Page 6 of Summer Showdown
"Why would she agree to this?" I asked, drumming my fingers against the countertop. "She doesn't even know me."
"I'm meeting with Ms. Hayes this afternoon," Snowcroft said. "I think she might have her own reasons for finding this arrangement useful. But I wanted to gauge your interest first."
I exhaled slowly, fogging the glass countertop beneath my hands. "Even if I considered it—and I'm not saying I am—what exactly would this involve?"
"Nothing inappropriate," he assured me. "Attend the artisan market together. Paddle in the sunset boat parade. Be seen at the brewery tasting and festival awards ceremony. Let Zoe take her photos and try to have some fun. It's all just good publicity."
"And if we don't hit it off? If she thinks this is ridiculous?"
"Then we drop it immediately," the mayor promised. "No harm done. But if you're both amenable, it could be a win-win situation. Think about it, will you?"
The bell chimed again as the mayor departed, leaving behind his proposal and the faint scent of expensive aftershave. I sat there for a long moment, turning the proposition over in my mind. It was ridiculous—the kind of scheme I'd typically dismiss outright. The memory of being town gossip after Vanessa left still rankled as though it were fresh.
But that year-round swimming facility... The image was crystal clear in my mind: the converted warehouse space on Pinecrest Drive, kids learning water safety year-round instead of just during summer months. Logan helping me teach beginners in a heated pool rather than the sometimes-frigid lake. Double the number of children we could reach. Double the lives we could potentially save.
Tyler slid onto the stool the mayor had vacated. "What was that about?"
I explained Snowcroft's proposal, watching Tyler's eyes widen with each detail.
"So let me get this straight," he said when I finished. "The mayor wants you to fake-date a hot Chicago lawyer to make Wintervale's summer festival more exciting, and you're actually considering it?"
"I'm considering what it could do for the water safety iniative," I clarified, fiddling with the sleeve of the wetsuit. "The quarterly grant deadline is next month, and we're still eight thousand short of what we need for the aquatic instruction center deposit."
"Uh-huh." Tyler's skepticism was evident. "And the fact that the woman in question is gorgeous has nothing to do with it?"
"I don't even know her," I protested. "She could be awful. One of those big-city types with her nose in the air who looks down on small towns like ours."
"Or she could be great," he countered. "You won't know unless you meet her. Besides, when's the last time you took a risk on anything except a tricky miter joint?"
I gave him the finger with a smirk.
"I'm not agreeing to anything until I talk to her myself," I said firmly. "And only if she actually agrees to this crazy arrangement.”
"Fair enough." Tyler checked his watch and stood. "I've got to help a customer with fly fishing gear but keep me posted. This is officially the most interesting thing to happen in Wintervale since Mrs. Pemberton's chicken got loose in the bank."
He wasn't wrong.
Left alone, I pulled out my phone and scrolled back to the photo in Zoe's blog. The woman—Lark—stood with the kindof straight-backed poise that suggested she spent her days in boardrooms rather than on docks. Even in shorts and a t-shirt, there was a natural elegance to her. She wasn't trying to be noticed; she was simply lovely. Vanessa had always posed for effect, hamming it up for any camera pointed in her direction for maximum impact. This woman in contrast looked like she'd faced down tougher opponents than a local blogger.
The craftsmanship in my head started measuring and cutting: If I agreed to this charade, I'd need to carve out time between lifeguarding and swim classes, as well as teaching prep. The Summer Splash Festival ran for a full week, starting with the Artisan Market on Tuesday, continuing with community events through the week, and culminating in the Lake Challenge Regatta the following Saturday. Plus, there was Mayor Snowcroft's wedding that same day at the Evergreen Inn. The jewelry box I was creating as the mayor's gift to his bride still needed that final coat of finish. It would be a busy stretch.
I pocketed my phone. This was crazy. Pretending to date someone for publicity was the kind of thing that happened in bad romantic comedies, not real life. Not my life, anyway.
But as I grabbed my wetsuit and headed for the door, I couldn't quite dismiss the idea. If it helped the aquatic center initiative, if she agreed, if it was just for the festival... maybe it wasn't completely insane.
I'd talk to her first. See what she was like, what she thought of this bizarre proposal. Then I'd decide.
No matter how composed she looked in that photo, I wasn't jumping into anything—real or fake—without making sure it wouldn't blow up in my face. I'd been the subject of Wintervale's pity once before, and some mistakes didn't bear repeating.
Chapter Three
Lark
The porch swing at the Evergreen Inn creaked gently as I rocked back and forth, my body sinking into the plush cushions. Late afternoon sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled patterns across the wraparound porch. A half-empty glass of iced tea perspired on the small table beside me, alongside a plate of cookies I'd snagged from the refreshment station in the inn's front hall. Bramble, a scruffy black terrier with soulful eyes and ears too big for his compact body, dozed contentedly at my feet. The little dog had appointed himself my personal companion since breakfast, his tiny paws occasionally twitching as he chased dream rabbits in his sleep.
I'd met Bramble that morning when I'd finally dragged myself downstairs just before the breakfast buffet closed. Rory had introduced us while refilling the coffee carafe, explaining how she and her partner, Cass Whitlock, had found him last winter—abandoned, shivering, and tangled in a bramble bush during a snowstorm. They'd nursed him back to health, and now he served as the Evergreen Inn's unofficial mascot, charmingguests and chasing squirrels with equal enthusiasm. According to Rory, her contractor-turned-boyfriend Cass had been the one to insist they keep him, despite his gruff exterior. "Tough guys and tiny dogs," she'd said with a wink. "Gets them every time."
I'd spent most of the day drifting aimlessly. Half-hearted attempts to read a romance novel I'd found on the bookshelf in my room. Staring blankly at the view of the gardens. Under normal circumstances, I'd have been returning client calls, drafting documents, or preparing for court. The enforced idleness felt like an ill-fitting suit—confining and uncomfortable.
