Chapter 11 #4
“Your IT department is a high school teacher?”
“Goodness, no. He’s a student. Senior.”
Rachel groaned, reaching for her wallet and pulling out a twenty. Nadine took the money as a man Rachel didn’t recognize gave her major side eye.
“Hey, Tom,” Nadine called out. “You got change? The cash box is all twenties and ones.”
A tall, lean man walked over. He was wearing tan chinos with an ancient, cracked, brown leather belt, and a blue button-down shirt with a fraying collar under a pilled, brown V-neck sweater.
His face was long, ears and nose outsized, and he looked like the kind of man you turned to when you had a problem and needed nonjudgmental advice.
Tom walked over and reached into his wallet, pulling out a ten. “Here.”
“I’ll keep track and pay you back when I go to the bank next.”
He waved her off. “No problem.” A hand was extended to Rachel. “I’m Tom Kohl, the town manager.”
She shook his hand. “Rachel Hart. You’re the one in charge?”
Did something in his face shift slightly when she told him her name, or was it her imagination?
“Not really. More like the cat herder.”
“Do you make decisions like credit card processors? Parking design?”
“You think the ticket was unfairly written?”
“No, I definitely overstayed my four hours. But Luview could do so much to increase revenue, and the way you handle tickets, parking fees, and basic transit in town leaves a lot to be desired.”
“Tell me more.” Tom folded his arms across his chest. The gesture would look challenging on Kell, but when Tom did it, it felt grounding.
Like he was here to listen for a while.
“Parking apps. An electric trolley for tourism and transit, with parking lots on either end of the line. Trolley stops at all the inns and B&Bs so people can go out and drink without worrying. Upgraded systems so town employees worry less about administrative functions and can focus more on growth.”
“Growth isn’t the only measure of success,” he said slowly.
“No. But annoying your visitors with poor parking solutions is definitely a measure of failure.”
Nadine piped up. “You know, Tom, she’s not the only one to complain. We’re getting a lot of families who want to park in town, use strollers and all that, but the four-hour limit is a problem.”
“Some towns don’t even charge for parking,” Rachel added. “There are feasibility studies showing what happens when visitors get free parking. They spend more in shoppes and at restaurants.”
“You work in urban planning? I thought you were here to make a deal for Markstone's with Lucinda and Boyce,” he asked.
Aha. He did know who she was.
“I took a class in it as part of my MBA,” she explained.
“You have some good ideas. Problem is funding them.”
“Your business development director should be able to–oh, right. He quit.”
Nadine’s expression changed to clear disapproval.
“Harry wanted to change everything,” she said with a dismissive sniff. “Called us a bunch of rubes.”
“He was only here because his wife got a big job at Nordicbeth and he needed something. Once the fundraising job opened up at the university, he split,” Tom said. “The guy used a chainsaw when he needed a scalpel.”
Rachel’s stomach roared with hunger. The sound made them all laugh.
“You need to head on over to Bilbee’s and get some food. Or the smoothie place,” Tom said.
“What about Love You India?” Nadine offered, the two of them devolving into an argument over which food Rachel should eat making her smile.
“I’m getting the falafel plate at Bilbee’s,” she declared, earning twin nods of approval.
“How long are you in town?” Tom asked her.
“Until February 15.”
“If you want to write some of these ideas up, I can work on them. You’ve got good thoughts.”
“Thanks. Kell suggested the same thing.” Lucinda, too, she didn’t add.
“Smart guy.” Tom tapped his temple. “A well-written proposal is better than a screed over the town’s PA system.”
Rachel winced. “You heard.”
“Oh, I heard, and then I've heard about nothing but what I heard. Everyone in town is talking about you, Rachel,” Tom said with a hearty laugh.
“You don’t seem offended by what I said.”
He shrugged. “You weren’t wrong. It’s just too bad it had to come out that way.”
“I know. Thanks.”
Nadine handed her a receipt. “Here.”
“Great. That’s done. Off to find an early dinner.”
They said their goodbyes and as she walked out the door, she crashed into a human wall.
A wall that smelled like woodsmoke, lime, spices, and…
Chocolate?
“Hi!” Kell said, his hands on her shoulders as she looked up, her ankle a bit wobbly.
Well, this was awkward.
“Hi! Sorry! I wasn’t looking.”
“You okay?” he asked. “Something wrong?”
“Other than the way things left off between us yesterday? No. Just paying a parking ticket.”
He seemed to ignore her bait. “Ah. Rusty got you?”
“Rusty?”
“He’s the cop who writes most of the parking tickets.”
“Then yes. He got me.”
Kell frowned. “He didn’t talk to you, did he?”
“No. Why?”
“Rusty’s very... friendly.”
“Why would that be a problem?”
“Friendly in a notch-on-his-belt kind of way.”
“Town player?”
“Basically.”
“I haven’t met him, but thanks for the warning.”
“He’ll try to charm your pants off.”
“Sounds like the local pastime.”
“Excuse me?”
She winked, already embarrassed, so why not go for it. “You got me to take mine off in the hot springs. But maybe not with charm.”
Kell’s low, deep laugh made parts of her body tingle, her breath shaky as she tried to hide her response.
“Just watch out for him. And don’t get parking tickets!”
“This was entirely my fault. I was hiding and lost track of time.”
“Hiding?”
“In the library.”
“Hiding from what?”
“Not what, who. People.”
“Which people?”
“All of them. They all hate me now.”
Brows knitting, he didn’t say the socially expected nicety.
“You deserve it.”
Blunt and grumpy Kell reappeared.
Except he wasn’t wrong.
“I know.”
“And now you’re paying penance. Who’s said something to you?”
“Nadine, Anne Petrinelli, Lucinda, Reef, and now Tom. But he wants me to write up a white paper on my parking logistics ideas.”
“A white paper?”
“So does Lucinda.”
“Huh.”
“Why are you here? Doing jail time for being a grump?”
“No. Paying for my annual business license.”
“Doesn’t your office manager do that?”
“You’re looking at my office manager.”
“You handle everything? What about Allen?”
Kell snorted. “Allen’s good for tree work and pulling poison ivy, and that’s it.”
“Why haven’t you hired admin help?”
“Why haven’t you done a thousand things you should do in your life, Rachel? Because I don’t have time.”
“You have to make time in order to make time.”
“Gee, thanks, Mom.”
“Why are you so grouchy?”
“I…” He blew out a long breath. “I’m way behind on everything. I have to pay a late fee on the license, and I have paperwork stacking up like crazy. Invoices. Estimates. GDPR compliance for email newsletters. All of it.”
“Too much business is never a bad thing, right?”
“It is when I’m part of two different ones.”
“I see. Why not pick one?”
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“I would think it’d be easy to decide–to turn toward the part of your life that gives you joy and holds promise for a wonderful future.”
He blinked once. Then twice. Holding her gaze, he softened visibly, gray eyes turning warm as his mouth twisted up.
“Yeah. It should be easy.”
But Rachel’s phone ruined the moment.
“I’ll let you get that,” Kell said, stepping aside. “The clerk’s office closes any minute now, and I need to take care of this. See you later, Rachel.”
As abruptly as they’d run into each other, Kell was running away.
And not a word about getting together again.
Despair gnawed at the edges of her grumbling stomach. She really had blown it yesterday. Ranting on that hot mic after kissing him wasn’t just a big mistake.
It was the death of any chance with Kell.
The day had just nosedived even further.
Fighting tears, she felt her phone buzz again and looked.
Even worse–the text was a message from her mother: I’ve been cast in a small role in a new K-drama series set half in L.A., half in South Korea. It’s a mother role, but these K-dramas are over-the-top popular!
Congrats, Mom, Rachel typed back.
Thank you. How’s your deal going?
Ugh. Rachel wanted to bang her head against the building’s pillar, but instead she started walking back to her car.
Her plan was to go to Bilbee’s.
Order the falafel plate.
Eat.
And stare at the wall in existential torment.
Going fine, she lied. On impulse, she added: When you were here, did you get along with the locals?
Instantly, her mom responded with: Of course!
Any tips? Rachel asked, knowing it would please her mother to be asked for advice.
Avoid that hair salon in the basement of someone’s house on Cedar Drive. The woman there has no idea how to do balayage. I looked like Robin Williams’ rainbow suspenders.
?? Rachel typed back.
You know. From Mork & Mindy?
Sometimes, her mother made less sense than usual. This was one of those times.
Is that a law firm? Rachel replied, earning a big frowny face in return.
Never mind, Portia answered. Just be yourself. I’m sure everyone there will love you!
“Hah,” Rachel muttered, back at her car. She climbed in, drove the two minutes to Bilbee’s, and found a parking spot in back.
Then she remembered: Bilbee’s had the strongest internet in town.
A new plan formed:
Park at Bilbee’s.
Order the falafel plate.
Eat.
Do a bunch of work on her laptop in her car.
Part of the reason she’d needed five hours at the library was the video sequence she had to watch and critique. As she sat in her parking spot, she pulled her laptop out of her bag, entered into her work space, and opened a video.
Bam! Lightning loading. Why on earth was a bar the best place for internet in Love You, Maine?
No way was she going to ask.