Page 69 of Sugar & Shadows

“We have written permission from the landowners of every farm where we’ve installed them,” Gabe said pleasantly. “It’s private property. The owners can decide for themselves. And they’re already seeing more interest.”

“Sit down, Bitsy,” Marigold called from the front row. “Don’t you see? We’re evolving. This is twenty-first-century shit.”

Giggles floated through the air.

“But,” Bitsy spat, saliva escaping her and all, “this isn’t a startup venture. It’s a town, a town that’s been badly managed by Gabriel Harding.”

There it was. Her underlying agenda. “Mayor Harding has been an excellent resource and partner,” I retorted. “From my perspective, it seems he understands that this town needs to innovate and evolve if it’s going to survive.”

“But this is not how we do things,” she argued, her voice pitching higher. “We don’t shake our asses on TikTok.”

“No one wants to see you shake your ass,” Marigold taunted from her seat. “But Mayor, maybe you could do us a public service.”

That brought on raucous laughter from our audience, defusing the tension.

I shot Marigold a grateful look, and she gave me another wink.

“The state doesn’t get to decide whether we’re worth visiting,” my mom shouted.

Several people around her murmured their agreement.

“We don’t need a festival. We need the maple cams,” another woman called out.

Joy bubbled up inside me. At least people were into this.

“It’s a risk,” Bitsy said. “And we’re in the middle of a recall.”

I was onto her game. Honestly, it was basic and predictable, intimidation, holier than thou bullshit, and finally, manipulation.

“I think I can confidently speak for the people of Maplewood when I say that economic recovery should not wait,” I said, raising my voice. “Regardless of elections, the sooner we scale up these plans, the sooner this town will thrive.”

A large portion of the people in attendance cheered.

“And,” Gabe said when the noise had died down, “I want to make one thing clear.” He sat taller and pulled his shoulders back. “I don’t care whether you recall me or not. I won’t balk if you elect Betsy Ross as mayor. Regardless of how things turn out, I will not stop fighting for this town. Sabrina is brilliant, as I’m sure you’ve all noticed.” Brows raised expectantly, he scanned the room. “Which is why I’ve given her my full support and will work every day to help realize this vision.”

This round of applause was nearly deafening.

I shifted, studying him. Damn. Gabriel Harding had way better political instincts than I’d expected.

He’d been managing all this bullshit on his own for a long time. Dealing with the resistance, the undermining, and the expectation that everything would stay exactly the same. No wonder he hadn’t had a chance to build anything new.

People stood, chatting and milling around. The meeting had gotten completely away from Bitsy, who looked positively violent.

This wasn’t a recall to her. It was a power grab. An attempt to preserve tradition, and with it, a version of Maplewood that only worked for the older generation.

To her, Gabe was an obstacle.

“I thought you were on our side.” She sniffed at me as I was collecting my purse. “Not throwing your weight behind him.” She sneered. “If you really think this internet nonsense will save us, then you don’t understand how this town works.”

“I’m on Maplewood’s side,” I corrected, standing tall. “And I believe that any and all measures, including social media, can be used to save it.”

“You’ve disappointed me,” she said. “I thought you knew how things worked here. But you’re just as arrogant as him. When my father was mayor⁠—”

I held up my hand. I had no interest in listening to this tirade. She’d spent a lifetime steamrolling people and getting her way, and it was time for her to hang up her hat.

“We will succeed,” I said firmly.

Her cloudy eyes narrowed. “Not if I can help it.”