Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
Rowdy
Midnight blue is the perfect choice for my new suit.
“It matches her eyes,” I say as the seamstress pins the cuffs.
I’m standing on a carpeted platform surrounded by mirrors at the one and only upscale men’s clothing boutique in downtown Songbird Ridge.
The seamstress, Bonnie, looks up at me from where she squats near my feet, pins gripped between her teeth. “Is that your sweetheart’s favorite color?”
I look down at her and say, “It’s the color of Riley’s eyes.”
She takes one of the pins from his mouth and gapes at me. “That’s real romantic, Rowdy.”
A voice sounds behind me. “You talking about Riley Hutchinson?”
I turn my head as Bonnie clucks at me for shifting my weight around.
A few feet away, there’s Pete Hutchinson from the real estate agency.
I swallow. “Yeah, you know her?”
I’m teasing, of course, as I try to act casual. I’m usually pretty good at that, but man, it would feel pretty weird if this guy knew I’m having regular, hot monkey sex with his sister.
Well, it’s not a regular thing yet. But I’m manifesting here.
“Yeah,” he jokes back. “I know her from somewhere. I thought I heard something at the barber shop about you going to the gala with her.”
“You heard right,” I say, adding, “She is a real good girl. I’m extremely flattered that she asked.”
Pete is getting measured for a classic black tuxedo, and looks like a slightly pudgy, middle-aged 007.
“About that. There’s something you ought to know, Rowdy.”
Pete has that look that people get when they need to have a serious conversation.
I don’t want him revealing any of Riley’s personal business here in the store, so I raise my hand, “If there are any surprises, I like to find things out along the way. Keeps life interesting.”
“It’s nothing like that,” he says. “It’s about the guests of honor. I just got a call today that Wilson Rogers III is coming to the gala.”
The name is familiar. “As in the now-defunct tobacco company? That Wilson Rogers?”
He nods. “He stands to inherit his entire family fortune. The company may be defunct, but the foundation is still going strong. The old man’s donation to this town makes up forty percent of our budget that funds the base salaries of our artists.”
I blink at him. “I had no idea that family made up such a huge amount of that.”
Pete nods. “And Wilson is thinking of taking the foundation in a new direction. He’s stacking the board of directors, and word at the barber shop is that guy has been donating to all the local politicians who want to dismantle libraries and funding for the arts.
I had one customer tell me that guy has been kicking around the idea of running for governor. ”
I’m taking my time to process all of this. That name is not just familiar because of old tobacco; he’s also familiar to me for other reasons. My granddad, for one, would like a word. May he rest in peace.
“That guy’s a shitbird.”
“Shitbird or not, Riley needs to make a good impression on him to secure the funding and keep this thing going for Songbird Ridge. I’m trusting her on this because I need to focus on selling the remaining tickets. We have an entire table that’s unsold.”
I think about this, and I have an easy solution. I just have to make one phone call after this appointment.
“So,” Pete continues, “Unless she and all the other musicians, potters, and whatnot in town want to learn how to drive a forklift and get jobs at the lumber mill or Walmart.”
Over my dead body.
“Pretty sure that’s why Riley asked me to be her date. She said she needed someone to be her social buffer.”
Bonnie, who has been listening to every word we’ve been saying, chimes in. “Oh, trust me, Pete. Rowdy here is great at parties.”
The tailor working with Pete laughs. “Right? Remember when the fireworks company was a no-show last Fourth of July? Rowdy went out and bought up everything left over at the tent sale and set up a station on the roof of his house. He saved Independence Day!”
I clear my throat. “Got a talking-to from the fire chief, too,” I mutter. “Worth it.”
The tailors embarrass me by mentioning that I stayed up all night once to build a new stable for the live nativity in time for Christmas Eve, after the old one was lost in the 2024 flood and ended up downriver.
Some other customer pipes up with a story about how I kept the whole town supplied with ice when the power was out for days.
If my granddad were here, he’d tell me not to get too big for my britches with all these compliments. “I’m rarely at a loss for words, but I’m coming close.”
Nobody’s hearing me.
“He’s really the best person for Riley. To bring her out of her shell! I think they’re a perfect match,” says Bonnie. “Oh my gosh, can you just picture the cute babies they would make?”
Pete scoffs. “Okay. That’s about enough of that.”
I have to agree.
“Pete continues, “If you want to really be of help to Riley, you’ll be on your best behavior. I know all about the good stuff. But my brother-in-law is a patrolman. So I know all the bad stuff, too.”
I blanche at the mention of the cops, but try to maintain my bravado. “How is Hodges these days? Tell him I said hello.”
Hodges Pitts graduated five years behind me at Songbird Ridge High School. He was a goober then, and now he’s a goober with a badge.
“You can tell him yourself at the gala.”
I can tell from the look on his face that he knows precisely what Hodges’s beef with me is about.
Well, this sucks.
But that’s not going to stop me from giving Riley the best night of her life and making sure she helps the town get the funding that it needs.
As long as I manage to keep my big mouth shut about the small stuff that doesn’t matter, no matter how I feel about Wilson Rogers III.
I pre-pay for the suit and head out the door.
I have some thinking to do.
On the opposite side of the street, Riley is heading into the Bluejay Café. I check the time on the fire department’s clock tower. It’s that time—brunch with Maddie.
Damn. The suit appointment took longer than I expected. I was hoping to catch her before now.
Instead, I head into Robin’s Deli & Groceries store and pick up some gummy bears, Pringles, and dark chocolate with almonds, and her favorite coffee flavoring from the dairy case.
I grab some flowers from Gina at the party station next to the deli, but Gina grabs the carnations out of my hand and switches them for a red-violet daisy.
“She’ll like this better.”
I give Gina a nod of thanks, then I pay for my stuff and head over to Riley’s studio. She’s still at lunch, but I let myself in.
Yesterday I was being polite. I still have a key to the building from the time I rewired the upstairs for Daphne. It was taking so long that she ended up giving me a key.
Riley would be horrified, but I go upstairs anyway and leave the bag of snacks at the top of the stairs, and put the flowers in an empty jar that I find on a shelf with a dozen other jars, presumably that she uses for any number of things while she’s painting.
I let myself out, not sure if that’s the nicest or the creepiest thing I’ve ever done for a woman.