Page 3 of Just a Plot Twist (Tate Brothers #7)

Claire

“Will you just go already?” My boss Inez’s whisper is harsh. “Pretty much everyone else is gone.”

She’s my friend, as well as the city manager for Longdale, Colorado. It’s unusual that my boss is one of my closest friends, but it just sort of happened over the years. Plus, she’s brilliant at her job and my voice of reason when I need it most.

And she’s also gigantically pregnant with twins. The poor woman went to the bathroom four times in our last meeting.

She’s gathering her things now.

“It’s Friday night, remember?” she says, picking up a paper bowl of cracker crumbs off my desk and throwing it in the trash for me. “The night our culture has designated as a time to get away from it all and relax?”

“You’ve forgotten what it’s like to be single in Longdale. ”

“Probably.” She gives a lopsided grin. “But I do know it should not involve working late.”

I stop typing up the notes from the trailways project meeting earlier today, close my laptop halfway, and look her squarely in the eye. “You go on. You need to rest. It’s the weekend.”

“Exactly!” She throws her arms in the air. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Claire.”

“Sweetie. Go. I promise I’m almost done. I appreciate you. But I’m fine to be here alone.”

Inez lifts a finger as she readies to leave. “I haven’t forgotten what day it is, Claire. I don’t like that you’re going to be alone tonight.” There’s a sadness in her eyes.

“Thank you but you need to take care of yourself and get home. Let Mark forage for food for you.”

And by “forage,” I mean massaging her feet while they wait for something yummy to be delivered to their door.

When Inez saw on my big wall calendar earlier today that it was my late mother’s birthday, she gave me a hug. She said it was momentous, and we should celebrate. She doesn’t want me to be alone.

I appreciate it, but it’s not like we can make a big deal about it right now. She’s under doctor’s orders to rest as much as she can. Besides, my grandparents, Sophie, and I are getting together on Sunday to celebrate Mom.

“I hate that you’ll be alone tonight.” She pulls her hair out from under the strap of her crossover bag, which she adjusts over her belly.

Being alone tonight isn’t out of the norm .

I reassure her, again, that I’m fine and will probably settle in for some funny sitcoms and pizza. Her watch buzzes and when she glances at the lit-up screen, she winces. “I gotta go.”

“Of course you do. Do absolutely nothing this weekend, okay?”

She runs a hand through her shoulder length, wheat-colored hair. Want to go out after work next Wednesday?”

I shake my head. “We both have city council meeting, remember?”

Inez’s never been in the habit of forgetting stuff, but she says her babies have been eating her brain and it’s mush now. “Tuesday, then?”

“Meeting for the Longdale Days committee.”

She rolls her eyes. “You work too much.”

“This has been established.” I stand and press my fingers on her back to steer her to the hallway. “Look, Inez, I’m fine. Yes, I’d love to hang out with you soon. And it will happen.”

“What about tomorrow?”

I almost say that I can’t—too much to do to get caught up on all the aspects of the job she’s had to relegate to me. Don’t tell her, but I’ve already planned a big at-home work sesh. Except…

“You could come look at the trailhead for your research,” I suggest. “Tomorrow’s the Hiking Club’s first hike. We’re doing Silver Elk Trail.”

She raises her brows. She knows me too well. I’m not a hiker, per se.

Mayor Whitten has the vision of integrating and improving all the hiking trails that fall under the city’s jurisdiction. It’s one of the things he ran for office on.

After he was elected for his second term, he tasked Inez with taking care of the nuts and bolts of the project.

And for me? I caught the bug and now I’m all over it.

At this point, my enthusiasm is probably about equal parts my undying love for Longdale as it is about securing Inez’s job after she quits to stay home with her babies.

Because, it would only make sense now, wouldn’t it?

Inez has the trailways project for the mayor. It’s being transitioned over to me. So I should naturally step into her job as city manager, as well, right?

It works seamlessly.

Now that it’s spring, we’ll get the community involved in this cause.

We’ve got an initiative going for drinking fountains and restrooms at the base of as many of the hikes as we possibly can, as well as better signage and handrail repair.

We’ve been in touch with state ecologists and the county parks council.

We’ve gotten some money from non-voted bonds from the city, but we still need more.

Inez cocks her head to one side. “It would be good to take a look at Silver Elk now that it’s spring. What time?”

“The hike starts at six.” At her withering look, I defend myself. “You have to get up to the top in time for the sunrise. That’s practically the whole point.”

“Well, you have to get up to the top. Not me.”

“That goes without saying. You’ll be safely on flat ground. No monkey business for those babies of yours.”

Inez had some minor complications early on in her pregnancy. She’s supposed to be extra careful.

“I’ll be there for moral support and for filling in our trail documents.” She pops the swivel lid off her water bottle.

“It would be nice to meet up and catalogue everything,” I agree. We have extensive paperwork on nearly all the hiking trails in the area now, but not much on Silver Elk Trail .

I hate to admit this, but I haven’t taken advantage of the great natural beauties that surround us here in Longdale.

We’re turning over a new leaf, though. Inez and I even got matching water bottles with built-in powdered flavor inserts because anything that helps us drink more water has gotta be good, right?

We can’t convince the community to take care of our trailways and be healthier if Inez and I are a bunch of couch potatoes.

Well. Inez’s got a pass on that one considering the twins and all. But not me.

Ahh. The power of a good initiative in helping me change even my most staunch couch potato habits. I love me a good initiative.

“You sure you’re ready to hike up an actual mountain in the morning?” Inez asks.

I could easily take offense at her dubious expression. “It’s only a few miles. And it’s supposed to be easy.”

“I’ll be there to send you off.” She sighs. “If I agree to go, you have to make sure and show up. Don’t flake out, Claire.”

“Flake? I’ve never once flaked out on anything! It’s a defining trait.”

I’ve been walking beside her to the elevator and now she eyes me as she pushes the down button. “You never flake on anything, except promises to yourself.”

Ouch.

She’s not going to bring up the delinquent gym memberships is she? She wouldn’t dare!

I’ve been paying for a membership for the last five years. It’s not as nice as the one inside the Tate resort near Longdale Lake, but it gets the job done .

Well, it would get the job done if I made it a priority to go, but that’s neither here nor there.

Moment of truth? I don’t even remember the last time I went hiking. Which is bad, especially when one considers that I’m now obsessed with this trailways project. It only makes sense that I’d be obsessed with hiking now, too, right? I might even start buying clothes from L.L.Bean.

“I’ll see you a little before six, okay?” Inez gives me a quick hug. “And happy birthday to your mom!”

Her belly bumps against me and for the thousandth time, I feel a twinge of something lacking. It’s not sorrow, exactly. I’m too busy to be sad.

But sometimes I want what she has. A husband. Babies. A family of my own.

I wave to her as she leaves, and then my glance flits to a photo of my mom, sister, and me on my desk.

Inez never knew my mom. I barely knew her.

She passed away from a brain tumor when I was five, so I don’t really remember her.

It’s more of a feeling, nothing concrete. Like a wisp of smoke in the distance.

My sister, Sophie, was nine when mom died, so she remembers more.

Our grandparents raised us after that. We had a good childhood, all things considered. To say I miss my mom isn’t exactly the truth because it’s the broken promise of what I could have had with her that hurts. I do feel the absence of a relationship I’ll never get to have.

I’ve been chasing her absence my whole life. But that chasing fuels me. Like, if she were to see me now, would she be proud? She left us in the care of her parents, so I owe it to her and them to make good—to make something of my life.

I sometimes imagine that my grandparents and my mom have a conversation about me. It goes something like:

Grandparents: Marie, you should be proud of Claire.

Marie: I was proud of her before I left. I’ve always had such high hopes for her.

Grandparents: You know, she’s smart as a tack. She’ll be mayor of Longdale or maybe even Boulder one day. Or even governor. She majored in political science, just like you did. Before you met that lowlife ex of yours.

Marie: Now, now. That was a long time ago. No need to bring him up.

Grandparents: Regardless, Claire’s going places. Sophie’s got her head in the clouds as usual, with her books and her adorable baby and all. But, Claire’s going to continue on in the political legacy that we never got to have.

Marie: Yeah. Sorry about that.

Grandparents: Well, it wasn’t your fault you died . And anyway, Claire’s going to change the world. She just has to focus.

Marie: I have no doubt she will. And how’s my Sophie doing?

Grandparents: Her choice of husband is still suspect to us. We don’t get it, but they like each other fine. And our great-granddaughter is a vision. We’re sad to report that Sophie’s still pushing our buttons.

And then I giggle about that last bit.

I pride myself in not being a button pusher.

Also? Is it weird that I imagine these fake conversations?

It is weird, but it somehow fuels me—pushes me to do better and work harder.

I won’t admit this to Inez, but I don’t manage to make it out the door of the city administration building until nearly an hour later .

It’s fine. It’s not uncommon for me to be the last person out of the building. A blip of pride hits me because I outlasted Rich McClain . He’s already gone. He’s the water systems director and is, without question, my biggest rival for the city manager position.

I drive to my childhood home, where my grandparents moved in after their only child died. As soon as I graduated from high school, they moved back to their old life, wanting me to follow. But Sophie and I stayed at the house in between college semesters.

She’s married and has a daughter now, so it’s been just me at the house for the past few years. We tore up the old kitchen before she married Oliver…Sophie always has way too many projects. And when she left, I coped with the empty house by finishing the kitchen remodel.

I get home, fire up a microwavable meal, something with turkey, mashed potatoes, and peas, and settle into a binge watch of New Girl.

I’m alone on a Friday night, doing the same things I always do, but it’s okay. Because as the assistant city manager for Longdale, I sort of feel like the whole town is my family. A crazy, mixed-up family. But a family, nonetheless. So how can anyone feel alone?

And to become the city manager in the wake of Inez’s legacy will be a dream come true.

It’s been us against the old boys club for years, and we’ve taken that solemn oath very seriously.

Now that Inez will give birth soon, it’s my turn to step up. I’m sad to see her go, but to be honest, she’s had a hard time getting her usual stuff done. Well, wouldn’t you if you had two babies kicking your insides twenty-four seven?

I was born to be Longdale’s city manager. It has to happen .

There’s an echo that sometimes scratches my brain, though. It tells me I want to be a mother someday. And a wife. I don’t make a habit of saying it, but I really would.

Sometimes I wonder, if push came to shove, if I would give it all up to be madly in love with a husband and have a whole gaggle of kids. I’m only thirty-three, so I’ve got time.

But still. I’m thirty-three and the want for it never goes away. I never really had a family with a mom and a dad. I want a chance for a do-over—to have the family I never got.

At the same time, my grandparents say I’m too smart and clever and ambitious to settle down.

I owe it to them to pick up where they left off.

I owe it to them to make them proud.