Page 48 of The Good Luck Cafe
“Aww. How far along is the mother-to-be?” Moira asked. The Babymoon Bed &Breakfast catered to expectant parents.
“Eight and a half months.” Lucy grimaced. “She could go into labor at any moment, really.”
“Good thing they have a midwife running their inn.” Tess stood as well. “Lara is out this week so it’s just me at the bookstore. I need to head over and open shop.”
“And I have a dispatch to get to.” Moira collected her purse and coffee and stood. “Hopefully it’ll be a calm, emergency-free day.”
“In which case, you need to start building a website.” Tess pointed a finger in her direction. “‘Moira Green believes in small businesses and big changes,’” she repeated.
“Yes, Campaign Manager,” Moira quipped.
Tess turned back. “I don’t run the book club, and I’m not the campaign manager here. It’s a team effort on both counts.”
Lucy put a hand on her friend’s back. “You’re a natural leader. Accept it.”
“Maybe you should be the one running for mayor,” Moira told Tess.
Tess put up a hand. “Not it. My plate is full with the bookshop and River.” Her cheeks flushed at the mention of her fiancé’s name.
“I’ll bet it is,” Della said on a chuckle.
“Look who’s talking,” Tess said with a smile as she headed toward the exit, glancing over her shoulder at Della.
Moira felt a little left out whenever the subject of romance came up among her friends. She was always the single one. Albeit happily single, but maybe not quite as contented as she once was. Now that all her friends were part of a couple, she was feeling more and more alone. She’d always said she didn’t need a romantic interest in her life, and she still didn’t. But maybe it would be nice to have one.
Where did that thought come from? First she was running for public office, and now she was reconsidering her stance on her love life or lack thereof.
Moira headed toward the bakery’s exit and paused as she saw Gil approach the door from the other side. They’d met this same way the other day, only from opposite sides. His gaze connected with hers, and her heart skipped.
He opened the door and gave her a warm smile. “We have to stop meeting like this,” he teased.
Butterflies fluttered around in her chest. Moira ignored butterflies. They made her uncomfortable. She didn’t necessarily enjoy the skipped heartbeats or flushed feeling of her skin either. “If this bakery becomes a parking lot, I guess we will stop meeting like this,” she said.
Gil didn’t seem to let the comment get to him. “Planning your campaign this morning?”
“Mm,” she agreed. “Apparently, Denise has spies on us. Rumor has it we met up on Saturday night at your house.”
Gil chuckled. “Well, it’s true. We did.”
“Do you have spies on her?” It was a serious question. He’d told Moira he didn’t play dirty, but maybe keeping tabs on your competition was part of the game.
Gil shook his head. “I don’t stoop to Denise’s level. I focus on my plans and promises, not on the opposing teams’ perceived flaws or misgivings.”
“Good to know.” Moira glanced past him toward the door. “Well, I have a shift to get to.”
“And I have a coffee with my name on it.” Gil stepped back to make way for Moira to leave. She was about to walk past him, but Sheriff Ronnie stepped up to the two first.
“Just the two folks I was wanting to talk to,” he said with a huge grin on his face. Ronnie was a serious man. If he was smiling, something was up.
“Oh?” Gil asked. “You want to see both of us?”
The sheriff nodded. “I’ve already spoken to Denise, and she says she’ll be happy to help me out. Now all I need is for you two to agree.”
“To what exactly?” Moira asked.
The sheriff rubbed his hands together. “As you know, this town responds well to fundraisers, and I’m doing a little spring cleaning in my jail. The cells need sprucing up. We need new cots and sheets, stuff like that. Those things are never in the budget though.”
“I’m always happy to participate in a fundraiser,” Gil said.
