Page 97 of Hottie on Her Shelf
“No, Fitz, it is a very useful piece of information. You can immediately begin spreading that morsel around so that Swan Cove realizes a Scott isn’t qualified to handle the town finances. That will guarantee you the win.”
Oh hell. The bankruptcy must be the scoop that the Gazette’s editor tried to share…
Then it hit Fitz. One of his parents must be who gave the scoop to Bronson. He didn’t know which was worse: digging it up in the first place or trying to spread it around like poison.
It was wrong on so many levels.
Fitz didn’t believe in dirty politics. Didn’t believe in turning over every single private piece of a person’s life to try and find the few times they’d been human and made an error in judgment. You didn’t win by making the other guy look bad. You won an election by making yourself look appealing to the voters.
He wanted to blame it on that little creep Derek, but this had his father’s fingerprints all over it, too.
Not to mention that Hallie’s dad in no way deserved to have his name blackened, his secret outed. Mr. Scott wasn’t the one running for public office.
This was a shitshow, no matter how you looked at it.
And if his mom could bring it up from her hospital bed? Well, he’d damn well end it right here, too.
Fitz stood, flipped the chair back around into its original spot, then shoved his hands in his pockets. “I don’t want a guaranteed win. I only want to remain mayor if I earn it, which I won’t do employing these tactics.”
Caroline’s head flopped back against the pillow. “Why must you make everything harder on yourself? This is just like when you made friends with that exchange student your junior year. You would’ve had a stellar final project if his limited command of English hadn’t held you back. We offered to get you paired with someone else, but you insisted on helping the underdog.”
“You don’t slough off less than perfect people. Min was great. We learned a lot from each other. He didn’t hold me back.” Fitz cocked his head. “You know he lives here now? Works up at Cygnet Labs. I helped them lure him here after he got his doctorate at MIT.”
“The point is, we can finish this farce of a campaign with a few simple sentences whispered in the right ears.”
“It’s only a farce if you interfere with it. Democracy, Mom, the thing I’m supposed to be protecting.”
“You’re protecting the family legacy.”
Nope.
Not anymore, because a legacy stained with wrongdoings wasn’t something he wanted to uphold or protect anymore. The thing with Uncle Jeremiah was bad. What if it wasn’t the first such incident?
The impossible weight of family history lifted right off Fitz’s shoulders.
Aaaaand he was done with his mom’s guilt and guiding, too.
Done with her machinations. Done with the impossible task of pleasing her. Fitz would send her the obligatory flowers. He’d even go down the Google rabbit hole about MS, because Caroline was his mother.
But he was absolutely done with letting her run his life. Fitz wasn’t entirely certain how to stop her. That was a problem for another day. The intent was what mattered now.
“You keep making this about the family name instead of what’s best for Swan Cove. As the mayor—at least for now—I won’t stand for your games. I’ve already shut down Bronson. I won’t use the information on Gene Scott, and I’d better not hear a single person alluding that they know about it. I’m genuinely sorry about your stress, but I’m not stealing this election. I’m not letting you and Dad do it, either.”
Fitz kissed her forehead in farewell and tuned out the sharp words his mother hurled at him as he headed back into the hallway.
He didn’t want a single voter to check the ballot box because of his name. And he didn’t want the conditional love from his parents to be only because he shared that name. It was tempting to put the same ultimatum in front of his father, except Fitz had no clue how to enforce it, how to put a hammer behind his words.
Hallie probably had some good Norse myth stories about Thor and his hammer she’d share if she were here.
What a mess, especially when he remembered Hallie broke up with him because of his name. Kind of made him want to rip off the monogrammed cufflinks at his wrists and chuck them into the Atlantic.
And there were still five days until the election. Five days to figure out how to make the expansion still palatable to his town while protecting another, even if nobody else cared. Fitz had to take a stand, which could make him persona non grata around here.
What the hell else could go wrong?
