Page 177 of Sugar & Shadows

Several audience members applauded.

“Have we thought about the potential for television contracts?” Reid asked. “If people watch cornhole tournaments on ESPN, the Maplewood Games could be on national TV.”

“Not yet,” Sabrina said. “But the suggestion is noted.”

“I think axe-throwing would be healing for the community,” Nora Hatch, the local pharmacist, argued. “There’s a lot of unprocessed trauma around here.”

“Engagement metrics do show that uncontrolled chaos is our greatest marketing angle,” Harper replied.

“There should be a parade,” Jenny Wilkes suggested.

“And a pie-eating contest.”

“No, a cheese eating contest.”

“Where can I file my application to be the official cheese supplier of the Maplewood Games?” Basil leaped to his feet, throwing a glare at Lola, who growled in return.

I suppressed a groan. If the rival cheese shop owners got going, we’d be here all night.

“I think we should vote,” Nolan said.

“Wait.” Ethan Calloway strode up to the podium, beaming, his giant teeth glinting in the fluorescent lighting. “May I have one minute to speak before the vote begins?”

Without waiting for a response, he took the microphone and looked around the room, making eye contact with as many people as he could.

“This town is unstable,” he said firmly. “With scandals piling up, bad press, and reactive leadership with no clear plan.” He pinned his glare on me. “Maplewood deserves stability, not internet spectacle.”

His expression was smug. I was tempted to punch him right here in front of everyone. Not because of my own pride, but because of the way he spoke about our town.

“Some people,” he said, glaring at Sabrina, “can afford to move on after failed careers and public scandal. This town cannot.”

My blood boiled in my veins and my body temperature spiked. Oh, he did not just say that.

While I was seconds from stroking out, Sabrina wore an amused expression.

Beside her, Harper was with me, practically foaming at the mouth.

“The future of this town requires modernization. Evolution beyond the tourist traps and folksy gimmicks.”

A woman near the back gasped.

“We can’t talk about the Revolutionary War forever.”

“How dare you.” Bitsy launched herself to her feet.

“Yeah,” Marigold sneered. “What have you done for this town? You seem more concerned with moisturizing.”

Several giggles echoed off the walls.

“Sit down,” a deep voice yelled.

“Leadership requires hard decisions,” he continued. “The current leadership…” He eyed me again, “is distracted and influenced by Sabrina Monroe and her dirty dealings.”

Now a dozen folks were on their feet. Maybe two dozen.

“Sabrina is a hero,” Fern Ashcroft shouted.

“The maple cam saved our farm. We’ve got more orders than we can fill.”