Page 3 of Hottie on Her Shelf
Hallie grabbed her keys, pushing Megan out the door in front of her. “If you truly believe that, we might have to kibosh presents for the rest of our lives.”
Yoga was great because it made Hallie feel virtuous about knocking out non-sweaty exercise that kept her flexible and halfway counted as meditation.
Yoga, however, did nothing as far as cardio was concerned. That was clear by the end of her six-block sprint. Apparently, the more appropriate and necessary present Meganshould’ve given her was a gym membership.
Hallie collapsed against the cool wall of city hall’s lobby and panted. A lot.
She wanted to blame the hangover, but that probably only accounted for, at most, half of her diminished capacity. She definitely blamed being thirty. It was now the worst birthday ever.
Sliding around the corner, she sank onto the stairs and glanced at the watch her parents had given her for high school graduation. Good. There was still time. Hallie didn’t need a watch that allowed her to check her email and buy shoes. Her watch was a visual reminder of her parents’ love and pride in her accomplishments. Their belief in her was worth ten times more than any tech gadget.
She’d climb the two flights up to the clerk’s office after catching her breath. Or at least after the stitch in her side subsided—
“Did you check your email yet, Mr. Mayor?” a man asked in a brusque tone.
“It’s not even nine a.m. and you just intercepted me two flights away from my office. And I’ve told you for years to call me Fitz.”
Hallie froze.
Mayor Fitz Montgomery. The youngest mayor in the history of Swan Cove.
He of Montgomery Industries, MI Shipping, MI Lumber, Swan Cove Pies, Montgomery Harbor Inn, MI Exchange, Montgomery Center for Fine Arts… What wasn’t named after his family in town was still owned by them, albeit with a cutesy name to appeal to tourists, like the Pie Time pie shop.
“Not going to happen,” the other man said. “My job is to constantly remind you that you are mayor. Makes the rigors of the campaign easier to swallow when you’re already holding the prize in your hand.”
“I don’t need your pop psychology, Derek,” the mayor grumbled. “Just your campaign strategies. And I barely need that, since my name’s the only one on the ballot.”
Was that a cocky smirk in his smooth, baritone voice?
“Not anymore.”
After a beat, the dry denial came. “Very funny.”
Hallie slapped her hand over her mouth to muffle the giggle. Because it was funny that the mayor had echoed the exactthing she’d said to Megan.
“I know it sounds like a joke, Mr. Mayor, but it’s real. There’s another candidate in the race. A woman.”
The derision that dripped off his words put a worse taste in Hallie’s mouth than the neon smoothie.
After an overly long pause—was he grimacing? Unable to process the fact someone might have the temerity to run against him?—the mayor asked, “Who?”
“Hallie Scott. I don’t know who she is.”
The mayor seemed to, though, because he instantly filled in the info. “She’s the librarian.”
That was interesting.
Why did the mayor know her name right off the top of his head? Sure, their coastal Maine town was small—except for the summer months when it swelled with vacationers—but Hallie intentionally kept a very low profile. She didn’t run in the same social circles as Fitz Montgomery.
“It doesn’t matter who she is.” Derek’s dismissal swatted away Hallie’s existence like it mattered less than a stable fly at the beach.
“Seeing as you’re my campaign manager, a challenger such as Miss Scott should matter to you quite a bit.” The mayor’s voice was still smooth, but anyone with a modicum of self-preservation could hear that smoothness sheathed sharp steel.
The other man scoffed. “Her last name isn’t Montgomery. That’s the only pertinent piece of information you need when declaring how much more qualified you are than her.”
That…that was beyond.
Hallie didn’t want to run for mayor, but she also didn’t want to be denied her basic right as a citizen to do so. She didn’t believe it was required to be a member of the Montgomery family in order to do good for the town. She didn’t believe her chances were impossible. Not great, sure, but not impossible simply because of her last name.
