“Thank you,” my mom says with a nod and a small smile, then she turns her attention to my sister. “What are you baking, Mandi?”
“Muffins? I think.”
Mom looks at the chocolate chip batter in a molding pan. “Good luck.” She swipes her finger through the batter and tastes it. “That’s a lot of vanilla.”
“Good, right?” Mandi smiles and waits for my mom’s approval.
She forces a smile. “Really good, Mandi.”
“Can I have a few to take to Gavin with my apology?” I ask Mandi in an innocent voice.
Mom’s eyes narrow, but she’s not going to say anything and risk hurting Mandi’s feelings. If the muffins end up tasting like the batter, then eating them will be more punishment than apology.
“Sure.” Mandi places the trays in the oven.
“Don’t worry, Mom, I’ll make it all good again.” I put my arm around her shoulders, and she eyes me with mistrust. As they say, mother knows best, and my mom’s got my number.
With my muffins in a cute red tin leftover from the Christmas cookie exchange we did last year at Fringe, I open the door to Gavin’s campaign headquarters.
He’s done a lot of work in only a day. A water cooler and coffee station sit by the window. Desks are cleaned off, each with a phone, a penholder, and some office supplies.
“Hey, Erwin,” I say.
“Miss Greene.” He nods.
“Erwin, I’ve known you since kindergarten. Do not call me Miss Greene,” I say with a roll of my eyes.
“Boss man would like me to refer to people with Mr. and Mrs. while I’m working for him.”
“Well, that’s stupid,” I say, and the huff from the back of the room steals my attention.
Gavin says my name like a warning to leave. He rises from the biggest desk in the back. Of course, he has the biggest desk.
Overcompensate much?
I hold up the tin with what I hope seems to be a genuine smile. “I just wanted to apologize yet again for my misstep.”
He walks down the aisle of desks. “You bake?”
Hmm… I’m not sure how to answer that, since I didn’t bake these and I rarely bake, but I have baked in the past, so I answer, “Yes, I bake on occasion.” Not a lie.
I pass the tin to him. He lifts the lid, looks inside, then shuts it before sliding it across the desk to me. “Thanks for the thought, but I’d rather not end up in the hospital with food poisoning.”
“They’re not going to make you sick,” I argue.
He raises his eyebrows and stares at me, crossing his arms. His forearms are corded with muscles. Ugh, why do I care?
“Why would I trust you after you threw a milkshake at me and nearly cut my ear off?”
I lean to the side to look at his ear. There’s a bandage covering it. “Looks intact to me.”
“You cut my ear,” he says, shaking his head.
“And I’m apologizing by giving you these muffins.” God, this guy tries my patience. I slide the tin back across the desk.
“Like I said, no thanks.” He slides the tin back.
I roll my eyes.
“I’ll have a muffin,” Erwin says.
We both turn our attention to him, and he slithers back toward his desk.
“Fine.” I open the tin. “I’ll eat one, then you’ll know they aren’t poisoned.” Grabbing a muffin, I hold it up to my mouth, saying a quick and silent prayer.
He leans back and waits for me to take a bite.
“You know how childish this is, right?” I say, working up the nerve to eat this muffin.
“I don’t think it’s childish. I think I’m making sure I don’t die today.”
His smirk aggravates me, and I’m left wondering why I ever thought his boyish good looks were attractive. Who am I kidding? This attitude of his is turning me on more than when he was a perfect gentleman on our date.
I lean forward, taking a big bite of the muffin, exaggerating my chewing while crumbs fall down my shirt onto the desk below. God, it’s dry and cakey. I continue to chew and chew, the pastry forming a solid ball of dry goop in my mouth. I’m barely able to swallow it, but I manage, coughing after.
“See?” I say with a hoarse voice. “I ate it and I’m still here.”
He lifts his wrist where his expensive silver watch rests. “We’ll give it ten minutes or so, no?”
Again, I roll my eyes, glancing at the water cooler. It looks so refreshing right now.
“I’ll take a muffin. I trust Posey.” Erwin rolls his chair over, staring into the tin.
“Erwin, please make your phone calls,” Gavin tells him, denying him the muffin. Which is good. I’d rather just get out of here and afterward they can talk about how horrible they taste.
“Well…” I clear my throat. “I have to get to work now.” I hold out my arms. “See? I’m alive.”
“You won’t mind if I wait to make sure the ambulance doesn’t show up anytime soon.”
“Suit yourself.” I turn to walk out of his office.
He says my name, and this time it isn’t with the same disdain it held a few minutes ago. I slowly turn.
“Make sure you bring enough water for the 10K race. I heard a rumor that our drink stations are right across from one another on the race route.”
“What?” I didn’t know anything about this.
“Did your mom already fire you? What with you giving her a bad reputation and all?”
I smack on a smile, not allowing him to get to me. “Don’t play games you can’t win, Gavin.”
Erwin squeaks, and his eyes flit from me to Gavin and back.
“Oh, I’m gonna win, Posey. I tend to get what I want.”
A scream lodges in my throat at his arrogance. Where’s the sweet man from the date? I knew he was too good to be true.
“Not if I can help it.”
“Game on. See you at the race then.” He picks up the tin and tosses it on Erwin’s desk. “Next time your mom makes you apologize to me, try and remember that I’m a sugar cookie kinda guy.” He winks.
I hate the fact that my stomach flips. I narrow my eyes, a million snappy remarks on the tip of my tongue, but I have to honor my mom’s wishes. “See you at the race, Gavin. Can’t wait.”
He chuckles lightly.
I walk out of his campaign headquarters, into Fringe, right into my office, where I finally release my scream.
Sunday morning, I’m setting up my refreshment table at the race. Erwin is supposed to be bringing down all the water. I put a Vote Price sign up on the table, along with a few around the grass. Not wanting to ask any of the Greenes to help me since Marla’s competing, I recruited a few Bailey kids to help pass out pins and stickers.
I worried at first that the Sunrise Bay residents would only see me as an outsider, but so far, people have been pretty responsive to me.
Erwin walks down the hill to meet me at the path along the bay, which is the halfway mark for the runners. I stare at how much water he has. One case. As in twenty-four bottles.
“Erwin?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Yeah, boss?”
“We have more water in the vehicle, right? Like, all the water I had delivered?”