by Lucy Score
“Thought you’d changed your mind,” Eden drawled.
Davis placed the two wine glasses on the white washed pedestal table between their chairs. With a flourish, he unpocketed the corkscrew and made quick work of opening the bottle of merlot. She watched his every move, guarded. Wordlessly, he poured. Silently, she accepted the glass he offered.
He considered it an even bigger win when she sipped rather than tossing the wine in his face. Companionably, he sat, relaxing into the chair and picking up the book. “What are you reading?”
Rather than snarling at him, Eden held up the cover of the binder.
“Beautification Committee? Are you studying up for your membership test?” he teased.
“Har har,” she said, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. She was dressed comfortably in leggings and a long cardigan over a jewel-toned tank. Her bare feet were tucked up under her on the deep seat. A pair of soft gray slippers was neatly stowed beneath her chair. She painted the perfect picture of a quiet evening. Davis itched to paint her that way. “I liberated it from Eva’s bag when she was here last week so I can figure out how to stop their idiotic plans.”
Davis laughed. “Who’s the unlucky target this time?”
“Let’s see how funny you think it is when I tell you that you’re one half of their current target.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You and me, Gates.” She sipped again and gave the smallest nod of approval at the wine he’d poured. “They’re taking advantage of your homelessness and trying to force us together.”
“Huh,” Davis said, cracking open his book.
“Huh? That’s the best you’ve got? There’s an entire committee scheming against you, and all you’ve got is ‘huh’?”
Davis gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Well, you can’t blame them. Not only have our families terrorized this whole town for fifty-plus years, you and I are both ridiculously good-looking.”
Eden gave him a long blank stare before her laughter won out. It was a night of wins, Davis decided.
He shifted his attention to page one. “How did it go with Mr. Forgot His Anniversary this week?” he asked.
“Mmm, it’s safe to say the Mrs. is appeased and he’ll never forget another anniversary again. He can’t afford it.”
“I wondered when I didn’t see them around the inn.”
“They never made it out of their room,” Eden said innocently.
“Must have been some gift.”
Eden told him about the gift she and Wilson Abramovich had selected for the wife, a lovely crescent moon pendant with a tiny blue diamond. “And, if the bill for the jewelry isn’t enough of a deterrent, I also had a very manly leather and metal bracelet engraved with their anniversary date for him.”
Davis’s lips quirked. “You’re very good at what you do.”
“Thank you.” It was a simple acknowledgement of what she already knew to be true.
He sipped and gathered his wits to recite the speech he’d been waiting to give for fifteen years. He closed his book. “Eden, I never meant to hurt you, you know. I wanted to be at that dance with you,” he said.
He saw the shutters come down in the tension that tightened her shoulders. She turned the page in her binder, feigning disinterest. “Then why weren’t you?” she asked, picking at the binder’s spine.
“My parents—”
“You know what. Forget I asked,” she decided.
“I wish you could forgive me. I forgave you,” he pointed out rashly. This was not part of his carefully planned speech.
She gazed at him, her face a mask, but he could see the emotions moving fast and sharp behind her blue eyes.
“You forgave me?”
“Frankly, I deserved worse,” Davis admitted.
“Hmm.” It was all she gave him. But it was better than a blistering speech about his teenage shortcomings. Of course he’d regretted letting his parents bully him into taking someone more “suitable.” It was his MO, making other people happy—especially his parents.
“I was eighteen… painfully stupid,” he began.
“Let’s just go back to that whole not talking thing,” she said flatly, her tone leaving no room for argument.
He let her have this round, not completely willing to piss off his hostess who had very generously opened her guest room to him.
They sat in silence, each pretending to read while lost in thought. Eden nudged the small plate of cookies toward him without looking up. He accepted the offering and bit into a cookie.
“Dear God, woman. What are these?” he asked, reaching for another one.
“Cappuccino cookies. Did you mean what you said at Aurora’s party?” She blurted the words out and he knew she must have been mulling them over since he spoke them.
He nodded. “I’m very attracted to you, Eden. You’re a beautiful, amazing woman. You’ve built this entire business from nothing. You were willing to overlook fifty years of feuding to give me a place to stay. Can you blame me for being dazzled?”
“Maybe the Beautification Committee is dabbling in pheromones or something. Doesn’t it bother you that there are people out there pulling strings to make you do something you don’t want to do?” Eden asked.
Davis gave it some thought. “You aren’t something I don’t want to do. And maybe the B.C. has our best interests at heart. I can see the benefit of someone calling the shots when you don’t know what you want or what’s best for you.”
“You’re a grown man, Gates. I think you can make decisions for yourself,” she said dryly. “And there’s no way in hell that I’m what’s best for you.”
One of the dogs gave a low rumble in their sleep.
Davis weighed Eden’s words. He’d always been more interested in going with the flow than standing up and taking what he wanted. Really, what did he want that he didn’t already have? A challenging job in the town he’d always loved. A family that—though annoying and disturbingly set in their ways—cared for him and wanted to see him happy. A loose circle of entertaining friends. He had all that plus purpose, community.
But what if there was more? And what if she was sitting next to him?
Eden sat up, her spine ramrod straight as she held up the binder. “Yes!” She jumped up, jamming her fist in the air. “Suck it Beautification Committee! I just solved our problem. There’s no way they can match us now.”
Reluctantly, Davis raised his hand for the high-five she offered.
“We’ll be free of each other in no time,” she said taking a celebratory swallow of her wine.
BEAUTIFICATION COMMITTEE GUIDELINES
SECTION Alpha Lima Echo B32: CONTESTING YOUR MATCH
It’s best that matchees remain unaware of their right to contest their match.
20
Eden hid out in the classic literature section of the library’s first floor, wanting the element of surprise to be in her favor. When Eva wandered by the stacks digging through her bag, dressed in jeans and a baggy sweater, Eden nabbed her.
“Looking for this?” She shoved the Beautification Committee binder in Eva’s face.
“Damn it! How did you get that?” Eva demanded, snatching it out of Eden’s hand. “I’m in so much trouble if they find out that a non-committee member got their hands on the rules and regulations.”
“Relax, you didn’t leave it lying around. I stole it out of your bag while you were busy puking in my umbrella stand.”
“Sorry about that again,” Eva blushed.
“Can we stay focused, please? I’m here to invoke my right to Section 718, Subparagraph G,” Eden announced.
Eva stared at her blankly. “Your right to choose your own match?” she asked.
“No! Wait, that’s a thing?” Eden reached for the binder again. “Because I’ve got some strong feelings for Gerard Butler.”
Eva fended off Eden’s hands. “No! Bad! I can’t believe you stole this from me! What does Section Whatever Paragraph Alphabet say?”
“Section 718, Subparagraph G states that I can dissent my match.”
“Oh. That Section 718,” Eva said, flipping pages. “I’m new to the committee, but I have a feeling this has never happened before.”
“Because you jerks don’t tell people they’re allowed to fight the matches!”
“Well, no one’s ever needed to fight a match before. I mean, come on, Eden. We’ve got a perfect record. That has to count for something.”
“Davis and I do not belong together. We don’t even like each other.”
Eva looked over her shoulder to make sure no one was eavesdropping. “Look, whatever you do, just promise me you won’t tell them that I’m the weak link who delivered committee secrets to a reluctant matchee.”
“Fine,” Eden said. “Go up. I’m going to wait until the meeting gets started before storming in and dissenting all over the place.”
“Hey, guys!” Eva’s sister Gia poked her head around the bookshelf. “What’s going on?”
Eden and Eva shared a long look.
“It’s probably better if you don’t know,” Eva decided.
Eden felt like an idiot pressing her ear against the conference room door listening for her cue. But it couldn’t be helped. If she wanted her future to be free of well-meaning, ill-informed string pulling, she needed to present her case in exactly the right way.
And then she would be free of Davis Gates forever. No more bumping into him outside her quarters. No more eye contact over eggs at breakfast. No more watching him romp with the dogs in the yard. Eden’s resolve wavered for a moment, before she gathered her wits about her. She just wanted to go back to the way things were before Davis moved in under her roof.
“Are there any public comments?” Eden heard Bruce Oakleigh’s muffled voice through the door. That was her cue. She turned the knob and pushed. And in her haste, she tripped over her own feet, stumbling into the room. She didn’t stop until she caught herself on the snack table, sending a dozen pink iced cupcakes tumbling to the floor.
“Awh.” Gordon Berkowicz, a slim figure in unwashed tie-dye, lamented the sugary loss from across the room. The tables were set up in a U-shape with everyone facing a large whiteboard where Bruce wielded colored markers and a shocked expression.
Gordon’s wife, Rainbow, an intimidating figure in pinstripes, gaped like a guppy at Eden. As bank president in the hippie-est town in the Northeast, it took a lot to surprise Rainbow.
Eva had her face buried behind her hands, but the rest of the committee stared in confusion.
“Eden, you can’t be here,” Bruce gasped. If the man had worn a string of pearls, he would have been clutching them.
Ellery’s dark purple lips were pressed in a thin line, her eyes wide with surprise. “Is the building on fire? Do we need to evacuate?”
A murmur went up around the room and Gordon bolted from his seat. “Oh my God! I think this shirt is flammable!” He ripped off the long-sleeve tie-dye and tossed it on the floor. He nearly trampled Amethyst Oakleigh, Bruce’s beehived wife—who actually was clutching her pearls.
“There’s no fire,” Eden shouted over the commotion.
Rainbow grabbed her husband by the belt and yanked him off of the windowsill.
“I have a public comment,” Eden announced righting herself and accidentally smearing pink icing down the front of her black turtleneck. She fished her index cards out of her back pocket and cleared her throat. “I hereby officially voice my dissent for my match.”
That got a bigger reaction than when they thought the building was on fire. Amethyst swooned into the arms of the unsuspecting Wilson Abramovich. Bruce bent at the waist to suck in shuddering gasps of air.
Gordon picked up a cupcake off of the floor and bit into it wrapper and all.
Bobby, the unflappable proprietress of Peace of Pizza, sat calmly like a goddess waiting to deliver judgment. While Ellery anxiously flipped through her binder, Eva was very busy studying her fingernails and not making eye contact with anyone. Her sister Gia sent her worried looks.
“According to Section 718, Subparagraph G, I have the right to petition the committee to cease and desist in their matching actions.”
Binders slapped open and pages were turned with panicked enthusiasm.
“Holy crap,” Ellery gasped. “That’s a thing. She can do that.”
A collective gasp went up around the room.
“How did you even know there was a Section 718?” Bruce demanded, grabbing at his graying hair until it stood out in tufts behind his ears.
“How did you know you were a match?” Rainbow asked.
Eden pointed toward the whiteboard.
EDEN + DAVIS = LOVE
She glanced at Eva who had her eyes squeezed shut tight. What had recently begun as an investigative assignment to infiltrate the Beautification Committee had turned into real loyalty somewhere along the way. Eden almost felt sorry for her friend. Almost.
“Per the Town Ordinance 17-06 of 1985, I observed suspicious activity at a committee member’s home and let myself in,” Eden lied. Blue Moon had an oddly specific ordinance granting townsfolk access to their neighbor’s homes. “This binder was readily available, and while I made sure there was no imminent danger, I just happened to open the binder to Page 336.”
“What danger did you think you witnessed?” Bruce demanded shrewdly.
“Um. Squirrels?” Eden hadn’t quite worked out that part of the lie.
“Amethyst! I told you not to leave your binder lying around. This is why we have the fire safe in the basement!” Apparently, Bruce and Amethyst had a squirrel problem at home.
Amethyst hung her silvery beehive in shame.
“Let’s not point fingers here,” Eden said hastily. “I would like to present my case for being unmatched.”
“Huddle!” Bruce called shrilly. The committee members abandoned their chairs and huddled up in front of the whiteboard. A heated conversation took place with the occasional head poking up out of their circle to look at Eden.
After a good three minutes of huddling, the committee members broke apart.
“We will now hear your dissent,” Ellery said regally.
Eden consulted her index cards. “I would like to void this match based on the grounds that there are no mutual feelings of affection, that the match would exacerbate current emotional distress, and that the match was proposed as a way to benefit the community rather than based on the needs of the couple.”
Bruce covered his face with his hands and let out a moan while the remaining committee members broke into loud commentary. Eden tapped her index cards against her jeans and waited.
“Huddle!” Ellery screeched over the commotion. Once again, the Beautification Committee members circled up.
They debated longer this time. Giving Eden not much else to do but stare around the room. She looked at the whiteboard again. Under the couple equation written at the top was a list of other names. Sammy Ames, Blue Moon’s large animal vet and Eden’s BFF, was at the top. Layla’s was stuffed in the middle. Beneath the names—future victims, Eden supposed—was a number. $47,735. And beneath that was a bar graph shaded up to the $100 line. There was a list of suggestions next to the graph.
Fundraisers
1. Beautification Committee Nudist Calendar
2. Bake Sale
3. Place Remaining Annual Budget on Horse in Race.
Bruce peeked up out of the huddle “Ms. Moody, the Beautification Committee consents to hearing your reasons.”
“Uh, I just told you my reasons,” Eden reminded him, eyes flitting back to the whiteboard.
“Oh, of course. How silly of me.” He ducked back into the pile, and the whispering started again.
Eden helped herself to a cup of punch while she waited and studied the figure on the board. It was the exact amount of damages to Davis’s house. She’d heard him discussing it on the phone with Calvin Finestra at breakfast one morning.
Did that mean—
>
“Ms. Moody,” Bruce said abruptly. “The Beautification Committee is prepared to vote on your petition.”
Oh, crap. That wasn’t in the binder.
They all regained their seats, and Eden swiped nervously at the frosting on her shirt.
“Please let me remind the committee that they are free to vote their conscience. Don’t worry about the devastating blow this could deliver to the individual who campaigned for this obviously perfect match,” Bruce announced dramatically.
If Bruce wasn’t careful, she’d deliver a devastating blow… to his face.
“Try not to be swayed by the fact that the BC has a perfect record in matchmaking and never before have we abandoned a couple in mid-match,” he continued.
The Beautification Committee members exchanged glances with each other.
“All those in favor of abandoning Eden and Davis when their tender love requires our support the most,” Bruce began. His voice squeaked. “I can’t look!” Bruce covered his eyes. “Amethyst, my pearl, please record the vote.”
Eden counted hands. Eva, Gia, Bobby, and Gordon were her new best friends, voting to free her from Davis Gates. She wanted to make out with all of them… except for maybe Gordon, who was still shirtless.
“All those opposed to this frivolous claim and who wish to stay true to our mission statement of providing lasting love for those in need of it?” Bruce asked.
With his eyes still covered, Bruce joined Amethyst, Rainbow, and Wilson raising their hands.
Well, shit. Eden crossed her arms.
“Well?” Bruce demanded, peeking through his fingers.
“It’s a tie vote,” Amethyst said in her quiet, mousy voice.
“How is that possible? Who didn’t vote?” Bruce demanded.
“That would be me,” Ellery said, gnawing on her pencil.
“Ellery, we’ve been friends for a long time,” Eden reminded her.