Page 6 of Sugar & Shadows

“At the mayor.”

Gabe stared at me, nostrils flaring, and peeled the tortilla off his lap, then dropped it onto the plate between us. “Good to know your conflict resolution skills haven’t improved since middle school.”

A rush of anxiety pummeled me. Between my explosive anger and the scrutiny of people I hadn’t laid eyes on in a decade, my instincts were telling me to run.

“Thank you for a lovely evening.” Sneering, I picked up my bag and coat. Then I headed for the door.

Every eye followed me.

Good.

Let them stare.

Head high and shoulders back, I strutted to the exit. My reputation had already been destroyed in DC; let Maplewood judge me.

The parking lot was dark, quiet, and slick with patches of ice. Focused on the gravel so I didn’t slip, I rounded the side of the building.

I was still a dozen feet or so from my car when a loud clang startled me, making me come to an abrupt halt.

I held my breath and scanned my surroundings.

Another clang. Then the dumpster rattled.

Squinting, I assessed the large metal container. I’d taken a step toward it when a black bear emerged.

I reared back, putting distance between us, but my heel caught on a patch of ice and I tumbled to the ground and landed with a graceless splat.

“Fantastic,” I muttered, scrambling to my feet.

As I stood, I wobbled. Shit. My heel. It had snapped clean off.

“What the fuck?” I yelled at the bear as I backed up.

She was only ten yards away. And she had a glittery pink shoe hanging out of her mouth.

Heart pounding, I threw my arms out. “What’s your funking problem?”

A strong hand clutched my wrist, pulling me back.

“Get back,” Gabe hissed. “Don’t yell at her.”

“She started it,” I argued, jabbing a finger her way.

“She’s a bear.” He tugged me against his annoyingly hard chest.

The irritation flooding me because of the bear’s antics only multiplied. Of course Gabe was ripped.

I shoved him away.

“Fuck you,” I yelled at the animal. It wasn’t that big, by bear standards, and I was done playing nice.

I chucked my broken heel at the bear, though it hit one of the dumpsters with a loud thunk instead.

“These are Jimmy Choo,” I shouted.

“Don’t taunt her,” Gabe gritted out. “That’s Betsy Ross.”

I turned and glared at him. Of course my Podunk hometown had named the beast. “I’ll take my chances with the bear over a man anytime.”