“Ha-ha,” Hadley said.
“This is excellent,” Gran said.
“Mommy, I want one.” Ollie reached out his hand.
“I think you’ve had enough junk food for today, Oliver Wendell.”
“Please.” He clapped his little hands together. “Just a teeny one. Okay, Mommy?”
“Just one,” Kit said.
They all ate while silently watching Cam commandeer the crowd. He shook hands. He autographed old programs, baseball caps, and even a football.
“If he signs that woman’s boobs, I’m leaving,” Mayellen said as she joined them.
Kit’s eyes went wide. “Do women ask him to do that?”
“I’m sure they do.” Hadley tried to look away. She recognized the woman in question as someone from high school, Mabel Martin, who’d always had a crush on Cam. Hadley hadn’t seen her since shortly after Hadley’s breakup with Cam. Mabel had wasted no time telling her that she and Cam had slept together. The memory still made Hadley wince.
Just then, Cam looked over and waved. They all waved back. Except Hadley, who was still a little stunned.
“I knew he was too classy to sign those boobs,” Mayellen said. “He’s still our Cam.”
“He’s drawing a crowd and they all love him,” Gran said.
“But didn’t you say you found homes for two dogs?” Kit asked. “You’re doing well too.”
“It’s not enough,” Hadley said. “Can’t we give something away for free?”
“Like a dog?” Kit asked. “You’re already doing that.”
“I want a dog.” Ollie put his hands on Kit’s cheeks to get her attention, getting blue cotton candy all over her face. “Please, Mommy! Get us a doggie.”
“Rex is our doggie. We don’t need two.” She grabbed the plate from Hadley. “Have another pretzel ball.”
“Nice,” Hadley said, catching Kit’s eye.
Cam’s dad walked up with a ginormous platter of pretzel balls. “Hello, ladies,” he said, handing the platter to Mayellen. “Compliments of our chef, Lucy.”
“More pretzel balls and a babysitter,” Kit said, scoring one. “Thanks, Mr. C.”
“Maddy, you’re looking amazing,” Mr. Cammareri said. He smiled at Hadley. “How are you doing, sweetheart? I heard you’re finding homes for those dogs.”
“Two so far today,” she said. She used to be a fixture around the Cammareri house, and she’d always thought the world of Cam’s dad.
“I just wanted to say hi. And to tell you that my son is strong-willed because of our Italian heritage. But underneath that he’s soft as a baby’s bottom.”
Hadley laughed. Mostly at what Cam would have thought if he’d heard that.
“You should have one, May.” He flashed a smile that looked almost as charming as his son’s.
“It’s not good for my figure.” She waved her hand dismissively. “I’m always trying to lose five pounds.”
“Oh,” he deadpanned. “I was just going to say I thought you needed to gain five pounds.”
Mayellen laughed and waved him off. “Bless your heart.”
“I better get back. Nice to see you, honey,” he said to Hadley. He gave a nod in Mayellen’s direction. “May, wonderful to see you too.”
“Thanks for the pretzel balls, Mr. C,” Hadley said as he waved and made his way back across the aisle. Hmm. Interesting. “Mayellen, is there anything going on between you and—”
“Hush, not a thing,” she said hurriedly, suddenly very interested in selecting a pretzel ball.
“You’re blushing,” Gran said pointedly.
“I am not,” she said adamantly. “It’s just the heat.” Suddenly she pointed across the way. “Will you take a look at that.”
Sure enough, there was Cam, chatting up Mayor Chaudhry, surrounded by all six members of the town council, all of whom were eating pretzel balls and drinking craft beer.
Frustration rolled through Hadley. They’d agreed to play fair. But this…
The mayor would campaign hard for something like a restaurant that brought a lot of business downtown, hands down. Plus Gran had said the mayor, while polite, might still be a little miffed about Gran almost losing her dog.
She had to do something.
“That does it,” Hadley said. “I’m going over there.”
Chapter 16
Cam was handing out craft beer samples and postcards to what seemed like half the town. A line of people snaked before him far down the grassy main aisle of the festival, almost to the big fountain in the park. And he couldn’t pour fast enough. “It’s a local IPA,” he said as he lined sample cups up on the table in front of him. “It’s got a hint of citrus, so it’s really refreshing, and it’s light and crisp. What do you think?” He kept working the crowd, saying hi to everyone he knew and posing for about a thousand selfies.
He had to admit, it was kind of fun. The low profile he’d kept since his injury had kept him away from what he loved best…talking with people. His people, neighbors and friends, all of whom had the same town pride that he did.
“My restaurant is going to serve great beer and great food,” he said to the council members. “It’s going to bring a ton of people downtown.”
“I’m excited for the possibilities,” the mayor said. “Now we just have to get Maddy on board.”
“Why do I have the feeling that getting Maddy on board means getting Hadley on board?” Nick, who’d been helping him out, asked in a low voice.
“Right.” Cam hoped his tone didn’t indicate how impossible that seemed. He’d stepped back to try to let Hadley and her grandma work this out. He wasn’t one to pressure, even if he had just signed a contract with the restaurant executives for the branding and naming of the restaurant chain. Now his butt was really on the line.
His phone vibrated in his pocket. It was Ian. “Hey, Cam. I’m just calling to give you a heads-up. The LA execs wanted to send some reporters over to your local festival today to drum up some interest in the new venture. It would just involve taking some photos at your booth, maybe giving a general statement about the restaurant. Sound okay?”
“Sure, thanks, Ian. I’ll look out for them.”
“Uh-oh.” Nick gestured with his head just as Cam hung up. “Here comes Hadley. And she looks like she’s definitely not on board.”
Cam looked up suddenly to see Hadley standing there. “Want one?” Cam waved his hand over the carefully lined-up beer samples, wishing she wasn’t looking at him like he’d just robbed the bank. He wanted to tell her how excited everyone was about the beer and pretzels. And about his restaurant. But of course he couldn’t.
It took less than a second to see that she was, indeed, royally angry. She stood there, fidgeting a little, doing this nervous thing with her hands she always did when she was mad, and frowning deeply. Yep, he was in deep trouble.
“No thanks.” Her voice was whisper-low but sharp. “I’m here to ask you to please stop glad-handing influencers.”