Page 53 of Hottie on Her Shelf
“You’re Woodrow Wilson.” Ana slurped up corn chowder from a mini bread bowl balanced in one hand.
Hallie raced through everything she knew about the president—admittedly, not a lot—and couldn’t come up with anything that related to her. He’d been a war president, for crying out loud. “Is that meant as a compliment or an insult?”
“He said I not only use all the brains that I have, but all I can borrow.”
That was actually completely on the nose. Hallie filed it away in her permanent mental quote collection. And, truth be told, she couldn’t wait to share it with Fitz. He’d get a kick out of it.
“Ha!” Megan waved a clam strip. “Fun quote. Smart guy.”
Randall’s side-eye hit her so hard that Hallie practically heard it crunch against Megan’s face. “Seeing that he won the Nobel Peace Prize and gave women the vote, you could say so.”
“He didn’t give women the vote, we took it.” Ana stuck out her tongue at him. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself. You parade around, out and proud in your rainbow scarf, but deep down, you’re just another bastion of the patriarchy.”
“You take that back. It is utterly hurtful.”
Ordinarily, Hallie enjoyed her friends’ banter. Today, it was just static over the rapid beating of her heart because her new campaign strategy was a risk.
Not to mention it was the only one they’d come up with. So she backed away toward the dais with a wave. “Gotta go do the thing. Thanks again.” When Hallie turned to look for the steps, she bounced right off Fitz.
He steadied her with a hand above her elbow. “Is running over the competition your new strategy, Ms. Scott?”
“No. Sorry.”
But he might feel like he’d been run over by the end of the event, Hallie thought. Guilt grabbed on to the nerves circling her belly in an epic round of crack the whip.
Fitz looked like an action figurine of Sporty Mayor. A cream half-zip pullover revealed a blue oxford with a light brown tie with a clam shell pattern. Well-weathered boat shoes, of course, that Hallie assumed had logged plenty of nautical miles on one of the Montgomerys’ three boats. The wind tousled his golden hair artfully, which wasn’t fair since Hallie knew it was teasing random, messy strands from her French braid.
Men had it so easy. No wonder Ana had snapped at Randall, even though more than a hundred years had passed since the passage of the Nineteenth Amendment. Unlike Fitz, Hallie would be judged on her messy hair. So, she unzipped her windbreaker and removed it. It’d be cold, but at least she wouldn’t be a bulked-up frump next to him.
“It’s nice to see you.” He leaned in closer to murmur in her ear. “It’ll be even nicer to see even more of you.”
“Fitz!” Hallie yelped. Then she frantically scanned the crowd to see if anyone had noticed. “You can’t flirt with me at a campaign event.”
“Which is why I said it softly. Nobody overheard.”
It appeared to be true. People were still digging into their lunches and getting settled on the folding chairs spread in rows down the wharf. She blinked at him slowly. “Oh. I’m not used to being stealthy.”
“The trick to being stealthy? At least, according to my many rewatches of the Clooney/Pitt Ocean’s franchise, including the awesome all-female versions?” He winked. “Be normal, be yourself.”
Did he really think that made it easier? Or even doable? Even though she did appreciate his taste in movies… “Those are two opposing tactics. I can pretend to be normal. If I’m being myself, then I’d be paranoid, screeching like a seagull every time you moved your hand within touching distance of me.” Hallie considered this. “I’d probably have shifty eyes, too.”
“Good God, woman. We’re not about to steal a royal baby. We’re just not announcing to the world that we’ve discovered an interest in each other.”
Hallie licked her dry lips. “I’m no good at lying.”
Fitz roared with laughter. “Then you’re definitely not suited to be a politician.” Offering his arm, he led her up the stairs. They settled themselves on the dais.
Hallie was grateful the ocean was at their back. She wouldn’t be squinting at the glare from it. Andeveryone else would be, which meant less focus on her wind-whipped hair. Also? Their table was draped in a tablecloth with the enormous red, white, and blue bunting rose at the front. That gave her license to fidget and cross her legs with nobody the wiser.
It felt odd not to have notes, though. Ana had insisted she leave her tablet at home to give the appearance of utter confidence in her seemingly off-the-cuff responses, which she’d practiced, nonstop, for three days.
The jingle of anchor chains and the creaking of the dock’s planks should’ve been a soothing, familiar lullaby to Hallie. She often came out here for lunch, dinner, or just to relax in front of the ocean’s constant swells.
Not today.
Today, the soothing noises jangled on her already frazzled nerves. Either she was about to turn herself into a target of loathing…or…she was about to do the same to Fitz. It felt vaguely sleazy, which Megan had pointed out probably meant it was the correct political maneuver.
The logic was solid. Still, it wasn’t the way Hallie liked to do things. Which Randall had then pointed out probably meant it’d have a higher shot at success than her previous campaign outing.
