“Sure,” Paige replied and moved the giant stack of posters that had Maisie’s face on them, along with her lame slogan,‘For a better New Orleans,’to a table in the back.
Maisie’s campaign headquarters was her bookshop. She had an apartment, but it was a studio, and while her campaign team was only three or four people, she didn’t want them to roam around it and possibly find the drawer where she kept her vibrator while searching for a stapler or something. So, they used the back of the shop where her family used to host book signings. Book tours were still a thing, but they didn’t happen as often as they used to and didn’t bring in as much money, either. The space could only fit about twenty people comfortably, thirty if they pushed it, and forty would get them a visit from the fire marshal, but it was more than enough space for a small campaign headquarters with two long tables and a few phones on top of them. She had the landlines for the shop, so she hadn’t needed to buy anything extra for campaign phones, and she had the phones in the office from back when they had actually needed a few in the store. She put them all out on the tables, hooked them up, and set up everything else to make it look like she knew what she was doing, which she didn’t.
“I didn’t even know people still made campaign posters these days,” Paige said with a slight cough.
“Are you still sick? You said you were better. I can’t get sick, Paige,” Maisie replied.
“I’m okay. I think it was a twenty-four-hour thing. Lainey brought me soup last night and stayed to take care of me. I woke up feeling much better.”
“If you still need rest, it’s okay. I can make these calls on my own.”
“No, it’s fine. I coach a high school girls’ soccer team and volunteer at the local youth center. I’m used to begging people for money and them saying no.”
“I guess you would be, yeah,” Maisie said. “This phone is yours. When Lainey gets here, she can take the one in the middle. She’s still coming, right?”
“Yeah, she should be here soon. She’s running practice without me today, too, because she doesn’t want me to get the girls sick.”
“But she’s okay with you gettingmesick?” Maisie asked.
Paige laughed a little and said, “I’m not sick, and I told her that, but she said I should help you and she would cover practice. I told her I should go to practice because that’s my actual job, but we only have fifteen girls who can play right now, with the three injuries we’ve got and two academic suspensions. That means only one extra goalkeeper and three substitutes. If one of them goes down, we’re screwed.”
“I’m running for political office here. IfIgo down, who’s running my campaign if I’m not?”
“Lainey would; you know that. And I’d help. We’re here for you, Maise. I promise, I won’t get you sick, okay? Maybe drink one of those vitamin C drinks just in case, though.”
“What?” Maisie asked, eyes wide.
“Hey, what’s going on back here?” Lainey asked as she joined them. “Hey, babe. How are you feeling?”
She walked over to Paige, leaned down, and kissed her.
It used to be strange, watching them kiss like that. Back when they first started dating and Maisie had no one new for herself, it was easy for her to wish that she and Lainey had worked out and that Paige would disappear, but it had been years now, and she could see how much they loved one another. Lainey and Maisie loved each other, too, but not in thesame way, and that was okay with Maisie now.
“I’m good,” Paige replied. “I was just telling Maisie here that I’m feeling much better and I’m prepared to make her some campaign money.”
“I’ll help,” Lainey said. “Oh, Maise, you’ve got a line up there. Three people. Not much, but you might want to run up and check on the register. Another guy just walked in, and you know how slow Sarah is. I swear, it takes her ten minutes to ring someone up. Why do you even let her work here?”
“She’s slow on the register but fast with reshelving, and she uses her employee discount to buy books with her paycheck because she’s in high school and has no bills. I think I actuallymakemoney with her working here. She boughttenbooks last week.”
“Well, I’d check on the line if I were you. Do you have the names and numbers for us to call?”
“Yes, Paige has them.”
“Come here, baby. Let’s get to begging people for their hard-earned money so that our friend here can be a city councilor,” Paige said, pulling on Lainey’s hand.
With the two of them handling the phones, Maisie made her way through one of the three aisles in the shop, which had floor-to-ceiling shelves on all three walls, including the one behind the tables. She hoped no one needed anything from back there, but when she reorganized the place after her grandma died, she put the least popular book sections in the back and rarely sold anything from them.
“How can I help you?” she asked the customer who had picked up a New Orleans guidebook that she always kept on the front table to attract tourists.
The man was dressed in what looked to be a very expensive suit, while Maisie would be the first to admit that her own fashion taste was jeans and a T-shirt, with a sweater over it most days. On the rare occasion she needed to dress up for something, she wore a dress from Target or Amazon that was flattering but not exactly expensive or probably in fashion. This guy’s suit was navy with pinstripes, and under that, hehad a steel-gray shirt, with a navy tie completing the look. His shoes looked like they cost more than her rent each month and were shinier than any pair of shoes Maisie had ever seen. When she finally looked up at him, she realized that he looked familiar. Then, it clicked.
“Colter Stone,” she said, mostly to herself.
“You remember me,” he said. “Or maybe it’s the bus ads you probably see driving by here all the time.” He motioned to the street outside. “I have an ad on the billboard at the corner, too, so that could be it. Vote Colter Stone for a new, modern New Orleans.” He made a motion to indicate that he was reading his slogan from the billboard that she had to look at every day when she drove to and from work.
“What are you doing here? Need a book?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I thought this was your campaign headquarters,” he said, tucking his hands casually into his pockets as he looked around her shop.
