Page 77 of Knot So Sweet
I try. I really do. I even fold my hands like a good little citizen and focus. But the debate immediately spirals into a mess of permit fees and vendor applications, and my brain decides it would rather do literally anything else. My gaze drifts across the room instead.
Tom Brennan from the garage smells faintly of oil and nervous sweat. Sally from the diner keeps darting glances at me over her notepad like she's sketching my mugshot. Even Frank Fletcher is here, which Meredith swore never happens. So what gives?
"...and that brings us to the proposed business development initiative," Mayor Peterson drones, flipping his papers.
That's when the room changes.
It's like somebody flipped a switch. Suddenly every head tilts forward, every pair of eyes sharpens. The energy goes from bored to laser-focused in two seconds flat.
"We need to consider the... compatibility factors," Mrs. Henderson the librarian says, each word dragged out like she's reciting scripture.
"Absolutely." Frank nods sagely. "Multiple options are always better than limiting ourselves to just one... partnership."
I squint. What?
"But what about the natural chemistry?" Dorothy chimes in, clasping her hands. "Sometimes forcing these business relationships can backfire."
"Speaking from experience," Tom coughs, "sometimes the best partnerships happen organically. When the right... elements come together."
I lean toward Meredith and hiss, "This is business talk? It sounds like a dating seminar."
She just grins like Christmas came early and shushes me, her eyes glued to the unfolding circus.
"Of course, timing is crucial," Sally adds, scribbling like she's taking down the Dead Sea Scrolls. "Move too fast and you'll scare off potential... investors."
Mayor Peterson steeples his hands. "But move too slow and you lose the opportunity altogether."
Everyone nods solemnly, like they're discussing nuclear codes instead of zoning permits. Words like synergy, natural alignment, sustainable models get tossed around like confetti, but to me it just sounds like innuendo with a side of town gossip.
Meanwhile, I'm sitting there wondering if we should've skipped straight to the bar. At least then the pounding in my head would come from tequila shots instead of this verbal Sudoku.
When Mayor Peterson finally slams the gavel, the room bursts open like a shaken soda. Little gossip clusters form instantly, voices low but eyes gleaming. The air is thick with amusement, and my gut twists as something awful hits me:
Everyone here is in on a joke. Everyone but me.
"Well, that was... educational," I mutter as Meredith and I head for the car.
She snorts so hard she nearly drops her keys. "Oh, sweet, innocent Violet."
"What? What's so funny?"
We climb in, and instead of starting the engine, she swivels toward me with a grin that could light up the whole parking lot. "They weren't talking about business development."
I blink at her. "Weren't they?"
"Nope." She's practically vibrating. "They were talking about you. And the guys."
"Me and...?" My voice cracks like a thirteen-year-old choir boy.
"The pack formation, honey. The whole town's been watching you and Xaden and Garrick and Liam circle each other for weeks. It's better than cable."
Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I can practically smell my own embarrassment, hot and sharp. "You're kidding."
"Not even a little. Welcome to small-town life, where everybody knows your business, and your love life is the juiciest soap opera they've had since the Henderson twins tried to tip Pastor Williams' cow."
I gape at her. "The whole town is... talking about my love life?"
"Honey, they're betting on it."
