by Alina Jacobs
The old woman whacked me with her cane.
I bit down a curse.
“You tried? I hope that’s not how you’re having sex with women; you can’t just nose around down there then pop back up with nothing accomplished and complain that you tried, and now you’re tired and giving up. If it takes an hour to get someone off, it takes an hour.”
“Now, Myra,” another older man complained as Remy secured his wheelchair in the back of the bus. “I told you my arthritis acts up this time of year.”
“Both of you,” Myra said, pointing at the older man and me, “need to try harder.”
“It’s only ten,” I complained to Remy after we had finished our third trip of the day.
“Elections are a numbers game,” he reminded me, parking the bus in front of the campaign headquarters. Karen was waiting inside with breakfast. She handed me a sandwich from Sadie’s Between Her Biscuits.
“The polls are looking great for us,” she said happily to me. “And since Mace gave his employees time off to go vote, I suspect that our numbers will start looking even better once the lunch crowd votes and those exit-poll results come in. If you win the majority of the votes in this primary, then you’re automatically the mayor. Otherwise, we head into a runoff.”
“You’re not going to win by enough of a margin,” Blade said in a monotone. He was writing something on his tablet. “I already ran the numbers.”
“Are you serious? With the amount of money we’ve spent on this campaign, that is outrageous,” Garrett said, lip curling back. “Especially considering the fact that one of your opponents is running her campaign out of her garage, and the other is financially destitute.”
“To be fair,” Weston added, “I’m sure Walter is giving Meg a bunch of money in exchange for a very nice thank-you present after she wins.”
There was a time when all it took to keep my little brothers cowering in fear was a well-placed snarl. Now it seemed like they had forgotten who was boss.
“Meg will not be giving Walter thanks for anything,” I said coldly. “And I’m sure you think that you’re being clever, Weston, but since you clearly have extra brain cells on your hand, you can be in charge of the kids during tonight’s victory party.”
“Seems a bit premature,” Garrett remarked.
“I will win. And I will have Meg. I’m not letting this drag out anymore.”
27
Meghan
“I can’t believe Hunter beat me,” I said to Kate later that evening as we watched the TV coverage of the vote counts.
“If Ida hadn’t run,” Kate assured me, “you would totally have won this election with over fifty percent and been the mayor.”
“Still,” I said, feeling hurt, “I thought I was doing a good job as mayor, but only”—I checked the screen—“twenty-two percent of the people in town seem to think so. Even Ida won more votes than me. Maybe I should just let Hunter have the job.”
“No,” Kate scolded. “You need to see it through. The most worthwhile actions in life are rarely easy. That doesn’t mean you quit! I know you’ll be a better mayor than Hunter. The question is, do you believe it?”
Did I? I was tired. I was tired of campaigning and tired generally. I still did not have all the information on my full financial state, and with the election, the clock was ticking.
“Maybe I need to look for a different job,” I said, starting to panic. “You know, just in case Hunter wins.”
“Think positive thoughts,” Kate ordered. “If you behave as if you’ve already lost, you will.”
“But I did lose.”
“You didn’t lose,” Kate reminded me. “You just didn’t win.” We watched Karen on the screen smugly addressing the reporter.
“Of course Hunter Svensson was going to win the highest percentage of votes,” she told the news crew. “People are tired of Meghan Loring. They are tired of the overreaching of the mayoral branch in Harrogate. They are tired of her nagging and her bossiness.”
“She’s one to talk, that manipulative, lying bitch,” I yelled at the screen.
“Have some more wine,” Kate said soothingly. “We’ll go to that Italian place you were telling me about.”
“I can’t show my face in town!” I cried.
“We’ll order in.”
“Yoo-hoo!” Ida knocked on the glass door of the converted shipping container and stuck her head inside.
“I just wanted to tell you that I’m dropping out of the race,” the older woman said. “And I’m telling all my supporters to vote for you. We need a woman in this position!”
“Thanks, Ida,” I said dejectedly, “but I’m not sure it’s going to help.”
She peered at me. “Buck up! Back straight and stick those tatas out. You got this!”
I turned to look at the TV where a handsome, smug Hunter had joined Karen in front of the camera. He wasn’t even pushing her off while she was being all touchy-feely either.
Was something going on between them?
“Gold-digging squid,” Ida said. “They’re playing dirty. And that’s why you need to too.”
“I barely have the time to run a normal campaign,” I said, drinking another gulp of wine.
“I know!” Ida said happily. “That’s why I’m officially starting a super PAC for you!”
“Oh no, I don’t—”
“Need it? Of course you do. Hunter trounced you. It was embarrassing.” Ida wagged her finger. “You’re the incumbent, and he just walked all over you. No, you still need to play the wholesome do-gooder mayor. I’ll be the Hamburglar in the dark twisting his nuts while you sit on his face.”
“Uhh…”
“That’s great if you want to start a super PAC,” Kate said in a rush. “Just remember that legally we can’t coordinate with you.”
Ida tapped the side of her head and winked knowingly. “We never had this conversation.”
“This is going to be a disaster.” I groaned after Ida had left.
“You need a charcuterie platter and some more wine, and tomorrow will be a brand-new day! I already stashed one in your apartment.”
“You knew I was going to lose,” I said miserably, grabbing my purse and the keys to the station wagon.
“I didn’t know you were going to lose,” Kate insisted. “I just figured a charcuterie tray was a safe bet. If I had bought convenience-store snacks, then I would have thought you were going to lose. A meat-and-cheese tray can go either way.” Kate climbed into the passenger’s side and wrinkled her nose. “Why does it smell like a garden pond in here?”
I pointed at the rotting ceiling of the car that was patched with duct tape. “There was a hole in the roof, and now I have a whole ecosystem growing in the back of the car.”
“Walter will buy you a car, I’m sure. I can ask him.”
“No,” I said firmly. “He’s done enough.”
Kate looked at me, bemused. “It’s not like he’s keeping some sort of score that you have to pay back of what he’s given you.”
“I know, I know.”
“He’s a billionaire. This stuff is like, I don’t know, buying you a cheeseburger or something.”
“I know how they operate,” I said bitterly. “Walter’s not the first billionaire I’ve… dated? Seen?”
“So Victorian! Mr. Darcy’s come to call!” Kate giggled.
“This better be a very nice cheese tray,” I warned.
“The best,” Kate assured me.
I was fumbling for the fob to let us into the building when Karen waltzed out.
I looked at her suspiciously. “Why are you here?”
Karen smiled triumphantly. “I live in this building. Hunter gave me an apartment here, so don’t start thinking you’re going to call your dyke police officer friend.”
“That was rude and uncalled for,” I reprimanded. “Susie is not a lesbian, not that there’s anything wrong with that.”
“I’m sure Hunter’s campaign does not want bigots in cha
rge,” Kate added, crossing her arms.
“Good luck proving it to him,” Karen said, tossing her hair. “It’s your word, the word of a sore loser, against mine, that of a winner.” She struck a pose. “Like my dress? Hunter bought it for me. I went home to change and put on a little something to give him an extra-special after-victory party celebration.”
“You’re having a party?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.
Karen smirked.
“Seems a bit premature,” I said, recovering.
“Hardly,” Karen said with a laugh. “The next election is just a formality. We did exit polls. More of Ida’s voters said they would pick Hunter over you if they had to choose.”
Shit.
“Ta!” Karen said. “Enjoy your evening losers.”
I dragged myself up the stairs, following Kate, who was waving a wine bottle at me to try to get me to move faster. My phone went off as I was fiddling with the keys to unlock my apartment door.
“Hot date?” Kate asked.
“No…” I frowned, reading the email. “It’s Frank from the bank. He said he’s trying to process a mortgage for his cousin and his cousin’s wife, but they’re missing a piece of paperwork from the city.”
“Not sure how you can help.”
“He wanted me to file it with the city tonight as a favor for them, or they’re going to lose the house to the next bidder, which is surprise, surprise, one of the Svenssons’ shell LLCs.” I unlocked the door.
“That sucks.” Kate waltzed into my apartment and flopped on the bed.
“I know exactly which form it is. It’s the 4020 instead of the 1460-D. People constantly confuse those. One of the things I had wanted to do was to streamline some of these forms. But hey, if they’d rather have Karen and Hunter, then they can suffer.” I fiddled with my purse strap in the doorway.
Kate gave me a knowing look. “Are you going to get them the form?”
I shut the door and pulled the cheese tray out of the fridge. “I shouldn’t keep doing favors for people.” I ate a slice of cheese and prosciutto then turned on my printer. “I bet they didn’t even vote for me.”
“She says as she prints out the forms!” Kate teased.
“Maybe I’ll turn it in in the morning,” I replied, setting the papers on the counter and eating more cheese. Kate grabbed them.
“They definitely voted for Hunter,” Kate said, checking Facebook. “The dude and his wife are at the big victory party.”
“Serves them right if Hunter takes their house.”
“Aw, the post before is how happy they are to have their new home. They have a corgi!” Kate squealed, holding up the laptop.
“Ugh, I wanted a dog. Uncle Barry always claimed he didn’t like them. Now I have nothing.”
“You have a cricket.” Kate pointed.
“Gross!” I shrieked and opened the window to shoo it outside.
Kate handed me the form. “Filled it all out for you, and I put your notary stamp in your purse.”
“Fuck,” I grumbled, grabbing my bag.
The party was in full swing when I went to the town square. The Svenssons must have spent a fortune on the alcohol alone. People were wasted.
“You’re crashing the party?” Susie asked me when she saw me walking down the sidewalk. She was leaning against her police cruiser.
“There was a form mix-up. I need a few signatures. Have you seen a couple with a corgi?”
Susie pointed.
“Also, Kate bought wine and enough cheese and cured meat to feed an army, if you’re interested after your shift.”
“Are there olives?”
“Of course there are olives!”
Frank’s cousin and his new wife were dancing happily to the pulsing dance music that was blaring out of the speakers. They started when I tapped them on the shoulder.
“You have the wrong form!” I yelled over the music.
The wife seemed confused, then her eyes widened as I explained that they were going to lose their house.
“I thought we had everything in!” Frank’s cousin fretted. “What do we do?”
“It will be fine,” I assured him. “I filled out the correct one. I just need you both to sign.”
The corgi raised himself up on his stubby legs and started licking my purse. I tried to shoo him away as I fished out my notary stamp while the two signed the form.
“So we’re not going to lose the house?” his wife said anxiously.
“Nope. I’ll have this filed with the city tonight and give Frank the ID number, then you should be good to go,” I said as I stamped the form and signed it.
The corgi was back pawing at me. The couple looked at me, clearly guilty.
“I’m sorry,” the wife said in a rush, “we didn’t vote for you.”
“It’s fine,” I said, resigned, still trying to shove the corgi off me.
“We’re voting for you next time, though, right, honey?” Frank’s cousin assured me.
But his wife screamed, and Frank’s cousin yelled, “There’s a cricket on your head!” And he swatted at me.
28
Hunter
“Excellent turnout,” Karen purred, sidling up to me with two drinks. “Thought you needed a little extra celebration.”
In truth, I was tired of celebrating. I had just finished talking to a number of well-wishers. A part of me kept surveying the crowd, hoping Meg would show up, but that was crazy. There was no way she was coming to a victory party for me, the person who had beat her this round and, if the exit polls were correct, would beat her in the runoff election. Besides, if I was watching the crowd, I needed to be focused on my younger brothers. The teenagers seemed hell-bent on breaking all the rules. I should have left them at home.
“Do you like my dress?” Karen asked as I absently sipped the drink while doing a quick head count. One of my brothers was missing.
“Yeah,” I said, automatically glancing down then back out to the crowd.
“Recognize this dress?” Karen asked coyly.
I glanced back at her again. “Should I?”
“You bought it, silly!”
I frowned.
“Well,” she said, nudging me, “I bought it with the money you paid me! You have to admit,” she went on, “I’m a great campaign manager.”
“We spent so much money on it; I’m actually a bit disappointed it didn’t go any better,” I said, still peering into the crowd. Was that Meg? Maybe I was hallucinating. She had been haunting my dreams more than usual.
“Let’s go talk to the senator,” Karen said abruptly, maneuvering herself in front of me.
I turned but caught a familiar silhouette in the distance. “Did Meghan actually come?” I asked in disbelief.
“I know! Isn’t it the saddest thing!” Karen chattered. “The senator…”
Just leave Meghan alone.
But she didn’t look like she was here for a good time. Instead, she was in an intense conversation with a man. Then, he suddenly reached out to hit her.
Fuck no.
I barreled through the crowd in time to hear Meg scream.
“Don’t fucking touch her!” I roared, grabbing Meg’s attacker.
A girl with a corgi started screaming.
“Don’t kill me. Please don’t kill me!” Meg’s attacker begged.
“You should have thought of that before you laid a hand on her,” I snarled, holding him up by his shirt collar.
“Hunter, what is wrong with you?” Meg screeched. “You can’t just run around attacking people.”
“He hit you,” I spat out.
“He was removing the cricket out of my hair because apparently, the apartment in the building you own is infested with insects!” she snapped, trying to smooth her hair back down.
I let the man go, and he jumped back, red-faced.
“See?” he said, holding out his hand. “Cricket.” The insect chirped at me, then the corgi bounced up and ate it with a snap out of t
he man’s hand.
I gagged. And this is why I am not letting the kids have a dog.
“I don’t know why you’re so disgusted,” Meg hissed, picking her bag up off the pavement. “Your little brothers eat cat food.”
“You feed your little brothers cat food with all your money?” the young woman demanded, shoving her husband behind her and shaking her finger at me. The corgi looked at me reproachfully. “I wish I hadn’t voted for you now.”
“He does not feed his little brothers cat food,” Karen called out, rushing over to the crowd that had formed around us.
“Not willingly anyway,” I muttered.
Meg snorted.
“They ate it of their own free will! I couldn’t stop them!”
Meg raised an eyebrow.
“Honestly, anyone who has small children in their care knows that things happen,” I said, trying to calm down the angry onlookers.
“Yeah,” one older woman said, “but cat food?”
“They smelled atrocious,” Meg announced then turned to me. “I hope they puked in your bed.”
“We’ll plan a nice photo op with your brothers to get ahead of this controversy,” Karen assured me, trying to lead me away.
“Holy smokes. Nothing worse than trying to take a family photo in the Svensson household.”
“The senator…”
“Yeah, can you tell him I’ll be a minute?” I said to Karen.
I grabbed Meg by the arm before she could leave. “You crashed my party.”
“I came by on official city business,” she replied, shaking me off and heading toward the sidewalk. I loped in front of her.
She stopped and crossed her arms. “Are you waiting on me to congratulate you?”
“If you’re offering for a super-special congratulations, I’m not going to say no!” I gave her my sexiest smoldering gaze.
“Hm,” Meg said thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t want to steal Karen’s thunder. She’s all dressed up for you. And besides, since you’re buying her outfits and places to live, then I’m sure she’s practically dripping with the desire to make it up to you.”