Evans Creek Book 1: Mister Mayor

TWENTY-FOUR

Photo Credit: cookies-thedailymeal.com, woman-bestlifeonline.com

Arguments between friends are much more fun to imagine than to write.  Once it starts going on paper, it is easy to let it get away or go off on a tangent.   In my first version, they were eating cookies and milk instead of brownies and coffee.  And Graham's snarky come back was something along the lines of: "So what you're saying is, we go together like cookies and milk?" as he dunked and took a big bite to keep from laughing as Arayna stuck a finger in his face and corrected him.  "The POINT is..."   But I gave them a bit more mature debate, but kept some sass and fun.  Oh, and another scene I added to give Ray a little friendly pay-back.

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"I was going to say desperation. Something like: Mayor Morgan is so desperately lonely that he hired an escort! Logically the next step is: Mayor Morgan lost his moral compass when his lovely wife, Pamela, passed. Of course, that could only mean: Mayor Morgan's questionable morals make us wonder what kind of example he's setting for his young son."

She crossed her arms and offered him a challenging look.

"If you found 'one of those', you would find yourself out of office before the ink had a chance to dry on the papers."

"Well then." He sat back, thinking. After a quiet minute he leaned forward. Resting his elbows on his knees, he loosely clasped his hands and looked her in the eyes as he asked, "What do you suggest I do?"

"You can't get one of those," she tipped her head to the side and looked right back at him, "but you need a girlfriend."

"I do?"

"You do."

"And if not one of those," the air quotes were back, "then who shall I get?"

"This is a small town. Word travels fast and since you live here too, she'd better be a local or they'll say you think you're better than them and that's just as lethal to a political career as getting one of those."

"A paragon then." He shook his head. "Bill was right. I'm screwed."

"It just so happens I know just the girl." He cringed when he saw that look—this couldn't be good.

"Enlighten me." He almost hated to ask, but he hired her for her help so he might as well hear her out.

"Me."

"You?" His eyebrows shot up to his hairline and he almost choked, although he wasn't drinking anything.

"We can pull this off. Shall I enumerate?"

He nodded, since his voice was stuck in his throat. This really couldn't be good. He cringed when she drew a breath and held up her hand to count off the reasons on her fingers. Her index finger came up.

"One: While I wasn't born here, I've lived here long enough that I am FROM here. I'm one of them."

The middle finger unfolded to join the first.

"Two: You have your golden boy reputation, and I have my good girl reputation. I still call my father Daddy and everyone knows that I left a big fancy job in D.C. to come home and take care of him after Mama died and he had his stroke. I'm a good, dutiful daughter."

The ring finger uncurled.

"Three: My Mama was a good Christian woman who was involved in the church and volunteered in the community when she was alive. Daddy was a career veteran. I come from good American roots."