Page 52 of Hottie on Her Shelf
Chapter Eleven
“If I’d known all campaign events focused on food, I’d have run for mayor years ago.” Randall broke a whoopie pie in half and offered one to Hallie.
She waved him off. Her embryonic campaign was on thin enough ice. Talking to constituents with chocolate cookie stuck in her teeth would ring the death knell on it. “Please. You’re twenty-seven. You weren’t old enough years ago.”
“In California, you can be governor if you’re eighteen.”
Trust Randall to argue with a ridiculously random fact. Hallie zipped up her navy windbreaker. The gusts coming off the ocean today were fierce. She tapped on the oilcloth front of his yellow slicker. “In California, it isn’t fifty degrees in May at lunchtime. You’d rather be here, legit experiencing all four seasons. You love the excuse to break out all your different weights of coats.”
Ana stepped away from the busy takeout window of the lobster restaurant that was the stanchion of the wharf. “Plus, you come to the wharf at least twice a week. It’s the same food you eat then. It isn’t special just because Hallie’s sitting behind a giant bunting rosette.”
Even if she won the election by some miracle, she’d certainly never get a big head with these friends. Always known for her bluntness, that was a particularly pointed barb. “Thanks, Ana. For the reminder I’m not special.”
“I didn’t say—sorry. Low blood sugar. Gimme that.” Ana snatched the other half of the whoopie pie and gobbled it down. She was dabbling in training for a half marathon and it made her hungry all the time.
Dabblingbecause she hated to run but wanted a legit excuse to head to the warmth of Fort Lauderdale in February. Hallie had sat on the bleachers and read her book while Ana did laps at the high school track. That counted as support, right?
Randall shoved his sunglasses atop his head, brown hair disheveled from wearing his big headphones all morning at the groomers, and looked at the growing crowd and the line at the white and blue framed takeout window. “If you eat this well as a potential mayor, I wonder how much better the food is if you run for governor. Or president.”
Oh, Hallie had to shut that down immediately. Her heart was in her throat, her stomach was in knots, and she’d woken up with a headache from clenching through her nightguard from stress. Tension. Anxiety. Fear. You name it.
There would be no wondering about a bigger variation. If she escaped this race without an ulcer and her first white hair, that’d be enough.
“First of all, I have zero political aspirations beyond this race. And, secondly, the events coincide with food because it’s an easy way to bolster attendance. Everyone has to eat, even on a Thursday. It helps drum up extra business for the establishments on the wharf, which is a good thing for both candidates to claim. Trust me, I’m not in this for the free lobster roll Poseidon’s Kitchen will hand me at the end of it.”
“I’ll be with you in spirit, but I may not last till the end,” he warned. “We’ve got a poodle coming in that’s bad tempered. If Cora can’t handle her alone, she’ll text me.”
“Aren’t all poodles bad tempered?” Megan asked as she scooted into their little circle with a basket of fried clams. The black half apron for her styling scissors and combs was still tied around her waist.
“No snark allowed,” Randall said with a warning finger shake. He was a passionate supporter of every pup that crossed his threshold. “All dog breeds have their good and bad highlights.”
“C’mon. I call ’em like I see ’em. Poodles are as temperamental as Mrs. Eliopoulos if the water is one degree the wrong way in the shampoo sinks.”
Randall rolled his arms in an enormous circle, then clapped. “Oh! We should do campaign sound bites on TikTok for you, Hallie!”
That was a horrifying suggestion. Social media was not Hallie’s thing due to the whole introvert/preferring to always be in the background entirety of her personality.
“That’s not the place for our girl.” Megan sniffed, as if the very idea smelled worse than the seagull guano at the end of the dock. The cruise ship crew scraped it every week before letting any passengers deboard. “Hallie making videos? Even twelve-second ones? No way. She forgot her one line in the Christmas pageant and fell over instead of doing a somersault.”
Great. There was a memory Hallie kept in a mental vault behind bulletproof glass, titanium doors, and a concrete box to avoid ever revisiting. But the one thing you could count on best friends for, besides hugs and unconditional support? Embarrassment.
“When was this? How did I miss that hilarity?” Ana’s indignation sped her words out in a near screech.
“Well, she was only nine,” Megan conceded. “Having avoided performing since then, I doubt she’s improved to where videos would be a good idea. But you do have a point, Randall.”
“I always do. You just don’t always deign to acknowledge my brilliance.”
Megan turned to Hallie, eyes wide. “You need a social media presence. ASAP. We didn’t think of that.”
Oh, Hallie had thought of it and dismissed it as painful and avoidable…until her friends ganged up on her, at least. “There’s no doubt a lot we haven’t thought of yet.” That’s what happened when you cannonballed into a new adventure without any planning. It made Hallie all the more relieved that she’d accepted Fitz’s generous offer of coaching help.
If he’d still follow through with it after today.
“I’m only here for twenty minutes, too. Same for her.” Megan pointed at Elaine Alsip, who was sitting on a wrought-iron bench clasping her late husband’s walking stick with its swan’s head handle. Their family had been here almost as long as the Montgomerys. And every time she came into the library, she paused in front of the romance shelf, sniffed, and muttered “low class trash” with a withering stare at Hallie. “She’s got a blowout with me. Prep for her daughter and grandkids arriving tonight.”
Oh. A little, no, a lot of Hallie’s bravery melted away. Even with a crowd of easily sixty people, she’d been counting on the presence of her three besties, if only to flick her eyes at them for a moment in the next hour and get a warm smile in return.
The trick was to not let them see how close she was to falling apart without them. Hallie squeezed Megan’s arm. “I appreciate you guys coming out, more so for all your help the past few days. Coming up with a new campaign strategy would’ve been impossible without you.”
