He floundered, then waved his hand. “My group is coming. We’ll have to put that off for another day.”
“Uh-huh.”
The mayor’s golfing party reappeared, not seemingly put out he hadn’t rejoined them. I made sure to keep him plied with an endless supply of rye and water, followed by lunch. His wife had not been happy on the phone. I had heard her loud argument from where I sat on the bench, sipping a bottle of water. Not the actual words, but the tone of her voice was enough to let me know she was furious. Still, somehow, the paperwork was miraculously found and approved. When I received a message from Abby telling me she had the paperwork in hand, I was grateful I could leave. I’d had quite enough of the mayor, his wife, and his stories to last me a lifetime.
I stood and shook his hand. His eyes were clouded with all the alcohol, his words slurred. “Remember, you owe me,” he said, pointing his finger at me. “I’ll be in touch.”
“You do that.”
I walked away, trying not to laugh. He’d probably not remember any of this, or if he did, the details would be sketchy. All I had done the entire time was make a lot of noises and nod my head. Like all politicians, no matter how small-time, he liked to hear himself talk. I stopped at the clubhouse entrance and spoke to the manager. “The mayor is a little under the weather. Make sure he gets home safely. Don’t let him drive.”
He looked past my shoulder with a resigned stare. I had a feeling it wasn’t the first time the mayor had been under the weather at the course. But I refused to allow him to drive in case he had an accident. I didn’t want that on my conscience.
There was enough there already.
Back at Sunny’s, I found Abby at a table in the bakery. She looked up as I walked in.
“Hey, boss.”
I sat down heavily, feeling exhausted. “Hi. Why are you working down here?”
She grinned. “You’re right. The biscuits are addictive. I could smell them all morning, and I was hungry. I came down to have something to eat and decided I liked it down here.”
I inhaled the sweet smell of cinnamon, sugar, and butter. “It does smell good.”
Abby’s eyes danced. “Sunny let me help in the kitchen for a bit.” She held out a plate. “I made these.”
I took a cookie from the plate, taking a bite. “Good job,” I mumbled around my mouthful. “If you get tired of being my sidekick, maybe Sunny will hire you.”
“She has a job here anytime she wants. I get the feeling you’re a bit of a tyrant.” Sunny’s arms draped around my neck, her voice a low hum in my ear.
I wrapped my hands around her wrists, pulling her tighter. I looked up, meeting her amused gaze. “I think I’m an awesome boss.”
She dropped a quick kiss to my lips. It took everything in me not to pull her back and kiss her harder. Longer.
“Uh-huh,” she responded, releasing her embrace and sitting beside me. She studied me. “You look exhausted.”
I ran a hand over my face. “I am. Between the mayor and his wife, it’s been a day.”
Sunny made a sympathetic noise in her throat. “She’s a handful.”
“When did she become deputy mayor?”
“Not long after your father died, I think.”
I shrugged. “She hated me as a kid, and it appears she still does. She didn’t try to hide the fact this morning.” I snorted. “Pretty sure after today, the hatred has grown to loathing. She’ll make any request that has to go through town hall difficult.”
“Why does she hate you so much?” Abby asked. “I mean, who hates a kid?”
I shrugged. “No idea, but she always has.”
Sunny pursed her lips, looking over my shoulder. There was something in her expression that made me lean forward. “What?”
“It’s probably nothing.”
“Tell me anyway.”
“I went to meet my mom at work at the hotel one day after school. I always used the employee entrance. It was a nice day, so I waited outside, sitting on a picnic table the staff used for breaks. It was sort of off to the side where no one would see it.” She paused, looking nervous.
My curiosity was piqued. “Keep going.”
“I saw Mrs. Tremont come out the back door and head to her car. She looked around as if she was making sure no one saw her. I remember wondering why she came out the back and not the front. She always liked to be seen.” Sunny swallowed. “As soon as she drove away, a man came out the same door. He did the same sort of sweep of the area, then he left.”
“So, she was having an affair,” I surmised.
“I think so.”
“Did you know the man?”
Sunny nodded, her voice quiet. “It was your father, Linc.”
15
Linc
Hours later, I was still reeling from what Sunny had told me. Mrs. Tremont and my father had an affair. I had no idea how long it lasted, but obviously, she must have had strong feelings about him, given her actions and the words she had flung at me this morning.
So many things made sense now. How my father always seemed to be one step ahead of the mayor in so many things. His wife must have been feeding my father information. I wondered how often they met and how they kept it a secret for so long.
I wondered if perhaps that was why she hated me. Had she thought she would be a beneficiary in my father’s will? Had he made her promises while I was younger about them being together once I was gone?
He must have been an even better actor than I gave him credit for.
The man I knew had no emotions. At least no positive ones. Once my mother died, any sort of decency in him had gone to the grave with her. He used people, then discarded them when they no longer had a use. I was sure he knew exactly how to manipulate the mayor’s wife—string her along with false promises, use my presence as an excuse for whatever was needed at the time. I could imagine vague assurances, untrue murmurs of the future, declarations of feelings that were false, since he was incapable of any.
The mayor had always been easily led. My father made fun of him behind his back, often stating he was the one pulling the strings. He had them both duped—in fact, he still did. She felt wronged, not by the affair they had, but the promises he had never fulfilled, and she was blaming me—the way he had all those years. The mayor still thought my father was a great man, proving he was the idiot my father always said he was. I would give him that much.
I was so lost in my musings that a hand on my shoulder caused me to jump. Sunny smiled in apology and sat across from me, sliding a plate in my direction.
“You’ve been in here for hours, Linc. You must be hungry.”
I looked at the plate, my appetite strangely absent. I pushed it away. “Maybe in a while.”
I rested my elbows on the table. “You never said anything to me—years ago—about this.”
Sunny frowned. “I never had any proof, and I only saw them the one time, so I couldn’t be certain. I thought at the time it was possible for it simply to be a coincidence.”
“But you don’t think that now.”
She shook her head. “My mom and I talked once, years later. I told her what I saw. She said your father had a permanent room at the resort. One on the main floor, at the back. He also had keycards to get in any door. It wasn’t common knowledge, although there were rumors.” Sunny sighed. “She saw the mayor’s wife leave his room more than once.”