Moira looked around the room. “Who else here loves Sweetie’s Bakeshop?”
Applause broke out.
Moira returned to looking at the council. “So, that’s why I’m here. To appeal to you to find another way to build a parking lot on Hannigan Street. I don’t know how. I just know that’s what we need to do.”
Gil finally looked up, but he didn’t meet her gaze. “Thank you, Miss Green. Your concerns are noted and will be discussed at the next town council meeting.”
Moira blinked, waiting for him to say more. To verbally agree with her and give her his support the way he had last night. He wasn’t even smiling right now. “That’s it?”
Gil finally looked at her. “Unless you have something more to say.”
She felt like the breath had been knocked out of her. “No. That’s all I came to say.” She stood there a second longer until Gil said, “Who else would like to talk tonight?” That was her cue to sit back down. Moira turned and headed back to her seat next to Tess.
“Good job, Moira,” Tess leaned in and said.
Moira glanced over. “Why do I feel like it won’t make a difference in the long run then?”
Tess reached over and squeezed Moira’s hand. “At least you tried.”
Moira nodded, too stunned to say anything more. She’d tried, but she wasn’t done yet. This fight was far from over.
* * *
When Moira got home that night, she retreated straight to her bedroom and stripped off her clothes, changing into a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top. Then she stepped out on her deck and looked out on the starry night. Something about the way Gil had been so distant tonight really bothered her. No one on the town council had said anything to make Moira believe they were going to look for alternate locations for the parking lot.
Moira glanced down at her cell phone. She wanted to text Gil and ask him what the deal was. She really had no right though. She’d been shying away from him for years. One night didn’t erase how she’d treated him. Maybe this was payback. If it was, it wasn’t okay. She didn’t want her mom’s bakery to suffer. Whether her mom said so or not, she didn’t want to lose her business. It was her life.
Moira swallowed back tears and looked up at the sky again. She was long past wishing on stars, but what else could she do?
“Hey.”
Moira startled at the unexpected voice. Her eyes searched the darkness, finding Gil standing there. She hadn’t heard him drive up.
“You didn’t answer your door, so I decided to walk around back.” He shrugged. “I know my deck is where I usually am if I’m not inside.”
Moira’s heart was still pounding. “You scared me.”
“I didn’t mean to.”
She relaxed a little bit. “I’m surprised you’re here. After the way you ghosted me at tonight’s meeting.”
“About that…” Gil headed in her direction. He climbed the bottom step and stopped, leaning against the deck railing.
His attractiveness struck her more and more lately. “Yes?” she finally asked.
Gil held out his hands. “Moira, there’s nothing I can do about your mom’s bakery.”
“That’s not what you said last night.”
He shrugged. “I shouldn’t have led you to believe I could help. I wasn’t thinking. I was too caught up in the moment.”
“What moment?” she asked, inwardly denying there’d been any kind of moment between them. Had there been? Was it just her imagination? She looked down and realized she was wearing only a tank top and skimpy shorts. Heat flared through her chest.
Gil seemed to understand what she was thinking. He cleared his throat and looked away. “As the mayor, I have to do what’s best for the town as a whole. The parking issue is a safety concern as much as an inconvenience.”
“I refuse to believe there’s no other way. As the mayor, it’s also your responsibility to protect the livelihood of the people here.”
Gil turned his attention to the starry sky where she’d been looking a few minutes ago. “I know. I would find another way if there was one.”
“That’s a cop-out, Gil. I thought we’d come to an understanding. I thought we were becoming friends.”
He looked at her. “I hope we are. I don’t want to fight with you, Moira. That’s why I came by.”
“Why exactly?” she asked.
“To shoot straight with you about your mom’s bakery.”
Moira lifted her chin. “Well, thank you for being straight this time. I guess I’ll see you around.”
“On Saturday at the festival,” he reminded her. “I’m presenting you with an award.”
“Are you going to take that back too?” she asked, knowing she sounded defensive, but she was defensive.
“No. You deserve it, Moira. If it’s any consolation, I’m sorry.”
Moira gave her head a shake. “It’s not.”
Chapter Eleven
On Thursday morning, Gil hesitated before stepping into Sweetie’s Bakeshop. Some part of him felt like he had no right to be here after basically telling Moira last night that he wasn’t going to fight to save her mom’s business. What could he do though? Nothing. So why did he feel so guilty?
“Mayor Gil!” Darla greeted him as he stepped inside and headed toward the counter. “I’m so glad you came by this morning.”
“Oh?”
“Breakfast is on me.” Darla turned to start preparing his coffee. He always got his brew the same way, with a squirt of chocolate syrup. “Do you want a bagel with cream cheese too?”
“That’d be great, Darla. But I can pay.”
“Well, of course you can. You’re the mayor.” She glanced back at him with a conspiratorial smile. Then her mouth slid down at the corners. “It’s the least I can do for you after what Reva wrote.”
Gil felt the corners of his own mouth falling. “What do you mean?”
Darla shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Everyone around here knows you have the town’s best interest at heart. Even me.” She reached for a lid for his drink, popped it on, and slid it across the counter to him. Then she grabbed a piece of parchment paper and some tongs to lift his bagel out of the case.
“What did Reva write?” Gil asked.
“Well, you can go to her blog to read it, but I wouldn’t recommend it.” She grimaced slightly.
“It’s about me?” he asked.
“And the town council.” Darla lowered her voice. “I tried to get Moira not to go last night, Gil. I really did.” Darla placed his bagel on the counter and looked at him. “But she’s so headstrong. She always has been.”
Gil wasn’t sure what to say right now. He needed to sit down with his breakfast and see what Reva had written. Sometimes the blogger was here with her laptop open this time of day, but not this morning. He was grateful for that. “Thank you for breakfast, Darla.”
“You’re welcome, Mayor.” She offered an apologetic smile.
Turning, Gil looked for an empty table that offered the most privacy. He decided on one along the wall and sat down. Then he took out his cell phone while he sipped his coffee and pulled up a browser to search for Reva’s blog. No sooner had the blog loaded on the screen than a customer walked into the shop. Gil looked up at the sound of the jingle, and his blood slowed. He came into the bakery on the regular, and Denise Berger was never here. What was she doing here this morning?