by Cat Johnson
“The governor’s here.”
That explained the big black limo and the security detail but not much else.
I frowned. “The governor? Why?”
“Don’t know. Shh. He’s talking.”
After being shushed I had enough of talking to this stranger and sought the crowd for someone I knew to get some real answers because so far, all I had was more questions.
I spotted Boone. Since he was the one who’d summoned me and had started me on this whirlwind of worry and wonder, I made my way through the crowd and over to stand next to him.
Unfortunately he was way up front, much too close to the podium and the governor and the press and cameras for my introverted self to be comfortable.
Having no other choice, I rose on tip toe to be closer to his ear and asked as softly as I could, “What is going on?”
Boone tipped his head down toward mine and whispered, “Surprise visit.”
By the governor of New York State? To the Morgan’s farm stand? Yes, I would say it was a surprise all around.
Boone’s answer didn’t help much. I decided this situation deserved a follow-up question. “Why?”
He shrugged. “Because he’s up for reelection?”
Well, that explained the timing but not the purpose. There were what? Less than a thousand residents of voting age in Mudville. It seemed an odd choice for a political rally.
Though with all the press here, this impromptu event would be spread far and wide.
I listened to what he was saying and began to see a pattern. Small business. Local farmers. Collaborations.
“What do I want you to do? What’s the purpose of this trip, you’re wondering, when I could be in Albany working?” the governor asked the crowd. “Well, that’s simple. I want every citizen of New York State to eat, drink, and shop local. And the best way to get that point across is to lead by example.”
“How did he find you guys here?” I asked.
We all loved the Morgans, and they got a good bit of traffic—good for a small business in Mudville—but they weren’t exactly known far and wide.
“One of his aides saw our Instagram and decided to check us out.”
“That’s amazing.”
“I know, right?” He grinned, looking thrilled while I realized that I needed to up my Instagram game.
“Let’s take some questions. Shall we?” The governor glanced around from his place up on a makeshift stage.
Things got even more surreal when I looked closer and saw what he was standing on appeared to have been thrown together with wooden skids and the carpet from the Morgan’s living room.
I could just picture the family getting the word last minute and having to scramble to get ready.
Stone must be losing his mind about now. He loved carpentry work and building things. He’d built Harper the most adorable little library for in front of Agnes’s house. That the governor was standing on skids for a stage would be appalling to Stone.
I glanced Stone’s direction and saw the very serious expression on his face. And how his gaze kept dropping to the governor’s feet as if waiting for the whole thing beneath him to collapse. I didn’t blame him.
“Governor!” The reporters in the crowd raised their hands and shouted.
“Yes.” He pointed to one.
“What official actions will you be taking to guarantee collaboration between the local businesses and the small farmers?”
“What official actions will I be taking to guarantee the collaboration between the business and farmers,” he repeated. “I don’t like that word guarantee. We can’t guarantee anything without forcing the issue through legislation. This initiative is meant to help everyone, not become a burden on them. Words matter. I think I prefer to think of it as how can we promote collaboration. Encourage collaboration. You know I grew up a city boy. So it would be foolish for me to believe I know what the small farmers upstate need in terms of support and motivation. Right? Which is part of the reason for this trip. To speak to them directly—the small business owners, the small family farmers. We have one right here. Perhaps we should take advantage of that and ask him.”
The governor turned to Stone and I saw his eyes widen with surprised panic.
“Where are your parents? Or your aunt and uncle?” I hissed to Boone.
“They’re all in the frigging Poconos having fun. We found out about this like two hours ago. There was no time for them to get back.”
My eyes widened as I realized that as the oldest Morgan here, this was all on Stone.
I saw Harper’s car swing into the driveway. She came running up to the back of the crowd just as Stone stepped up to the microphone.
I’d been wondering why she wasn’t here. She must have silenced her phone again and missed the news. Stone’s gaze hit briefly on her before he turned to the governor. He looked nervous. I held my breath for him.
“Well, sir. I’m happy to say here in Mudville we’ve already started collaborating on our own, without any incentives from Albany. A man from New York City, actually, is reopening the diner and the restaurant in the hotel on Main Street,” Stone began.
He was talking about Brandon. My heartrate sped.
Stone continued, “He’s agreed to buy his meat and dairy from local farmers. His baked goods are coming from the bakery in town too.”
I couldn’t help but smile at the mention of Honey Buns.
Boone leaned down. “Too bad he didn’t get the name in there.”
I couldn’t agree more. But Stone was doing a great job. An amazing job. He was doing the whole town proud. I couldn’t wish for more than that.
“In fact,” Stone went on. “This investor actually went one further and is bringing in students from the local college’s culinary department so they can train in a real operation. That’s all in town, but just outside of the village proper there’s a local hops grower who’s brewing beer. He and his partners are selling it along with hard cider made at another local place. And the food he serves is all sourced locally.”
“You seem to be doing pretty well coordinating on your own.” The governor looked impressed.
“Yes, sir. Of course, if you wanted to give us small businesses a tax break for collaborating, I wouldn’t say no.” Stone grinned.
The governor laughed. “I’m sure you wouldn’t.”
Stone sobered. “But to answer the question of what you can do, I’m sure some places could use grants or small business loans to help get set up to do the same thing we’re doing.”
“I’ll take your suggestions under advisement.” The governor turned toward the crowd again. “More questions?”
I felt like I could finally breathe and stop worrying for Stone.
Stone looked a whole lot relieved too. So did Harper as she worked her way to the front and pressed close to me.
“What the fuck?” she asked softly. “How did this happen?”
“I don’t know. It’s crazy.”
Red and Cash were stuck on the other side of the governor. I caught Red’s gaze and mouthed the word, “Wow.”
She cringed and mouthed back. “I know.”
Mudville was always crazy, but this might be the first time we’d had it broadcast statewide.
The questions continued until finally the governor called for the last question, answered it, then said goodbye to the crowd, stepping down off the makeshift stage.
When he reached the ground, he turned to Stone. “Do you have five minutes to talk?” he asked.
Stone’s deer in headlights expression was back as he nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Oh, boy,” I mumbled, then glanced to Harper.
She didn’t look any more confident than Stone had. She turned to Boone. “Go be with him. He looks nervous.
Boone’s eyes widened. “Me? What am I supposed to say?”
“I don’t know,” she squeaked.
By the time they’d argued about whether Boone should or shouldn’t accompany his br
other, the two men had gone off together, disappearing out the back door of the farm stand.
Harper blew out a breath. “Just when I start to think Mudville can’t surprise me anymore, something like this happens.”
Boone snorted. “If that’s what you’re waiting for, you can stop. Because I was born here and I can tell you, Mudville still surprises the fuck out of me all the damn time.”
He was right. Mudville was crazy. It should be our town motto. I could see it now. #MudvilleCrazy. Harper could print up T-shirts and bumper stickers.
While things got even stranger as it appeared like Stone and the Governor of New York State were now exchanging phone numbers, Boone turned to meet my gaze. “You should probably warn your boyfriend Stone’s talking about him to the governor.”
My boyfriend. I swatted down the flurry of glee that took flight in me at that word and I nodded because Boone was absolutely right. I needed to tell Brandon.
Mudville crazy . . .
THIRTY
Brandon
I squinted at the strange number on my cell. I didn’t recognize it but that was nothing new. I used this phone for business and personal so it could be anyone. That it was a New York area code didn’t answer any questions so the only thing to do was answer it.
“Hello.”
“Hi. I’m looking for Brandon Webster.”
“This is Brandon.”
“Hi. This is Andrew Cuomo.”
My brows rose. This could not be the governor of New York calling me on my cell phone. It must just be someone with the same name. Meanwhile, my phone vibrated with a call but, of course, I couldn’t answer.
I let it go to voicemail as I recovered my composure and asked, “How can I help you?”
“Excuse me if we get cut off. I’m in the car heading back to Albany and reception is spotty.”
Albany? My mouth dropped open. Could this actually be the governor?
The voice sure as hell sounded like him. As a resident of New York State, of course I’d heard him speak plenty of times. That still didn’t answer what the hell this was about.
“Um, okay,” I said, hoping if I waited long enough an explanation would present itself.
“I heard about some of your investments upstate. I’d love to talk to you about your properties in Mudville and any other projects you have going on.”
Um, why?
“Oh. Um, I’m not sure what you’re looking for. I’m not a real estate investor or developer or anything like that.”
“You’re not?”
“No. I just saw the old buildings for sale and really liked them. I’m kind of a history buff. And I love old architecture. It breaks my heart when places like that sit vacant and start to fall into disrepair.”
“Really? Interesting. So if real estate isn’t your work, what do you do? If you don’t mind my asking.”
“I co-own Datalytics,” I answered. “We’re a—”
“Oh, I know what you are. And I’m aware of your work.”
“You are?”
And was that a good thing or a bad thing? The governor wasn’t giving me much to go on.
“Sure. I like to keep up on these things. You’re doing some good work, considering what’s been happening.”
Teddygate. No doubt he’d heard. Everyone had.
“Uh. Yes, sir. It’s been exciting,” I confessed.
“No doubt. Are you taking on new clients or are you maxed out?”
“Oh, we are most definitely not maxed out.”
“Good. I’d like to meet to discuss my own campaign for reelection.”
My cell buzzed again in my hand. I forced myself to ignore it and said, “I’d love to meet. Name the place and time.”
“I won’t be back in the city for another week.”
“I can come to you in Albany, if that will help,” I offered.
“That would be a help, yes. Does Monday work for you? Nine?”
Hell, I’d make it work if it didn’t. “Monday definitely works. I’ll see you at nine. Um, sir, can I ask one thing?”
“Sure. Shoot.”
“How did you know about my purchasing the buildings in Mudville?”
“Stone Morgan spoke very highly of you. He told me what you’re doing with sourcing the food locally for your businesses. That’s what I originally called you about—your possibly sitting on an advisory board for a New York State small business, local farmer collaboration initiative.”
“Wow, yeah, that sounds great. Anything you need from me, I’m happy to help.”
First on the order of business would be to come up with a better name for his initiative. I’d already started to rearrange words and possible acronyms in my head.
“Good. Good. We’ll discuss it Monday. I’ll have my aide text you the information for the meeting.”
“Thank you, sir. See you then.”
He disconnected and I could finally find out what was with the call and multiple texts I’d ignored.
They all were from Bethany. I tapped one of the alerts to call her back.
“Oh my God, you’re not going to believe who was here,” she said when she answered.
“The governor?” I asked, smiling.
“He called you already? Or did you see the news conference coverage at the farm?”
A news conference. In Mudville? At the farm? This I had to see. I set my fingers to keyboard and searched as I said, “He called.”
“Isn’t this crazy?”
“That’s one word for it.” I laughed. That he wanted to talk to me about the diner and restaurant would qualify as that on its own. But that I might be taking him on as a client because of that was even more so.
I was going to have to tell Josh.
“It’s no fun that you knew,” Bethany said, bringing me back to the conversation. “I was excited to tell you.”
I could hear the pout in her tone and smiled. “How about I make it up to you when I see you?”
There were a couple of ways I could think of that we’d both enjoy.
“When will that be?” she asked.
In three hours if I had my way. That thought showed just how far my work ethic had fallen.
I had another day and a half of work to complete, including a meeting with our biggest client. But the weekend wasn’t all that far away.
“Saturday. Late morning. I’ll be there in time to take you out to an early lunch.”
“At the Mudville Diner?” she asked. “I heard the owner makes some mean french fries.”
I laughed. “I’m hoping the kitchen staff will be doing the cooking instead of me but yeah, the diner sounds good.”
Russ had confirmed that the soft opening was this weekend.
We would quietly open the doors and set the OPEN sign out in front along Main Street. No fanfare. No advertising.
This would be kind of a dress rehearsal in preparation for the big grand opening we’d advertise for the following weekend.
The thought had my pulse racing. This was really happening. I was the owner of a legit diner that would be open and operating, serving the general public in just days.
It was hard to wrap my head around that.
“I’m looking forward to it,” Bethany said softly and I heard the words she hadn’t spoken. She was looking forward to seeing me again.
“Ditto,” I said with a smile.
There’d been a lot of new things in my life I’d had to get used to lately, and Bethany was without a doubt one of them.
Glancing at the four walls of the office that had comprised the bulk of my world for the past couple of years, I was definitely not complaining about the recent changes in my life.
Not one little bit.
I leaned back in my insanely expensive ergonomic leather chair. “So, how’s my cat? Did you see Muddy today?”
My cat. Those were words I’d never thought I’d utter. Nor had I thought I’d be asking them of my girlfriend.
“I went over to feed him this morning.
He was laid out on top of the dumpster sunning himself.”
“Sounds about right.” I laughed.
As crazy as it seemed, I wished I was there with him.
THIRTY-ONE
Bethany
By the time Saturday morning rolled around, I was exhausted and so excited I couldn’t sit still. Five a.m. I was up and at the bakery, mainlining coffee as I baked today’s goods and prepped tomorrow’s.
I didn’t want anything on my schedule except for Brandon. If that meant twelve-plus hour days at Honey Buns to prepare, so be it.
And that didn’t include what I’d done at home.
Seeing my house through his eyes, I realized how many things I’d let go. The nicked and peeling paint on the doorframes. The dust on those shelves that were so high I couldn’t see them but Brandon sure could. The bath towels that I’d had for so long they were rough and worn thin. The leaves from last fall that were still in front of the house, only now spring flowers had popped through them.
All of that was on my To Do list this week.
Somehow, I’d managed to get it all done. Plus I’d made time to get my hair trimmed and the color touched up, both the blonde highlights and the blue—the color was growing on me.
Having Ruby do my hair was my one indulgence. Given the addition of Brandon to my life, I’d had to splurge on something else too—some more pretty undies. He would have quickly noticed I only owned one pair that were not granny panties, so I grabbed a couple of things at Red’s.
I smiled at the thought of unveiling my new purchases to him. I had a feeling we wouldn’t be getting to that early lunch until late.
When Adele arrived this morning I’d go home, get changed, and wait for Brandon there. It had been a long week. I was more than ready to see him.
I glanced at the clock. Since I’d had three cups of coffee already and the fourth was sitting next to me half empty, I shouldn’t be surprised it was already nine.
I was pretty much a cup an hour girl in the morning when I was working. Like some sort of caffeine-run sundial, I could judge what time it was by the number of cups I’d consumed.
Adele would be here by ten. I figured Brandon would leave the city by seven and be here around ten as well. The timing couldn’t be more perfect.