Chapter 10
Gabe
After dozing in the tub for a couple of hours, the damage of which would probably require several spinal surgeries to correct, I threw my shoes on and went to dig out Sabrina’s car.
I resisted the urge to stop and drink in Sabrina’s sleeping form in. She was wrapped in the plaid comforter, one bare shoulder exposed. What I wouldn’t give to see all of her in the daylight. Every single inch of her silky skin.
But then I remembered to whom the body was attached.
I shuddered. Bad idea.
The worst idea.
And not like me at all.
I didn’t fuck random people.
Because what we’d done last night?
Definitely fucking.
Excellent fucking.
Life-changing fucking.
And that wasn’t me. I was a good guy. I pursued women. Dated them. Got to know them before taking them to bed. Women from nice families who were looking for a partner to build a life with.
There was no quick and dirty fucking. Yet suddenly I was questioning why. Because it was a lot of fun.
Even if I now had to face reality.
With a shovel borrowed from the motel owners, I put my head down and focused on the task at hand. Snow removal.
I relished the way it made my muscles burn and my thoughts sharpen.
Yesterday—witnessing Sabrina in her element, really understanding her thoughts and getting a peek into how prepared she was—had been illuminating.
I may not agree with her methods or her philosophy. Or her bratty attitude.
But there was no doubt in my mind that she was effective. For years, I’d fought every small-town battle on my own. From parking space to zoning regulations to a petition to change the high school mascot.
But I was tired. This fight was far bigger than any Maplewood had faced in a long time.
And suddenly I couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, Sabrina could help.
I’d have to keep a close eye on her to make sure she didn’t offend the townspeople or start a Vermont-size civil war, but I couldn’t deny that the woman was smart.
When I was done with the car, I helped the staff clear the sidewalk.
Then I headed back to our room. Based on the location of the sun, where it was beginning to peek out of the clouds, I guessed it was eight-ish.
By now there was a good chance the plows had been out.
If that was the case, we could be back in Maplewood in an hour.
When I stepped into the room, Sabrina was awake, dressed, and already typing furiously on her phone.
“Ready to go?” I asked. “I dug out your car.”
Her thumbs stilled and she looked up at me. “Thank you.” With that, she put her head back down and resumed the critical task she’d been in the middle of.
Once she’d finished, we climbed into the car in silence, and after she’d pulled out of the lot, I kept my eyes on the road.
“Is there a Dunks off 89?” she asked a few minutes into the trip.
“You drink Dunkin’?”
Rather than respond, she sat up straighter and kept driving.
Sighing, I unlocked my phone and navigated to the maps app. “Two more exits,” I instructed. “On the left.”
Armed with a medium black coffee, I was ready to get back to town and deal with whatever shitstorm awaited my return.
“Are you going to continue being weird, or can we get back to work saving the town?” she asked once we were back on the highway.
My breath caught in my lungs. “I’m not being weird.”
Taking her eyes off the road, she pushed her sunglasses down her nose and glared at me. “You are being so weird. And I really don’t have the time or energy to deal with that. So we fucked. It’s over with. Move on.”
I blinked at her, caught off guard by her tone. Yeah, we had fucked.
“Should we talk about it?” The moment the question was out, I winced. Damn, those words sounded sad and awkward coming out of my mouth.
She shook her head, intent on the highway ahead again. “It’s times like this I wish I kept an NDA on me.”
“An NDA?” I sputtered.
She dipped her chin sharply. “Yes. Non-disclosure agreement.”
“I am an attorney,” I retorted. “I am familiar.”
“Standard practice.” She plucked her coffee from the cupholder and sipped it casually. “If you only knew how many NDAs I’ve made people sign. Usually, I won’t have sex without one.”
I almost spit out my own scalding coffee. “You won’t have sex without a legally binding document?”
She shrugged as if this was a perfectly reasonable requirement. “I made an exception for you and now I regret it.”
I sat back in my seat and shook my head. “Don’t go making me feel special or anything.”
She barked out a laugh. “You’re not special. Trust me. Now, if we’re done talking about the brief moment the two of us were naked together, I’d like to get to work. You’re sitting in my car pouting while we could be strategizing and rescuing your dumb ass.”
A familiar sense of anger churned in my gut. Every time this woman spoke, my body responded. “Rescuing me? By getting me recalled before I can accomplish anything?”
“I don’t give a shit if you’re recalled or not. I’m here to help the town.”
Pinching my eyes closed, I willed myself to breathe steadily. She was unbelievable. Cocky, dismissive, and wrong.
“Is your ego really that big?” she asked. “It’s not about you, Gabriel. Sorry to inform you, but Maplewood is a lot bigger than one fragile man. It survived without you for hundreds of years.”
God, this woman twisted every word that came out of my mouth. “It’s not like that. It’s—” I sighed. I never had trouble being articulate, but around her, I couldn’t get the right words out of my damn mouth.
“I want to help the town,” she said. “The town that, for better or for worse, raised me. The town that took care of my mom after my dad died. The town that has given opportunity and support to so many wonderful people. Maplewood is bigger than the mayor,” she rearticulated.
I sat with my focus straight ahead, still unable to form a snappy response.
Dammit. She was right. Not that I was capable of saying that out loud.
But she had the wrong impression of me.
Eyes closed, I gathered my thoughts. “I need to be very clear right now.” I took a deep breath, ready to admit to a truth I’d never said out loud before. “Most days, I don’t want to be mayor.”
She gripped the steering wheel tighter, making it creak, but otherwise didn’t react.
“There are days I hate this job. And more often than I’d like to admit, I resent Maplewood for putting all of this on my shoulders.
” While I was sure I’d regret letting this secret out, it was surprisingly refreshing.
Even knowing she’d twist this honesty and weaponize it against me, I felt lighter.
She said nothing, which I took as an invitation to keep talking.
“I’ve been on the job for two years, yet I get saddled with the blame for everything that’s happened in the last twenty.
And despite the way I want to help this town, all my suggested changes get blocked and the committees hamstring me.
I want to do right by Maplewood, but the citizens have a different view of what that means.
They just want a yes-man. A useless figurehead to smile and look pretty while Bitsy Bramble and the Maple Street Mafia run things behind the scenes. ”
She barked out a laugh.
“What?” I snapped, heat creeping up my neck. This was the most open I’d been in a long, long time, and being so exposed was nerve-racking.
“That’s the first honest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
The air escaped my lungs. That was not the response I expected.
“And you’re right,” she went on. “They don’t want an actual leader. They want nostalgia, a way of life that’s gone. This town needs to evolve to support its citizens in the twenty-first century, whether they like it or not.”
I nodded. What the hell was happening? Here I was, easily agreeing with Sabrina Monroe, of all people.
Maplewood was running a playbook written in the 1970s.
Society had changed greatly in the last fifty years, but the town’s older generation resisted change and innovation.
They pushed back any time the younger crowd suggested we try new things and fought anyone who tried to build, develop, or innovate.
“They don’t want to evolve,” I responded. “Everyone wants the glory days again.”
She tapped the steering wheel half a dozen times. “And that,” she said sharply, “is why we don’t ask them what they want, Gabriel.”
She sighed, as if explaining this to me were a true chore. “You don’t take out a threat. You neutralize it. And when it’s gone, another will ultimately pop up in its place. The key is to keep them happy and spinning their wheels while doing what needs to be done.”
I was hit with a myriad of emotions—anger, guilt, shame, and uncertainty to name a few—as she spoke.
To the rest of the world, I was a superhero. To Sabrina Monroe, I was a flawed schlub just trying to do his best.
And her conclusion about me underscored the question I’d been asking myself for years.
Who the hell was I? Really?
“Maplewood citizens don’t truly understand what it takes to transition into a twenty-first-century small town.
And they don’t have to. They elect people to do the heavy lifting.
The key to being effective is to push through your agenda and make the progress happen, all while keeping them engaged and distracted.
And then, when their lives are positively impacted by the work you’ve done, you make them think it was their idea. ”
I cringed. “That sounds devious.”
“It sounds effective.”
We pulled off the highway and slowed as we approached town.
I let her words marinate in my mind. Maybe she had a point. I’d always sought consensus. It’d been my goal to rally everyone around my ideas. And then I’d found myself stuck in four-hour meetings where I had to break up fights about repainting the parking lines a slightly darker shade of yellow.
The citizens of this town loved to get bogged down in the details, and each time, I got pulled under with them.
Along Main Street, shop owners were out shoveling sidewalks and homeowners were snow-blowing driveways. There was easily a foot of the icy white powder on the ground. I’d have to deal with my own house shortly.
As Sabrina approached my place, she eased over to the curb. Then she put the car in park, gripped the steering wheel with both hands, and turned to face me.
“I’m beginning to realize that some of my assumptions about you may have been flawed.”
I broke into a cheek-aching smirk. “Are you admitting to being wrong?”
“Fuck no.” She glowered. “What I was trying to say is that I thought you were just an idiot who’d failed upward. But I see now that you actually care. That you want to do right by this town. So I can work with that.”
I huffed. “So I’m not an idiot?”
She laughed. “Jury’s still out. You’re ineffective and inexperienced, but I can teach you.”
Irritation flooded me once again. God, this woman couldn’t even get a sentence out without insulting me. Luckily, the car was in park, because I was ready to jump out, regardless of whether it was moving.
Turning away, I pushed open the door.
“Don’t be so whiny,” she said to my back. “Like I said, as much as I hate to admit it, we’re on the same team now.”
Feet sinking into the snow, I turned and looked back at her.
“And don’t despair; you’ve got a great dick,” she went on casually. “So you’re not a complete waste of oxygen.”
I stood on the uncleared sidewalk, melting snow soaking into my shoes and pant legs, too confused to speak.
“I said great. Not exceptional or unforgettable. Don’t get any ideas,” she shouted out the open window as she peeled off.
As I walked into my house, I couldn’t help but stand a bit taller.
While I disliked Sabrina immensely, we had accomplished a lot during this trip.
And she’d complimented my dick. Not too shabby.