Page 41 of Slow Hands Cowboy

Feet of clay and all of that.

“Which restaurant are you going to?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t say. You don’t think maybe at the resort…”

“No. I would imagine that he wants something a lot more visible. It is Friday night, so if you go to La Befana I think that you’re going to see a lot of the people that need to see you. The people who will be spreading gossip around like wildfire.”

“Great.”

She knew that Walker was trying to reach beyond the borders of Mustang River, but honestly, for her purposes, she just needed it to impact the people here. She wanted them talking about her in an interesting way, a positive way, rather than shaking their heads and cringing at her embarrassment. He was right. It had to be big. They had to take this and turn it on its head.

And she did have to care a little bit about what was being said more broadly about her reputation, because if she was going to be the mayor of Mustang River, then where her reputation went, so did the town’s, and the town had worked so hard to become the best version of itself.

To become a place where people could actually afford to live. They had fought through decades of real financial lows brought about by changes in the cattle and timber industry, and they had found their place with tourism.

That needed to keep going. It needed to keep getting better, and she really did feel like she was the person for the job.

For one hysterical moment, she thought about getting on a live video broadcast to all her followers with Walker and just hard launching.

That would seem cynical.

They had to avoid seeming cynical, because they needed people to spin it into a love story.

It almost made her want to laugh, because nothing could be more cynical than this.

Walker didn’t even like her. She didn’t like him.

The heat in her stomach called her a liar, and she chose to ignore it.

Just because he was hot didn’t mean that she liked him. And just because she thought he was hot didn’t mean that it was an action item.

She got off the phone with Anna, and then she nearly passed out from nerves as she dialed her father.

“Any new developments?”

“Well. Yes,” she said. “That’s why I’m calling. Walker and I have worked out a plan.”

“You and Walker?”

“Yes. You’re not going to like it, but you need to know about it.”

To her surprise, her father did seem to like the idea.

“I think it will work neatly,” he said. “Considering the damage that was already done, I think people like a romance, and this will give them something romantic to cling to, and it will round out the story. Politics is all about crafting a good narrative.”

She understood the importance of Mustang River on a personal, visceral level, but when her dad started talking about it like he was a shark from Washington D.C. she always had to suppress a sigh.

She supposed it was a good thing that he took it this seriously, but still.

“I agree. We agree. But I just wanted you to be aware that’s what was happening.”

“I’m glad that you told me. I would’ve worried about you if I thought that were true.”

Of course he would. Because he would worry about her being hotheaded, hot blooded, impetuous like her mother was.

“I’m not telling mom,” she said.

He didn’t really say anything. Not to that directly. “Has your mother been in touch with you?”