I tried to play it cool as I hung my jacket on the hook and said to Aunt Rita, “Yeah, I thought you were going to be at work tonight.”
Aunt Rita sat back, crossed her legs, and smiled. “Well, I got my days mixed up. I work late tomorrow.”
“Oh, well, I have to get to bed. Big day tomorrow. Christmas Tree Competition,” I called as I hurried up the stairs. “The library will be packed. Night!”
When I was halfway up the stairs, I looked back to see William taking his jacket off and making small talk with everyone. William looked up at me.
“Good luck tomorrow, William.” I wasn’t even sure he could hear me. I turned and hurried up the rest of the stairs, down the hall, and up the back flight of stairs.
I shut the door and leaned on it. I was a little out of breath. I stood there for a second. I could feel my heart pounding, and I tried to tell myself it was from hurrying up the two flights of stairs.
I crossed the room and sank into the sofa. Aunt Rita and I had converted the attic into a small two-bedroom apartment when we remodeled the rest of the house. It was modest, but it worked for us. Most importantly, we were able to rent out the oversized bedrooms for income.
I sat up and looked at a stack of bills Aunt Rita had left on the coffee table. I decided not to look through them then. It would make me feel too anxious to fall asleep. I headed to my room and got ready for bed.
The next day the library was busier than even I had anticipated. I offered to man the circulation desk, and Trent offered to set up in the meeting room to announce the winner. When Nick arrived for the announcement, he was followed by a photographer, videographer, and an incredibly hip-looking young person with a cell phone.
“Good morning, Kit,” Nick said. “We’re here for the announcement.”
“I can see that! And who are these folks?” I asked, nodding toward the entourage.
“Oh, that’s the media team William connected me with,” Nick said. “They are helping the city tell our story on social media and the website. They’re following me around for a couple of weeks to get some content. I thought this would be a good way to showcase the diversity of the community and different community groups.”
Someone called out to Nick, and he waved. “I’ll see you later, Kit.”
I watched a steady stream of community members come into the building. I was busy helping many of them sign up for library cards and check out books. Trent peeked his head out of the meeting room and waved me over. I put up our “Away” sign on the circulation desk and headed over to the meeting room. I stood in the doorway and listened to Nick’s speech.
“This year we had ten teams participate in the competition. More than ever before. This is particularly important because to participate each team had to raise money. All the funds go straight to the Boys’ Lodge and the Girls’ House here in town. Let’s give all our teams a round of applause,” Nick said into the microphone. When the room quieted down, Nick continued. “Now, the winner of the competition is selected based on popular vote. And I know we all have our personal favorites. Each vote costs a dollar, and people are allowed to vote as many times as they want. This year we raised more money from voting than we ever have before. So, let’s give the Creekstone community another round of applause.”
I had to admit; Nick was really stepping into the role of mayor. Nick continued through his speech. He took a picture with each team as they came up to get their participation plaque.
“And now the moment we’ve all been waiting for. Drum roll, please,” Nick said, opening the envelope. “The winner of this year’s Creekstone Christmas Tree Competition, raising a whopping $15,000 for the Boys’ Lodge and Girls’ House, is the Senior Citizens’ Center!”
The program manager, Rhonda, jumped out of her chair and let out an excited whoop. The community room applauded and cheered. Rhonda and two of her staff members joined Nick at the front. It took me a minute to realize that this was William’s tree. I couldn’t believe it. There must have been some mistake.
As Nick was posing with the group and their trophy, Rhonda grabbed the microphone from Nick. “We just want to say thank you to Braithway & Randall. We couldn’t have done it without their support. Where’s William?” Rhonda scanned the crowd, then pointed. “There he is.”
William was at the back of the room, clapping. When everyone turned to look at him, he gave a humble polite wave and then shoved his hands in his pockets.
My face must have shown how shocked I was because Trent nudged me with his elbow as he clapped for the winners.
“That’s not fair! William’s company bought all those votes!” I whispered to Trent.
“Just remember, Boss Lady, that’s a lot of money for kids living in foster care.” He whispered back from the side of his mouth.
I shook my head to break myself out of the shocked daze. “Oh right. Of course. So great.”
I looked back at William, and he was looking right at me. He raised his eyebrows, and his crooked smile broke out across his face. I rolled my eyes and went back to the circulation desk. That would be the last time I made a bet after drinking three glasses of wine.
Chapter 6: William
I scanned my work email inbox one more time. No new messages. I wasn’t used to being so out of the loop. I knew that Mr. Braithway wanted me to focus on Creekstone, but I hadn’t thought that he was serious about this being all he wanted me to do. I had only been in Creekstone for a month, and my division had almost completely transitioned me off their projects. Anytime I tried to jump in on an email thread to contribute or offer help, I would get a text message from Marla in the Atlanta office reminding me to stay in my lane.
My cellphone rang. I saw the name of my deputy division director, Meredith, pop up.
“Finally! Someone is calling me,” I said, sliding my finger across the smooth surface of my phone to answer.
“Meredith, how’s the Philly project shaping up?” I asked.
