Page 55 of Hottie on Her Shelf
“Yes.” Fitz talked right on top of her. “Why don’t you hang around once we’re done and I’m grabbing my lunch? We can get to know each other.” With an outstretched hand—but eyes that still burned—he included her. “Ms. Scott, you’re welcome to join us.”
“I’d be delighted to, for a short while. It’ll be helpful. I like to get all of my talking urges out before going back to work at the library. Like draining a septic tank.”
Yes, it was both a weak and rehearsed joke, but it turned out that neither Hallie nor any of her friends had any latent stand-up talent. The fact that three people chuckled at it was an enormous win in her book.
“Thanks, Fergus, for reminding everyone I’m a proud lifelong resident of Swan Cove. Not that the zip code on my birth certificate should sway anyone’s vote.” Hand over his heart, he gave a mini bow.
Of course, that earned Fitz as big a cheer as if he’d just hand-carried the game-winning touchdown across the entire length of the field.
It was also the best segue Hallie could hope for. The time for attack was nigh. “That could be both a pro and a con, Mayor. You see, longevity in a place, in a role, can lead to lackluster performance.”
“Now who’s tossing out low blows, Ms. Scott? Never accuse a man of lackluster performance. Certainly not without firsthand knowledge.” And then Fitz tossed that devastatingly sexy wink at the crowd.
They ate it up with a roar. She couldn’t blame them. He did have a reputation as a ladies’ man, which was not at all what she’d been trying to attack him for. Talk about a backfire.
Surprisingly, Fitz was known for his love ’em, leave ’em, but still like ’em policy. No string of bitter, broken hearts in his wake. It was as if the women considered themselves privileged just to have had the shot. Like Academy Award nominees.
Hallie had to win this tug of war with him to control the crowd. “I want to be clear. I am in no way accusing Mayor Montgomery of neglecting or slacking in his duties.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” It was Elaine Alsip. She was aged enough to get away with being salty. And on her bench, disturbingly close to the dais and thus easy to overhear.
“I came here to see a throwdown. Isn’t that the point of finally having two candidates?”
Oh, dear. That shout-out had been from a lobsterman in a heavy oilcloth slicker and boots. This was the time of day they started dropping off their catch at Poseidon’s Kitchen, but…a good 99 percent of the lobstermen lived in Crow Harbor. This guy was stirring up trouble just to be a jerk, not as an actual concerned citizen.
Fitz took a sip of water, leaned back, and lifted an eyebrow. It was a clear indication he was leaving Hallie to sink or swim on her own, which she deserved after lobbing the first real attack. So, this was it. Her big plan. “Here’s how the current administration”—she gave a graceful game-show hostess presentational wave to Fitz—“has fallen short of their promises.”
Shelby Kirk, a columnist for the Gazette, waved a hand. “The mayor promised to date me back in high school. Can you make him follow through on that?”
“I can’t make him do anything.” This time, Hallie did a super slow neck roll, channeling a snowy owl, and pursed her lips to give Fitz the most dramatic I see right through you stare ever. “Evidently, no woman can.”
Aha! This time the crowd roared in laughter with her. At Fitz. It was a glorious sound. It spiked Hallie’s confidence by 1,000 percent. It gave her, frankly, the guts to continue.
“Campaigns are when a candidate makes promises to you. Bribes, really.” She made finger quotes. “‘If you vote for me, I’ll do all these wonderful things.’ Like a sophomore class president promising to allow video game play in study hall, but…have you ever heard of a teacher allowing that?”
A soft rumble of nos filled the air. She hadthem.
Eye contact was a bridge too far. Hallie stared at the tops of heads. And very much made sure not to so much as flicker an eyelash in Fitz’s direction. “Empty promises are useless. They leave you feeling twice as let down as if the candidate had never dangled that carrot covered in tasty blue-cheese dip in front of you. I firmly believe the mayor had good intentions, but if he doesn’t fulfill those promises,” she lifted her empty palms, “he’s no better than a used car salesman that fudges the truth on how long a car with a hundred and fifty thousand miles on it will last.”
Just as Ana had predicted, that simile brought Fitz into defense mode. He rustled next to her, no doubt abandoning his relaxed posture. “I’ve accomplished plenty in both my tenures as mayor.”
“I’m sure that’s true. However, I’m shining a light on what you didn’t accomplish.” And she went in for the kill. “Because you promised to add funds to the arts program in all of the schools.In both of your campaigns.”
The bland, expressionless mask was gone, but so was the practiced politician look. Fitz now wore the focused, interested, small squint that popped a vertical line between his brows he had when the two of them were alone at his house. Like they were debating for the fun of it, rather than with an audience of more than fifty.
“Introducing an initiative doesn’t magically make the funds appear. I tried. I put the measure up for discussion. It was the school board that didn’t approve the shift of funds from other programs.”
“Perhaps you should’ve sussed that out prior to making an empty promise,” Hallie retorted. Her adrenaline had layers of adrenaline now as she rolled on. “You also promised to borrow close to a million dollars to pay for the installation of a fiber optic communications network at all of the town’s buildings. I can confirm that no such network has been put in at the library, or even broached.”
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Hopefully, from other downtown businesses who suddenly remembered that they didn’t have it, either.
Fitz shook his head, regret showering off of him with that simple movement. “It was deemed to be an overly optimistic reach once we got into the nitty gritty of a bond statement.”
Still, an unfulfilled campaign promise. And she had more. Hallie pointed over the heads of the crowd. “You paved over the gravel and oyster shell parking lot for this wharf, but you’d promised to do the same in front of the community center, the historical society, and the VFW.”
“I prioritized small business support.” He drilled his finger into the table. “This is where the tourists spend their money when they get off the cruise ships. Money that keeps our town solvent.”
“Money that keeps the Montgomerys solvent, you mean. As your family owns or has a controlling interest in seventy-eight percent of the businesses on the wharf and downtown. But I imagine, to no one’s surprise, your family doesn’t own so much as a smidgen of the community center, the historical society, or the VFW.”
