Page 94 of Hottie on Her Shelf
Chapter Nineteen
Strolling through a hospital wasn’t on Fitz’s list of top ten ways to spend a Friday afternoon, but with Hallie by his side, it should’ve been a little fun. Everything was, with her.
Well, she was by his side. But he was miserable.
They’d insisted together on adding today to the list of campaign events, but not to campaign. Healthcare workers had been stretched far beyond their capacity the last few years. For many, taking time off to grocery shop was nearly impossible, let alone nipping out to listen to mayoral candidates speak.
So, Hallie and Fitz had decided to do a walkthrough of the wards, handing out cookies and lemonade, and thanking as many as they could. The cookie-making was supposed to have been done together. Hallie had promised to wear an apron and nothing else.
Yeah, none of that happened. Once they broke up, Everett had conscripted his home economics classes to bake the cookies. Not to make Fitz’s life easier, or so he claimed, but to teach the students that even small acts of charity can make a difference.
Fitz had been grateful.
Hallie had passed along her thanks to Everett directly. And now here they were, sharing the event they’d dreamed up, and not having any fun at all.
At least, he assumed that was true for Hallie. That she was as sad (aka, heartbroken) and awkward (aka,freaking uncomfortable) and at odds (aka,ready to tear her hair out while simultaneously screaming and kicking a wall) as he was.
She looked beautiful. Like a…what were those flowers around the swan pond? A tulip. A pink top with a scalloped neck that reminded him of the shape of petals was tucked into grass-green pants. The colors perked up the drab grays and greens of the hospital decor. The prettiest thing about Hallie, though, was her smile. The big, bright smile full of warmth that she bestowed on every nurse, doctor, and orderly.
The smile Hallie gave him when they shook hands at the hospital door? It’d been perfunctory, at best. Still probably more than he deserved, because he’d hurt her.
Not knowingly, of course. Fitz had counted on her to have faith in him. To believe that he’d find a way for them to be together, once they put all this election craziness behind them. It was his fault for not acting sooner, for not doing more to shore up that faith. He’d let her down.
Fitz would regret not stepping up sooner, not confessing that he was falling in love with her. He’d regret that for the rest of his life.
“This went well, I think.” Hallie tilted her chin up, waiting for his response.
“Yeah. They seemed to appreciate our taking the time. You had a great idea.”
“We had a great idea,” she corrected. “Being on different tickets doesn’t mean we can’t overlap on the important things.”
That sounded just like the Hallie of a week ago. Of course, there was still a cluster of staff around them, which explained her cordiality. “Thanks, all the same. No press, just connecting with people—this was the best event of the whole campaign.”
“Agreed.”
Then that awkward bubble of silence descended, the one that surrounded them every time they finished spitting out either arguments or shallow pleasantries.
It sucked.
“Look, Hallie, I—” Fitz reached for her arm, but just as his fingertips grazed her cool skin, a nurse stepped between them.
“Mr. Mayor? May I have a word?”
Hallie faded away from him, like a sun ray being blocked by a cloud. Damn it. “What is it?”
“In private?”
Strange. He followed her around the corner into an empty hallway. “If you’re angling for the cookie recipe, I can’t claim any knowledge. The Swan Cove High School home ec class made the magic happen.”
“No, this is about your mother. I assumed, since you didn’t say anything, that you didn’t want people to know she was here. I can take you to visit her now.”
“My mother?” That was out of left field. Not just sick, but sick enough to be admitted? “What’s wrong?”
“Is that a test, Mr. Mayor?” She winked, like she’d already peeked at the answer grid to a pop quiz. “You know I can’t divulge patient information.”
The nurse wouldn’t tell him, because Fitz, as the devoted son, was already supposed to know all about his poor sick mom.
“Right. Of course.” He threw her a two-fingered salute. “We get a lot of VIPs here. Good to see you’re doing everything to protect their privacy.”
