
“Your polling numbers are suggesting it’s a popularity contest that you’re losing,” Amber shot back. She looked at Theo directly. “This isn”t your father”s campaign anymore. Even your election signs need a modern twist: ‘honoring tradition, leading with integrity’ is great, but the younger generation of voters want to be seen and heard about things that matter to their generation, not their parents’ and grandparents’.
“That photo with my niece was all over social media. People need to see an accessible side of the mayor instead of seeing you hobnobbing with rich, old guys on the golf course.” Amber knew she’d offended Theo as soon as she said it, but it was too late. Theo’s eyes went cool, and his jaw tightened, but it was true. Neal was out of touch if he thought Theo could win an election with the same old strategy they had used for Theo’s grandpa’s time in office, for crying out loud.
”Why are you even in this meeting?” Neal said. “Shouldn’t you be getting us coffee?”
No, he did not just say that. Amber was saved from a response that most likely would have resulted in her being fired by Theo.
”Neal,” Theo barked. “Uncalled for.”
“I apologize,” Neal said, looking anything but sorry. “We’re not running a campaign on whimsy and feel-good moments. We need serious strategies for serious voters. Not...whatever this is,” he waved his hang vaguely at Amber. The message was clear as a bell.
Her face blazed, and she bit down on her lip hard in order to not tell Neal where he could put that coffee. So what if he didn’t like her ideas? She was mediocre at most things, but she knew people. She knew Theo’s campaign needed new life breathed into it or he was going to lose.
“Thank you for your input, Amber,” Theo said, tight-lipped and stiff, in the tense silence. “Neal is right. We need to concentrate on our key demographic. These distractions aren’t going to win an election. Let’s move on to discussing the budget.”
For the rest of the meeting, Amber tried not to take it personally that Theo had essentially sided with Creepy Neal. She knew the pressure he was under, and that new ideas were a risk.
She knew all that, but it still stung to be dismissed.
“He’s not goingto be happy about this,” Todd murmured, leaning over Amber’s desk to look at her computer on Friday morning. “He despises social media.”
Amber grinned. “Who doesn’t have social profiles in this day and age? It’s a missed opportunity.” She clicked on the last tab and voilà—Mayor Theo Clairmont had his own accounts across all the major social channels.
Northfield had its own social accounts for the town of course, but Theo needed his own profiles to work for him. It was basic public relations, and now her boss had one too. With an updated slogan.
Theo Clairmont
Serving historic Northfield, NY. A New Chapter for Northfield.
Reach out, share your vision, and let’s make it happen together.
#MayorClairmont #NorthfieldNY #NorthfieldForward
She was quite proud of her little project. Since the disastrous meeting on Monday, she had spent the week being the perfect personal assistant despite Theo giving her suspicious looks every day as if he were waiting for her to get herself fired.
Oh, she still left him cheeky Post-its, and she couldn’t stop herself from sneaking in to organize his files and tidy up his desk, but she had been laying low for the most part.
Until this morning when she had been scrolling her socials and saw Philip Beckerman’s post. It was a photo of him and his kids and a big, goofy white poodle right before he threw the first pitch at a Northfield Little League baseball game. The post had almost three thousand likes and it hadn’t even been twenty-four hours.
That was her idea.
Granted, it wasn’t something that hadn’t been done by hundreds of mayors of small towns before, but she knew what a great event that would have been for the mayor to do. Plus, Theo would have enjoyed it, she knew it. The man needed some fun in his life.
Instead, he was going to boring historical lunches that Neal had set up. What a waste.
So, on a whim, she decided to bring Theo into the twenty-first century.
“I hear the boss now. Well, it’s been nice knowing you,” Todd winked and ducked out of the doorway just as Theo greeted Diane on his way in. He’d had a breakfast speaking engagement at a local university earlier, and she hadn’t seen him yet today.
“Coward,” she called after him. “Good morning, boss,” she chirped when Theo stopped in her office doorway.
He held up two yellow Post-its. “Lily Hart requests a permit for goat yoga on the village green?” One eyebrow rose in skepticism.
“It’s all the rage,” she said innocently.
“Squirrel bridges and goat yoga. How very forward thinking of our town.”
She handed him another Post-it note and watched as he read it. Pippa Shelton had called earlier to let Theo know that she heard he would be at the theater tonight for the annual Clairmont scholarship announcement, and would Theo like to share her family’s box seats. It was a smart move. Not quite asking him out but paving the way to spend the evening together.
She didn’t quite like the way that made her feel, which was beyond silly. “Theater date, huh? You are a wild one. Hope this one has a better ending than the last date you went on,” she teased.
“It’s not a date,” Theo said curtly. His phone buzzed, and he looked down. “Congrats on joining the dark side,” he read. “Can’t wait to see all the boring shit you post.”
He looked up at Amber with a question in his eyes, and she wilted a tiny bit. She hadn’t quite expected Theo to find out this soon. “What’s Ford talking about?”
For a minute, Theo looked dark and menacing looming in the doorway and her belly did that slow, sinuous tug that reminded her that she wouldn’t mind seeing the mayor looming over her bed exactly like that, all darkly handsome and stern. Who knew she had a kink for tall, dark, and angry?
“Mm,” she murmured, still caught up in her fantasy. She’d make him unbutton his proper white collar and tug his tie loose. Maybe he would use it to bind her hands to her bedpost...
“Amber!” Her fantasy fell apart.
“What?” she said irritably. How long had it been since she’d had a good fantasy and, of course, the man himself was ruining it.
“What is my brother talking about? I don’t have any social media, right? Right?”
“Well,” she hedged, “you did, technically. The town has handles, but it’s a huge oversight that you don’t have your own, so I fixed it.” She smiled brilliantly.
Theo scowled.
Dammit. Would Marilyn never work on this man?
“Delete them,” he snapped. “I don’t even know how to use a hashtag, much less post things that the public can see and comment on.”
“Todd agrees with me,” she said to his back.
“I did not,” Todd yelled from down the hall. “I told her you’d be mad.”
Amber got up and hurried into Theo’s office, where he was searching for something.
“I promise I’ll handle the accounts. You won’t have to use a single hashtag or post anything,” she soothed. “It’s going to make a big difference, you know. Beckerman’s all over social media at these community events. This is a prime opportunity.”
Theo sat down abruptly in his chair and pushed his hand through his hair, leaving it disheveled, the way she liked it. Settle down, girl. Angry sex isn’t an option. Although...she forced herself to stop that train of thought. There would be no sex with her boss. Period. Full stop. Unless he took that tie off and...
Theo pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. “I just had the longest two hours of my life listening to Mrs. Nielson passionately detail the significance of every brick in the old town hall. Please just...delete them.”
He sounded so tired that Amber took pity on him. He really did work too hard. He was always the last one to leave at night, and she knew he worked at home too. He needed something other than work in his life.
“I’ll take care of it,” she said. Right after he was reelected, she added silently. “I’m going to lunch. Need anything while I’m out?”
“No, thank you,” he said. He shuffled the few papers left on his desk, frowning. “Have you seen the budget proposal file? I could have sworn I left it right here.”
She walked around him to the file cabinet. “I filed them for you.” She set it in front of him with a flourish.
Theo’s brows snapped together. “I told you not to touch anything on my desk,” he growled.
Geez. His angry voice really did it for her. She shook off a shiver and widened her eyes innocently. “I just did a little filing,” she soothed. “Heading to lunch. Gotta run,” she called back and practically ran past Diane, who was having tuna today.
Diane’s lips twitched, and Amber took a precious moment to wink at her. “That’s his ‘I love you’ voice, right?”
“Amber!” he barked, and she pushed the door open to the humid summer air and blessed silence.
Someone was cranky.
As hot as it was, she’d rather find a nice, cool bench in the shade to eat her Twinkie and drink her Diet Coke without Theo’s judgy eyes on her nutritional choices.
She headed down Main Street and stopped to chat with Mrs. Nally at the bookstore about the romance book display in the windows and complimented her lovely purple sun visor. Amber pointed to her own short purple sundress. ”Twins!”
Farther down Main Street, Sheriff Rush Callahan was writing a ticket for a car parked in a handicap spot when she walked by the diner. She made sure to give him an extra dazzling smile and was met with a curt nod. That was a specimen of a man. The uniform, the badge, the muscles. It all worked for Sheriff Callahan. He had the whole broody, mysterious vibe going for him.
She found a nice spot under a maple tree to eat and took her lunch out of her bag when a pitiful mewing sound stopped her in her tracks. ”Puddin’?” she said cautiously. “Come here, girl.”
A small face with deceptively pitiful eyes poked her head around the planter in front of the Northfield National Bank. ”Puddin’, it is you. Come here, baby. What are you doing out here?”
Puddin’ had seen better days. When she lived with Mrs. Bovenzi, Puddin’ had been a plump little thing, all dolled up with bows and a rhinestone collar. The old girl looked like she’d fallen on some hard times now.
Amber picked up the dog. She was skinny now and a little smelly too, but Puddin’ was an actress, if nothing else. She laid her head on Amber”s shoulder and looked up at her with big, sad eyes.
”Where”s your owner, Puddin’?” she soothed, patting the dog’s back gingerly. She knew full well where Mrs. Bovenzi’s son was, probably home drinking like usual. She had tangled with the distasteful man once already, but how could she let Puddin’ go back to him?
Puddin’ made a pitiful noise, between a mewl and a howl, and it was a done deal. She was such a sucker for an underdog. ”All right, fine. You can come with me, but you have to be on your best behavior. I mean it. I’m already on thin ice at work. Theo will fire me for sure if he finds you.”
She carefully set Puddin’ in her oversized bag and made her way awkwardly back to the office. Thankfully, Diane wasn’t at her desk, and Amber all but ran to her office and closed the door.
She set Puddin’ on the floor. ”You can”t make any noise. Just lie down and sleep.” Puddin’ looked up at her and slowly blinked. ”I know, I know. I”m gonna take care of you. I”m not gonna send you back to the bad man, but there”s another bad man next door.” She paused. “Well, he”s not quite as bad, but he signs my paychecks, and I really need to keep it that way.”
Amber dropped to her knees and spread her cashmere sweater—a vintage find she had searched for months for—in the corner behind her desk where no one could easily see her. “Don”t you dare pee on this.”
Puddin’ was fully trained, but Mrs. Bovenzi liked to say she was temperamental. She did whatever she wanted, when she wanted, in other words. “I saved up for a month for this sweater. You better tell me if you have to go out.”
“Amber, have you seen?—?”
Amber sat up guilty, hoping he hadn’t gotten an eyeful of her ass in the short dress, and tried to look casual. “Seen what?” Shit. That hadn’t lasted long. She sucked at subterfuge.
“What is that?” he said carefully.
“That”s Puddin’.”
“What,” he asked very carefully, “the hell kind of name is Pudding?” A muscle in his jaw began to tick and Amber figured sheer bravado was her best bet. She was 90 percent sure she was getting fired today anyway, but she wasn’t going out without a fight.
“Puddin’,” she corrected. “No, it”s not my dog. I can”t have dogs where I live, but Puddin’ is your new strategy for winning the election.”
“Tell me you did not get me a dog?” he asked coldly.
”Everyone knows a dog increases your likability by a million.”
Theo’s eyes narrowed. “You just made that up.”
“Maybe not a million, but it’s a lot.” She scrambled to her feet and found her phone. “See? Beckerman’s already caught on.” She held out the phone to the picture of Beckerman and his dog. “Puddin’ is going to be your campaign buddy. Who doesn”t love this face? She loves people.”
Right on cue, Puddin’s doggy lips trembled in a smile, and she let out a little pouty yip. The dog belonged in Hollywood. Amber picked her up and stepped closer to Theo. In her heels, she was almost level with his collar.
”You”ve got to be kidding me,” Theo said. He sniffed. “What’s that smell?”
“She’s been mistreated. I used to walk her for Mrs. Bovenzi, but when she died, her son took her. He’s drunk and he forgets to feed her. She’s in bad shape.”
“Then you take her home.” Theo crossed his arms, and Puddin’ took the opportunity to lean over and rest her head on his chest.
”No, can”t do that,” she said. “No pets allowed.”
“Then take it to the pound.”
”Can”t do that either. Did you know I worked there one summer?”
His eyes narrowed. “Let me guess, you were fired from there too.”
She shrugged. “I organized a picket line outside. They weren’t very understanding.”
She tipped her head back to look up into his eyes, and for once she didn’t have to channel anyone. “Please take her? It’s just temporary until I can arrange for something else. I promise I”ll take care of everything. I”ll set up a crate at your house, and I”ll go buy her food right now. Just give it a few weeks and see if there”s any difference in your poll numbers. Please?”
Theo studied her eyes for a long moment before seeming to decide. “Fine. But it’s temporary,” he added when she squealed.
“Thank you,” she said, and she would have kissed him in gratitude except for the voices down the hall.
“Good choice, Theo,” Charlotte yelled.
“Sucker,” Todd added.
Amber grinned happily up into Theo’s eyes. “You won’t regret this.”
“I already do.” He turned to leave.
”Wait. Did you need something from me?” she asked, remembering when he first came to her door.
He turned around, and she was surprised but the sudden flush of color on his cheeks. “I left something for you on your desk,” he said gruffly, and went back to his office.
Amber looked over. Sitting on her desk was a tall, thick, delicious chocolate milkshake with a Post-it stuck to it.
In Theo’s bold, black handwriting, he had written:
#Imsorry #nottoooldtohashtag #teamgoatsandsquirrels
She swallowed hard, suddenly in danger of melting faster than the milkshake.