Page 35 of Just a Plot Twist (Tate Brothers #7)

Claire

My mind is busy hating on Rich at our meeting this morning.

Hey, it’s either that or I allow myself to be flooded with gut-toppling memories from the other night with Benson.

Or “Bens” as I started calling him.

I love calling him “Bens.”

We kissed in the lake and it was glorious. Calling him “Bens” felt almost more intimate than anything else.

Almost.

For that moment, I wasn’t cold, and my goosebumps and shivers faded away into nothingness. I was only aware of him. Kissing him became my favorite lifeblood.

It’s changed everything for me.

And he’s been the kindest, most attentive man to me since.

But I cannot sit here and reminisce during this update on the state of the water table in the town of Longdale, Colorado.

“No one knows how to do anything!” Rich’s voice grates through my head-in-the-clouds feelings. He’s on one today, slicing his arms through the air like he’s about to take flight. What’s got his panties in a bunch?

Maybe he remembers that he’s an idiot?

No matter what, he is pushing the envelope here. He even does the thing he always does: He says “irregardless” when he’s trying to sound smart. I’ve told him it’s not a real word, but he doesn’t believe me.

I dash out of the meeting as soon as it’s over, willing myself to move on from the storm cloud that is Rich and focus on positive things. I have my interview with Mayor Whitten and a couple of the council members in half an hour, so positivity is a must right now.

In my office, I do a decent job at expunging from my mind Rich and my worries about him getting the job over me.

But I simply cannot get over the memories of Benson’s lips on mine.

I’m sure I still have a dopey grin when I go upstairs and am ushered into the mayor’s office, smoothing my hands down my white midi-length skirt.

I look the part in my thin, black sweater, Burberry-esque tan cotton jacket, and my camel loafers.

My hair is brushed smooth, my makeup on point.

I know I exude the vibe that this job is mine .

As things start out, the whole situation is less like a job interview and more like a chat with people I’ve known half my life.

Because I actually have.

I barely flinch when Shirley Donahue and Ellis Salisbury begin with their questions. I know the answers like the back of my hand. I’ve lived and breathed resource allocations and city development issues for so long, it’s almost second nature.

But then Mayor Whitten starts in. “What’s your budgeting philosophy?”

I was in the meeting last week when Rich spouted off his beliefs on our budgeting style as a city. And I remember the mayor agreeing with him on every point he made.

But I have a different approach in mind. “I’ll start with a data-driven assessment, and I’ll be thorough about it. We can’t see where we’re going until we know where we’ve been.” I expound on that opener, and the council members and mayor seem satisfied with my answer—maybe even impressed.

We discuss the trailways project, but then, the mayor concludes the interview with: “It’s no secret that, if we stick with the internal candidates only, there’s just you and one other person who are viable options.”

We all know he means Rich and me.

I give a small smile. “I’d like to humbly say that there’s really only one viable option and that’s me.

Mr. Mayor and council members,” I look at each of them in turn.

“Inez Gregory has served faithfully in her job for years, but, due to her high-risk pregnancy, she asked me several months ago to fill a bigger role. I’ve acted on her behalf in many capacities.

I’m well-versed in what it takes to keep this city thriving because I’ve been doing it, in one way or another, for nine years.

I’m ready and willing to continue on in this vein for many years to come. ”

The mayor gives a brief smile before he clicks his tongue. “Well, until the city manager curse gets ya like the rest of ’em.”

The council members snicker along with him.

It’s all been so casual in the room that maybe they don’t realize what he’s said—the impact it can have and how unethical it is.

Still, I’m frozen to the chair, too shocked to speak, the blood draining from my face as I sort through my options now.

Do I announce that his remark was unethical?

Do I tell him he’s being sexist, and I’ll file a formal complaint with the state?

Or do I play the game and laugh along with them, assuring them I have no intention of getting married and having children anytime soon?

Except, maybe that’s not true anymore. I can’t plan all that with Benson yet, but in some ways, I can’t not have it on my radar, right? Our situation isn’t the same as if we were two young adults with no attachments. We have to think ahead here.

“We can only go with a candidate who is firmly committed to the position for the long haul.” Mayor Whitten stares me down, the question of are you committed to this or not? stamped on his face.

What he’s saying is clear. A blip of injustice goes through me as a look of pity settles in the mayor’s eyes.

He’s already made up his mind.

Maybe Rich knows he’ll get the job, and I misinterpreted his earlier surliness for a power high.

My line of vision sways to one side. Spots speckle my view.

If Rich gets the job, will he take over the trailways project, too? Will the mayor give him the project I’ve been working on for a year? The one I’ve come to care deeply about?

I could see it happening, especially since he’s mister nature, allegedly, with his L.L.Bean everything.

Now I really am going to be sick.