Trouble When You Walked In (Contemporary Romance) (15 page)

“None of that’s necessary,” Boone said. “We can rise above the fray and leave politics at the office.”

The man was desperate for her granddaughter, that much was clear to Nana. “Cissie?”

“Yes?” She cast a half-lidded sideways glance at Boone.

Hell, they were like two thirteen-year-olds with their first crush.

“Promise to trust me on this one, okay? Out of respect for your elders.” Nana rarely pulled that card out. But sometimes you did what you had to do. “We’ll stay out of Boone’s way.”

“Of course, we will.” Cissie had a bit of pique in her voice.

Good. She was as committed to keeping her promise as a bride with three grooms.

Nana laid her wrinkled hand on Boone’s arm. “Give us at least the first week when she’s collecting signatures. She doesn’t need her enthusiasm watered down by feelings of guilt. If you spoil us too much, that’s exactly what’ll happen. She’ll ring a doorbell with her clipboard, think about your waffles and coffee”—and probably his superior lovemaking skills—“and walk away before anyone even gets a chance to answer.”

“Her?” Boone angled his jaw at Cissie. “I can’t see that happening. When she makes up her mind—”

“She’s stubborn, I know,” said Nana. “But I’m older and wiser than you both. You don’t need any distractions, either. Your parents had a good point. If we run into each other, fine. But no special treatment. This is a fine house, room enough for all of us to keep to ourselves. Isn’t that lovely?”

Bless their hearts, they both went silent.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

An entire long, busy week passed for Cissie. She’d made numerous calls to the insurance people. A massive tree cleanup had begun. Boone assured her that his architectural contact was working on a new, improved design for the front of the house, and pending Cissie’s approval, the building contractor had been hired to implement it.

A tree man in a cherry picker dumped all of Nana’s and Cissie’s clothes from their bedrooms into garbage bags and brought them up the road to Boone’s house.

And Cissie had collected almost all the signatures she needed to get on the mayor’s ballot. Nana told her to pretend she was in a play and act the part of the successful candidate. Stepping outside herself like that would take some of the edge off her nerves.

Funnily enough, that strategy worked. It didn’t come naturally to Cissie to go up to strangers—and even people she knew—and start up a conversation. But when she gave herself lines, so to speak, she could do it. Her real self, the shy one, was tucked away safely inside.

She focused on the newer part of town, which included the recently built apartment complex. Surprisingly, she was a big hit there. She felt like a
real
candidate when they told her about how their water bills were too high and that there wasn’t a park nearby. They also wanted to know why the elementary school didn’t have a mascot and a statue of a colonial North Carolina patriot out front. All sorts of issues came up, which Cissie doggedly recorded on her cell phone’s note-taking app.

Being mayor was a big job. And somehow Boone did it part-time. She admired him for being able to, although there were many items that needed addressing that he either hadn’t heard about yet—or hadn’t gotten around to.

But if he hadn’t gotten around to them, no wonder. He’d barely been home the past week. Football practice had ramped up. And she’d read in the
Bugler
that the mayor’s office had to entertain a visiting delegation from Germany, a group who’d come to see whether they should open a tire plant ten miles outside of Kettle Knob. It would employ nearly two hundred people, so that was a very big deal.

She’d only seen him three times the past seven days—once when she’d walked into his study to get a book around midnight and caught a glimpse of him there, poring over a bunch of papers.

“School stuff,” he’d told her before she’d backed out.

He’d looked so handsome and tired, all at once, that her heart had nearly beaten out of her chest. She wished she could have gone in there and sat on his lap and kissed his cares away.

The second time had been in the downstairs kitchen to borrow some milk, but Nana had been with her. Cissie had been in her ancient striped flannel jammies, and she’d blushed.

The third time had been when she was going up the stairs as he was coming in the front door. She’d stopped on the tread and said hello and wished she could find an excuse to walk downstairs, but she couldn’t come up with one.

Nana was right. She needed to stay away.
He
was the one making her highly anxious about the library! Why would she reward him with her attention?

He was just so damned attractive. And smart. And accomplished—in hot tubs and out of them. If only he’d been any other man in town.

But he wasn’t. He was Boone. She’d even asked Nana one more time if they could move out of his wonderful house, and Nana said she didn’t have time for such nonsense—she had a play to put on, and Cissie had more important things to think about, too.

Now it was time to walk into Starla’s diner, where most Kettle Knobbers who had lived there for any length of time liked to gather. Cissie needed only four more signatures, and she was bound and determined to get them from tried-and-true locals. Walking down Main Street the past forty minutes, she’d picked up twelve signatures. She was a pro.

Outside the restaurant, in the shadow of the big elm tree, she gathered herself. Yes, Boone’s mayor sign was plastered to the window, and Braddocks had dominated Kettle Knob politics the past sixty years. But that was no reason to slow her down.

She took a breath and opened the diner door. The usual hum of chatter died down to a brief silence. Some customers at the tables and counter stared openly at Cissie. She didn’t frequent the diner very often. And in a small town, anything out of the ordinary was cause for speculation. But this time, she was sure everyone knew why she was there.

The chatter started up again when she walked to the counter.

Starla was busy making milk shakes. Cissie waited until she was done. “I hope you got my note about the pies you made for the sit-in. They were delicious. Thank you.”

Starla wiped her hands on her apron. “It was my pleasure. And I did receive your note. I must say I enjoyed getting a piece of mail in my mailbox that wasn’t a bill.”

Cissie smiled. “Well, you’ve probably heard the news. I’m running for mayor.”

“I had heard that, and I think it’s very cool.”

“I heard the same thing,” said an older gentleman on a stool next to Cissie. “It’s interesting that a Braddock and a Rogers will be running against each other.”

This was her chance to explain her platform.

“What really matters,” she said carefully, “is that we have different opinions about how to carry Kettle Knob into the future. I think we need to preserve our town as best as we can, and that includes keeping the library where it is.”

Starla moved a pair of salt-and-pepper shakers over by the menus. “It’s a worthy debate that needs to be addressed. So hand over that clipboard. I’ll be happy to sign it.”

Cissie grinned and pushed it across the counter. “I promise next time I’ll stay for lunch.”

“You should.” Starla scribbled her name on the form and pushed the clipboard back to Cissie. “We take the pulse of Kettle Knob right here every day.”

“Would you like to sign it, too?” Cissie asked the old man.

He shrugged. “Sure. Why not see this old family rivalry played out?”

“There’s really no rivalry.” Cissie wished people would move on past that and stick to the issues. “We’ve just always had different interests. And now they overlap.”

“Sounds intriguing,” said a woman behind her.

Cissie turned around. It was someone from the theater, one of Nana’s best character actors.

“No one has challenged Boone for mayor since he’s been elected, and I’d love to see him really work to get voted back in.” The actress held out her hand. “So I’ll sign.”

“Thanks.” Cissie handed over her clipboard. This wasn’t going to be so bad, after all.

“I don’t think you’ll win,” the woman said as she wrote her name, “and I don’t agree with you about the library. But good for you for trying anyway. Things have gotten dull around here. We need some drama.”

“I don’t want drama.” Cissie clung to patience. “I’m running for a substantial reason. And I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t think I stood a chance. I know as much about Kettle Knob and what we need here as Mayor Braddock. It’s good to get a change occasionally. We don’t want anyone running this town on autopilot.”

“Are you saying Mayor Braddock is?”

That voice!

Cissie resigned herself to a confrontation of some sort. When she turned, Janelle stood in front of a table of four diners, chic and confident as always. “Hi, Janelle. I’m simply saying that we need a fresh perspective.”

Janelle put one hand on her hip. “As mayor of the neighboring town of Campbell, I disagree. Boone’s an excellent mayor, and he’s a fine high school football coach. He succeeds in both places, and it’s because he knows what makes a winning team.”

Cissie was no longer “in a play” in her mind. She was Cissie. Bungling, shy Cissie. She wondered yet again if she should be wearing something more exciting than her librarian clothes: skirts, blouses, simple dresses. And she also wished she had the chutzpah Janelle did.

“I’m saying,” she began slowly, her heart pounding, “Mayor Braddock’s been unchallenged so long that it’s time to shake things up at Town Hall. What he does with the Kettle Knob Academy football team is an entirely separate matter.”

“I beg to differ.” Janelle pulled out a stick of gum and folded it into her mouth.

“That’s your prerogative,” Cissie said.

“What do you propose to do to get town council on your side?” Janelle worked that gum like there was no tomorrow. “Why should they be? You have no experience in government at all.”

Cissie girded her loins. “I’m a public librarian with eight years’ experience managing our library under my belt.”

The old man clapped, which gave Cissie a little boost of courage.

“Before I ran for mayor,” Janelle countered, “I was president of the Junior Service League and Miss Buncombe County.
Twice
.”

Well, la-di-da!

“We’re both capable women,” Cissie insisted. “It might behoove you to throw your political support behind the same girl who pulled you through Algebra Two in high school
and
taught you the difference between an atom and a molecule in seventh grade. I also recall selling all of your Girl Scout cookies for you outside the drugstore in fourth grade when you were too shy to do so because there was a German shepherd down the street who jumped his fence all the time.”

So there.

Janelle had red flags on her cheeks. Cissie couldn’t believe it, but she felt she was holding her own.

“Hi, Cissie.” Boone appeared from behind Janelle and smiled at her in the courteous way a mayor should. “How’s it going?”

“Fine,” she said quietly back. But she was remembering his outright grin when he’d danced with her at the library. And she’d seen it again in the hot tub.

Oh, that hot tub. She’d been desperate to forget that night, but it was impossible when her body wanted it to happen again.

“Excuse us.” Janelle doggedly chewed her gum, her eyes narrowed at Cissie. “We’re meeting someone.” She pushed rudely past, her large breasts swiping Cissie’s tiny ones.

“See you later,” Boone said.

At home
, is what he meant.

He brushed by her, too, in a polite, professional way. Their hands accidentally touched, and a shock went up Cissie’s arm as she remembered clutching that hand in the hot tub. She hadn’t realized how much she craved seeing and touching him until this moment—when she had to pretend they didn’t live in the same house.

Of course, they were mayoral opponents, too. On opposite sides. Their jobs were to defeat each other. He’d gotten the message, obviously, and now it was her turn. She should walk away.

But she didn’t. She followed them.

And was shocked at herself. Maybe Nana was rubbing off on her. Or maybe it was the fact that she’d spent a whole week being brave.

Boone talked to people all the way to his seat. He slid into one side of the booth, Janelle in the other.

Cissie stood in front of them. “Who are you meeting?” she asked with a smile.

Janelle’s heavily made-up eyes widened. “Why do
you
care? It’s official business.”

“County business?” Cissie had every right to know if it was. She was a citizen.

If it wasn’t, then she was just a nosy person butting into the private affairs of two very good-looking people. But it was a chance she was willing to take.

“As a matter of fact, it
is
county business,” Boone said. “We’re going to be talking to the county administrator about budgets again.”

“Shouldn’t all of Kettle Knob have input into those kinds of talks?” Cissie asked. “I didn’t hear a word about the library until it was too late.”

“That’s why you vote your town council and mayor in,” Janelle said smugly, “to see to these matters for you. Your newspaper should have covered the meeting, and if you had any objections, you should have voiced them then or petitioned the council to appear before it at the next meeting.”

Cissie refused to be cowed now, even as Janelle unbuttoned her cardigan to reveal a sexy pink-and-white-striped silk blouse which put Cissie’s camel turtleneck to shame.

She turned to Boone. “Did Edwina cover the issue of the library? I never saw it in the paper.”

He didn’t seem impressed by Janelle’s décolletage, thank goodness. “She usually does.” He pulled out a cell phone. “Let’s ask her right now. Take a seat.” He indicated the space across from him.

Cissie slid in next to Janelle, who stared at her as if she were a toadstool.

Cissie smiled back. It was mildly entertaining getting under Janelle’s skin. “Here we are,” she said. “Old friends.”

Janelle scowled. “What is
up
with you?”