As sleep creeps in, my mind blurs—calls I need to make, emails to write. Luna’s voice. Her face. The echo of her touch.
Then it all goes dark.
The next morning moves fast, even if my sleep-deprived brain feels like it’s trudging through mud. In Washington, I’d chase the exhaustion with Red Bull and caffeine pills, and keep powering through.
Back when I thought I was superhuman.
Until I learned the hard way that I’m not.
Now, I stock up on water and pace myself.
At noon, Ash and I grab smoked sausages from the food truck out front. I load mine with hot mustard and sauerkraut. He sticks to ketchup—a simple guy. It’s good to have his company. He doesn’t talk about work nonstop like I used to.
Armed with napkins, we claim a bench under a tree. It filters out the worst of the sun and offers a small mercy of breeze.
“You going to the festival this weekend?” he asks, around a bite.
“I’m working on Gabriel’s opening remarks with communications, “I say. “I’ll be there for that part. You?”
“For sure.” He wipes ketchup from his beard. “I go every year. They close off the waterfront on Saturday and Sunday. Family stuff during the day. At night, Docks Bar does a pop-up. There’s a bonfire, food, music—Chaz, the dude I told you about who owns the café—headlines. C can sing the crap out of any song and plays a wicked guitar.”
“My younger brother’s coming in on Saturday. He’d be down for that.”
“Great timing,” Ash says. “Town’ll be hopping. Gotta give Rayne credit. These big-draw events only started after she became Director of Tourism.”
I swallow sausage and bread, acting like her name doesn’t land anywhere near raw.
“She’s going to be a big loss,” he continues. “I heard she resigned to put everything into campaigning. But that’s Rayne. No half-measures.”
“You know her?”
“Since we were kids. I was several grades ahead, so we weren’t friends like that. But everyone around here knows Rayne. She’s a waterfront activist. Has been for years. I’m not surprised she’s running.”
“Any insights?” I ask, aiming for casual. “Background info. More than what’s in her bio.”
“She’s well-liked,” he says, swigging Coke. “Smart. Sociable. Deep in the community. Not afraid of hard work—or a challenge. I think she’s gonna give Gabe a run for his money. So you better bring it.” He laughs.
I force one out, too.
“What about her personal life?” I ask.
He sends me a sideways look before answering. “Her mom passed away when she was young. It’s just been her and her dad since. Mo. Great guy. Writes kids’ books.”
“I saw them at The Ship Mate last night. Didn’t realize he was her father until he introduced himself.”
“You thought she was on a date.”
“I wondered.” I shrug as if that wouldn’t have sent me into a spiral.
“Rayne’s never been married. And she’s not dating anyone that I know of. No one serious, anyway… not since Hollis Brown. That was a while back. Rumor is he cheated.”
Everything inside me tightens. “Does he live here?”
“Nah. Moved somewhere near Gary. Indiana,” he clarifies, watching me a little too closely as I mask my relief. “His parents are still here, though. Why?”
“Gathering intelligence.”
“Is that what you’re calling it?” He grins.
