Page 295 of On A Manhunt: Complete Series

GEORGIA

I waited until I was sitting in my rental before I called my cousin. “What are you up to?” I asked.

“Why are you whispering?” Bradley asked.

I frowned because I had no idea. I was alone.

The fire station was at the south end of Main Street.

Parked in the front lot, I stared out across the street at Steaming Hotties.

Through the coffee shop window, I saw Mav sitting at a high-top table across from a woman with her hair pulled back in a bun and glasses perched on her cute face.

The way he was smiling at her, I assumed she was the math-smart Bridget.

“Why did I get this job?” I asked Bradley, adjusting the vents so the heat, when it finally kicked in, would blow right on me. The sun was out but it was freezing. My coat didn’t do much against the cold.

“Because you’re talented,” he said immediately. No hesitation. Not because I was pretty or because I’d represent the company well. That my face was what was important, nothing more.

“I’m a former pageant queen,” I reminded. He was well aware of my past.

“Yes, you are.”

“Former, as in I never got beyond Little Miss Calhan,” I clarified. No Miss Georgia for me, like Sassy.

“I’m well aware. Aunt June points that out every chance she gets. You think you’d be better qualified for this job with your sister’s pageant record?”

Bradley was my mother’s brother’s son. Uncle Dan married a woman from Colorado and settled there.

Bradley lived in Denver and had worked at James Corp for close to a decade.

While he and I only saw each other once or twice a year, we talked all the time.

Out of all my relatives, including my mother and sister, I was closest with Bradley.

We weren’t just cousins, but close friends and knew all about my mother’s obsession of success via tiaras and sashes.

“I get it every time I talk to my mother.” I pursed my lips. “And no, having Miss Georgia on my resume wouldn’t make a difference in this job.”

“Exactly. Your momma loves you in her own warped way, but don’t listen to her. Or your sister. They’ve breathed in way too much hair spray.”

That got a smile out of me, at least for a moment.

“It’s hard not to when I’m living with her. She and Sassy gang up on me.” I was definitely bitter by the constant reminder that I was never good enough. Like Sassy. Perfect. She got the Miss Georgia tiara. Not me. I was too clumsy. Too fat. Too… Just too much. Or too little.

I was too old to live with my mother again, but without realizing, I set myself up for it.

My assistant job at the PR company hadn’t been well paying, but when Art and I had been married, it hadn’t mattered.

Divorced, though, it didn’t cover my rent.

I’d trusted in my marriage, that together we were financially secure and preparing for a family.

But that went away and so did my job when I quit. So back home to Momma I’d gone.

Temporarily. Now I was in Hunter Valley. A reprieve I had Bradley to thank.

“That’s why you’re in Montana. Everyone is a former something, GG. I did wrestling in middle school. I can safely say I am a former wrestler.”

Absently, I pushed the hazard button on and off.

“Fine. But what does my background have to do with a fire department fundraiser in Montana?”

“You have the PR background.”

“I was an assistant,” I reminded.

He ignored me. “You’re open, a strong leader–”

I laughed at that. “Strong leader? Are you serious? A leader is the mayor of this town. Mac as fire chief. Maverick as CEO of a billion-dollar company. You remember him. Your boss?”

“Yes, and that’s why you’re in Montana.”

“Is it? Because I’m starting to think my presence here has nothing to do with this job.”

“You wanted out of Calhan and this opportunity came up. So yes, you’re there because you wanted an escape. I pointed out the opening, knew you’d be perfect for it, but you got the job all on your own.”

I sighed. “Thank you for that. Truly. Besides my mother, it feels so good not to have to worry about running into Art at the grocery store or see him at a restaurant with Pam.”

“Art’s an asshole. Be thankful you’re rid of him. And I know how much you wanted kids, but you really don’t want one with him.”

“I want a baby, B,” I admitted wistfully. The heat was finally coming from the vents, and I relaxed my shoulders.

“I know you do,” he replied, his voice soft. “But not with Art. Not with a man who didn’t respect you. You deserve it all.”

“And you think that’s with Mac?”

He was quiet for a moment. “Mac, the fire chief? Why would you say that?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Flying with his son? Staying in his vacation rental? Him being the chief of the department that is having the fundraiser I’m here to organize?”

“You flew with his son?”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know how you did it, but yes.”

“I’m good, but not that good.”

I doubted it. Somehow, he got into the FAA computers or the airlines seating chart and put me on the same flight and in the same row as Mac’s father and son.

Hmmm… okay, maybe he wasn’t that skilled.

“Look, you’re there because Maverick wants to see Hunter Valley thrive and that a chili dinner won’t show off how tight knit the community is. Donating a talented resource to the project is him helping.”

“The chili dinner is out,” I corrected.

“Oh? What’s in its place?”

“A firefighter calendar.”

He was quiet for a moment, then laughed. “Excellent idea. I assume you came up with it.”

“Yes.”

“Plus, puppies and kittens from the animal shelter for cross charity support?”

“Yes.”

“Perfect.”

“If you came up with that yourself in two seconds, why aren’t you doing this?” I asked.

“I already have a job.”

I winced. “Ouch.”

He was pointing out that I’d quit when I couldn’t stand seeing Art all the time.

Another thing I should have considered, because looking back, it was a big red flag.

But when one was young and in love, working for the same company was romantic.

Driving to and from work together. Sneaking into the copy room for a quick kiss…

Yeah, not the same thing as when it’s him, you and his secretary he fucked. To escape, the only option was to quit, which I did before they married and got pregnant.

To make ends meet, I took up pageant coaching again and moved in with my mother.

The ultimate double whammy of misery. All my mother could see was that I couldn’t satisfy and keep my husband happy and that the only job I would be good for was back in pageants, as a coach for little girls on how to walk, how to smile.

How to answer questions and be poised and confident.

Not fun at all. None of it.

I’d needed a new job so badly that I hadn’t thought twice about it being in Montana.

Bradley had come through. An epic rescue–income and a different state.

At least in the very short term. When the fundraiser was done, I’d be back in Calhan because the job was a contractor position only.

If I did a good enough job, maybe I’d be hired on full time in Denver.

That had been tossed out as a possibility from HR and I glommed onto it with every hope in my body.

New state, solid job, near my favorite family member?

But that was a tomorrow problem. I had a different one today.

Mac.

My new innkeeper? Landlord? Top billing on my flick-the-bean list? Yeah, I used that vibrator thinking of him last night. I’d brought the thing and been totally mortified over it spilling out of my suitcase onto the airport floor in front of him. I was definitely using it.

“You came up with the calendar idea,” Bradley said, breaking through my thoughts about Mac being featured in my self-pleasure fantasies. “The puppies, too. It shows you know your stuff. That’s why you’re there.”

Except I had a very cranky calendar cover model. And landlord. If he hadn’t gotten an emergency call, what would he have done? I had to sway him to the idea. The success of the fundraiser depended on it. Same with my new divorced life.