Cade leaned one shoulder against the doorjamb to his father’s office, next to his own, and scrubbed a hand down his chin. “Yeah, it was pretty wild seeing Rosalyn again.”
He’d watched her drive safely away from his parked car at Chug a Mug, then gone home and spent a good three hours remembering her smile before he finally dozed off.
Dad’s graying eyebrows shot toward his receding hairline.
Oops. Obviously, Rosalyn wasn’t what he’d been referring to.
Cade straightened. “I mean, you know—it was busy, trying to meet with Rosalyn about the circus on top of all the community issues that popped up and the Magnolia Days planning.”
“Right, right.” Dad’s all-seeing eyes narrowed, but he was too good at reading a room to push further. He knew when to keep his cards close—a fact Cade had never been more grateful for.
Cade cleared his throat. “Turns out the pothole in front of Chug a Mug is legit. Miley wasn’t exaggerating.” He gestured in the general direction of the paperwork he’d dropped off before leaving the office yesterday. “I told her we’d make it a top priority.”
“Did you, now? Sounds like politician talk to me.” Dad chuckled as he shuffled through his inbox. How did that thick tower of papers not stress him? Cade could feel his blood pressure spiking and he wasn’t even in charge of that particular pile.
“Speaking of politics…” Dad pointed to the chair across from him. “Got a minute?”
No—his overwhelming responsibilities awaited him in his office down the hall—but it was most likely a rhetorical question.
Cade sat.
The clock on the wall ticked a steady rhythm. “You know I don’t like to beat around the bush.” Dad leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk. “So I’m just going to say it.”
Oh boy.
Cade mentally ran through his list of recent potential failures as he hooked one ankle over his knee and kept his smile projecting confidence. Had some other disgruntled community member filed a complaint about him? Had he overbudgeted for Magnolia Days? Honestly, Rosalyn was the most expensive piece of that puzzle, even at what he knew was a heavy discount. If it had been a single performance, she might’ve done it for free. But three performances, during the last three nights of Magnolia Days, required a lot more energy and time away from her big-money gigs at wherever she’d been the last several months.
“—the past few years, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”
Oops again. He hadn’t been listening. Cade tried to focus on his father’s words and not thoughts of Rosalyn. Of the way her eyes crinkled at the corners when she called him “Landry,” or how cute she was when she pretended to be mad and how graceful she looked even while dangling upside down from a bunch of fabric?—
“—don’t you agree?” Dad lifted his chin.
On what? Though regardless, it was probably best if he did. Cade hesitated and then nodded. He needed context clues, quick.
Dad reclined back in his chair, looking…relieved. Okay, so agreement had been a good thing. At least he’d guessed right.
“It’ll be a long transition, don’t worry. And of course you’ll have to officially run. We can’t get around that.”
Run? Cade squinted. He hadn’t run since his failed track attempts in high school, when the coach had busted him for hiding Snickers in his gym shorts pockets. Which was crazy. Everyone knew runners needed to refuel.
“But running should only be a formality. After all, no one has challenged my race the past several terms.” Dad smiled as he tapped his knuckles on the desk. “I’m sure the same will go for you.”
Run. Race. The context clues became all too clear—and there weren’t enough Snickers in the world.
Dad wanted him to run for mayor.
“You’re retiring?” Cade’s voice cracked. But wait. He was supposed to have known that at this stage of the conversation. He sucked in a breath. “It’s going to be weird to see you retire, I mean.” Which was true. Dad had been mayor since Cade was a kid. Butnow—in the midst of the hurricane recovery crisis?
He shifted positions in his chair. “Dad, this is great. But I’m a little worried about the timing.” The timing…the people…everyone loved Cade, sure. He practicallywasMagnolia Bay.
But did they see him as capable of leading their town rather than simply marketing it? He tugged at his suddenly tight collar. Or worse…would they only vote for himbecauseof his dad?
“Your mother and I have been discussing it since my last term. I hung in there longer than I intended, which turned out to be a good thing because of Hurricane Anastasia. But it’ll be good to take a step back. Play more golf.” He smiled. “I’m sure you’ll be a shoo-in.”
Maybe. But to start a campaign—even as a formality—the same time as Magnolia Days? Who was going to dohisjob if he transitioned into his father’s?
His thoughts raced with the same intensity as the pulse in his ears. He still hadn’t confirmed the porta-potties. The food truck vendor battle raged, potholes were popping up all over the city like an endless game of Whack-a-Mole, and he was still waiting to hear back from the animal trainer up north about dancing poodles. Not to mention the permit paperwork that hadn’t fully cleared his desk and the advertising graphics he’d started but not finished creating…
