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Their grandmothers’ right-hand woman. She may as well be their executioner; she was always the bearer of fucking bad news.
Trey, Isaac, and Chance watched in stunned silence as she ushered in three of her henchmen carrying what looked like their luggage into their office.
“Chop. Chop. There isn’t any time to waste. A car is waiting for you outside with the navigation already set. I took the liberty of packing your bags,” Agnus said, gesturing to the three leather duffel bags, which were now lined up on a sofa. “Your suits will be delivered tomorrow. Since the award was previously canceled and then resurrected on short notice, only two towns will be participating; hence, you will be away for about a week.
“Three days in Bloomings Tide and three days in Hopeturns Spring. These are the details of the mayor’s office in each town.” She flipped open a leather file and withdrew two folders. Just like their grandmothers’ Agnus dealt with things the old-fashioned way. With pen and paper.
“The towns are eagerly awaiting your arrival, and you can be guaranteed top-notch hospitality. Oh, and a message from your grandmothers: Should you not do this, you will be opening your lives to a world of pain when they bring arranged marriages back onto the table, and trust me, this time, they’re not going to give you a chance to say no.
“Personally, if you cherish your freedom, you will take a week out of your life and do a sturdy job of selecting a winner for the Theresa Ingram Tarrington-Smith Small Town of Excellence Award. Gentlemen, I wish you a wonderful time experiencing the geniality of the countryside. I know you will make your grandmothers proud.”
With that, Agnus clicked her fingers, and her three henchmen followed her out.
The three of them looked at each other. They ruled the world, and they allowed their grandmothers to rule them. It was pretty damn funny.
“We better get this over with. One week away is better than having them throw brides in our faces.”
Trey and Chance agreed.
Chance opened the folders Agnus had left on his desk, and Trey glanced at them uninterestedly. The first file had a picture of the Mayor of Hopeturns Spring, Mike Spring, age forty-two. The population of Hopeturns Spring: seven hundred and fifty-eight.
The second folder...
It didn’t go unnoticed that they each took a second glance at the image staring up at them. And then they justified it silently and collectively with the fact that she was unusually young to be a major albeit of a small town.
Kalista Chapman. Twenty-three years of age. Mayor of Bloomings Tide. Population: Five hundred and four.
Isaac was right. If they did this one thing, they could get their grandmothers off their backs for another five years at least.
They just had to show up at these damn towns and pretend like they knew what they were doing.
After storing their luggage in an SUV, they took off. The destination that was set in the GPS by the overly efficient Agnus was Bloomings Tide, Mayor Kalista Chapmans’ territory.
Clearly, they had no idea what the fuck they were doing already.
Chapter Four
Bloomings Tide was probably no different from any other small town, except that it seemed like a ghost town. The streets were empty. All the shops along the main road looked closed up already, and it wasn’t even 4 p.m. yet.
“Are we in the right place?” Isaac asked, sitting in the front passenger seat of the SUV while Trey drove, and Chance sat in the back.
“It’s definitely Bloomings Tide,” Chance said, reminding them of the massive Welcome to Bloomings Tide sign they saw before turning onto the countryside road. It had taken them around a three-hour drive to get from the city to the small town.
For all his grumpiness, Trey couldn’t deny the town had a sort of rustic charm that almost soothed his dark mood.
Damn those grandmothers of theirs. They were clearly retaliating after he, Isaac, and Chance refused to be married. The small-town award had been scrapped a year ago for reasons they didn’t know because it wasn’t in their line of duty. But now suddenly, it was back in action, and they were picked as the fucking judges. It was so painfully apparent that they were being punished.
As he continued driving through the empty streets the commercial side of the town gave way to the residential side, which was equally quiet. From there, it wasn’t hard to miss the mayor’s house, which, according to their itinerary, was where they had to show up.
“Fuck me,” Chance said, laughing as they all took in the sight before them. A series of garden gnomes, fifteen of them each holding up a letter to spellThe Mayor’s House, spanned across a lush lawn flanked with furiously blooming roses.
They climbed out of the car, straightened their clothes, and slipped back into their suit jackets. They adjusted their cufflinks as they scanned the area around them.
“So much for a welcoming committee. Isn’t that a small-town thing?” Chance asked lightly.
“Yeah, well, we’re definitely in the right town at the right place because Agnus doesn’t fuck up,” Isaac volunteered.
The three steps that took them up to a brightly purple-painted door were also bordered with flowers and more garden ornaments.
