Page 9 of The Fake Out

“Ladies, I see you’ve met Chris.”

I growled. Yes. An actual growl. If every supervillain joined forces, found a way to combine all their DNA and used it to create a mutant baby in a lab, then gave it dark-blond hair and the cold, dead heart of a politician, it would be this man—Peter Stone.

Once upon a time, I’d thought him handsome and charming with his swoopy hair, broad shoulders and commanding presence. I’d thought the little paunch he’d developed after college and even his penchant for cowboy boots and too-tight Wranglers were all adorable. I’d even dreamed of marrying him and having his little Wrangler-wearing babies. I’d tried to give a relationship with Peter a real chance. In the beginning, it had been nice, fun even. But like most everything that started out good in my life, it hadn’t lasted; he hadn’t lasted.

Now I hoped one day he got lost in the woods and a pack of ravenous coyotes devoured him. I guess Ali wasn’t the only one with revenge fantasies.

Actually, this was a good thing. Seeing him reminded me that pretty packages often have ugly insides.

“I thought it was meatloaf day, not meathead,” Ali said. She was a good and loyal friend so she hated Peter, too.

“Alicia, I see you’ve been working on your grown-up words,” Peter said, clearly taking his life in his hands.

Ali arched a single dark eyebrow, already planning how she’d make Peter eat those words.

“We met yesterday,” Chris said to Peter, but his next words were for me. “Thanks for book recommendation. I did finally figure out where that Duke put his hand.”

“You’re welcome,” I said in a syrupy-sweet voice. “I’m just glad to know you can read.”

He leaned a hip against the counter next to me, that dang twinkle back in his eye. He was enjoying this. Which was irritating.

“Maybe we could have ourselves a book club? I’ll pick the next one though.” Then he winked. See? Irritating.

“Let me guess. Book Club badge?”

“Obviously.”

“Maebell, I’m glad I saw you,” Peter cut in. “I had a question about the library budget and hoped we could find a time to talk about it.”

“Uh-oh,” Ali whispered.

Did I mention Peter held the auspicious title of Mayor of Two Harts, Texas? He took up the mantle from his father, who took over from his father. I know a mayor is an elected official, but when no one’s willing to run against you, it was basically a dictatorship.

“Maebell?” Chris said, drawing the word out. “That’s cute.”

“I am not cute,” I snapped. Which was true. Puppies were cute. Tiny doll furniture made to scale was cute. Ali was cute in a messy, nerdy way that a surprising number of men found attractive. At least until they got on her bad side.

Peter cleared his throat and my eyes jerked back to glare at him. “What is it you want to talk about?”

It had been Peter who’d convinced the city council to slash my budget so drastically last year. ’Cause he was a jerk like that.

“I have ideas about how we could cut some corners,” he said in his cheerful, baby-kissing politician voice. “Turns out the new football stadium is going to cost a little more than we planned, and we’re asking everyone to chip in a little.”

“You’re joking, right?” I said.

“Let’s not do this now. You think about it. I’ll have Maria call and set up an appointment.” He waved at someone over my head. “Ed, how are you? Had a question for you.”

As I watched him walk away, my fists curled at my sides. Maybe he could get lost in the forest but with honey in his pocket and find a bunch of really ambitious bears.

“You gonna eat that?” Chris was now sitting on the stool beside me, looking at my meatloaf with interest.

I pushed the plate his way. I wasn’t hungry anymore. “No, go ahead.”

Ali shoulder-bumped me. “You okay?”

“I hate him.”

“I know. I hate him, too.” See? Good and loyal friend. “Anytime you want to take action, you let me know. I already have a few ideas.”