Page 6 of Small Town Schemes & Summer Kisses
“For texture and to hold syrup.” Caroline dropped her fork, watching as it tumbled to the porcelain plate with a sharp, resonating clang echoing through the quiet cafe. “Can you imagine? Someone putting so much thought and planning into a breakfast food?” She slumped back into her chair. Her outburst left behind only a quiet, unfilled pause. “I can’t even get the town to update our street maps.”
“Bless your heart,” Gigi said. “You need more syrup in your life.”
“What I need is to update Max and his pelican. We need to get everything together by Memorial Day.” Flipping through her planner, Caroline started counting off squares. “It’s only thirty-nine days.” She picked up a bright pink highlighter and drew a square around the last Monday in May.
“Isn’t Memorial Day later this year?” Mabel continued to rummage through her oversized bag as she dropped a purple bottle on the table. “I knew my dauber was in there somewhere. I’ve been looking for this since I was at the Senior Center.” She looked at the marker with unflinching satisfaction before rolling it over to Gigi.
Caroline cringed. If Mabel was looking for her dauber, then the Bingo Queens, as the town dubbed them, had already put together a card.
“I wish Daddy were here. He’d be able to guide me through this. I know nothing about marketing.”
Gigi lifted a manicured eyebrow. “And your father does? Listen, Caroline. You’re the best mayor since your daddy.”
“I’m the only mayor since Daddy. Let’s talk about what’s important, then. How am I going to get the right Instagram-able photo op before summer?”
“Everything’s online these days. Count me out.” Mabel made a face. “I like my gram without the Insta. Thank you very much.”
Thinking, Caroline picked up the pen again and tapped it on her lips. “Maybe if we update the boardwalk with some string lights, we could do a retro-style campaign. We could even have Max do it in his absurd pelican style.”
“Absurd!” Gigi gasped, her hand covering her mouth. “That’s the word I was looking for. You’d be better off enlisting Boomer. At least you can hear him several counties over.”
No one knew what Boomer’s real name was. He had been a fixture in the town since Caroline had been coming for summer vacations with her parents. He was known for standing on the corner of the boardwalk and announcing Bluebell Bay’s news and gossip every afternoon at four o’clock sharp. When he wasn’t playing the role of town crier, he could be found entertaining tourists with his ukulele, tuba, or one-man band contraption he carried around on his back.
Caroline closed the notebook, placed the pen carefully in the rings of the spiral, and dropped her head on the table. “One week and I’m already a failure. If we don’t get more tourists to town, I’m afraid of what might happen.”
Mabel leaned forward, lowering her voice with the dramatic flair usually reserved for soap operas and surprise pregnancies. She tapped Caroline on the arm. “You know who you should talk to?”
Caroline didn’t look up. “If you say the universe, I swear—”
“Carter Beckett. He used to be somebody in marketing.”
Caroline lifted her head. “Beck?”
“The very one. What would call him, Mabel?” Gigi snapped her fingers.
“A fixer?”
“Yes, that’s a suitable term. He worked to repair the reputation of the senator who was caught having an affair with his assistant.”
“Too bad the assistant was his ex-wife,” Mabel mumbled.
“What?” Caroline’s ears perked up.
“What?” Mabel grabbed a piece of toast, sinking her teeth into it before chewing with hurried motions.
“Point is,” Gigi continued, “you should look him up. He could probably help you.”
“I’m not a senator who was caught in a compromising position.”
“Just think of the story he had to spin to get that politician out of that mess,” Gigi chortled loudly. Caroline lifted her fork again, dragging the doughy square through the syrup on her plate. “I can’t imagine Carter Beckett doing that.”
“I heard he was ruthless.”
“Ruthless,” Mabel echoed.
“One day he’s a big deal in the big city, then poof!” Gigi gestured with her arms theatrically. “Now he has a surfboard, hammock and a poor attitude.”
“I do not need a surfer with a poor attitude.”
