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They were there to judge a contest between two towns. End of story.
“Trey Marshall,” Trey said sternly. “And these are business partners,” he said, gesturing to the two men who stood beside him.
“Isaac Glover,” Isaac said.
“And I’m Chance Clark,” Chance added.
“What?” Her eyes widened even more. “Wait. You’re the judges? Like THE judges? Oh, my goldfish. You’re the judges for the TITS award? Oh, my god. But—”
“The TITS award?” Chance asked, teasing her. But she wasn’t taking the bait.
“Yes, it’s an acronym around these parts because no one can remember the Theresa Ingram Tarrington-Smith Small Town of Excellence Award,” she said with a straight face.
But there it was again. All her emotions were delivered through her eyes, and they remained continuously curious about her. But at the forefront of all her thoughts was her trying to figure out how she fucked up the dates so badly as to when the judges were supposed to arrive. Poor thing.
“What happened to your face?” Chance asked.
“What?” she asked innocently.
“Your face,” Chance said, pointing to her lips and cheek.
“Oh, don’t worry about that. Here at BT, we’re all about excelling in our enterprises, and as mayor, I make it my duty to be hands-on when it comes to our entrepreneurs. That said, one of my constituents is launching a new moisturizer, and to show my support, I offered to be a test subject, but it turns out I’m allergic to lavender. Who knew?” She laughed, and their cocks hardened.
“You need to see a doctor,” Isaac said, closing the distance between them. He reached out and touched her face. She winced so prettily that their blood started to roar in their veins.
Chapter Five
Trey was beginning to think that allowing their grandmothers to arrange their marriages for them would have been easier than meeting the Mayor of Bloomings Tide.
There was something about her that just kept hitting them in the gut.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” she said, referring to her face, which was anything but nothing. “It’ll clear by tomorrow. I—Can you give me a second, please?” Not surrendering the bunch of fabric, she held to her chest, she spun around, her back facing them now. They could see her slip her hand into the pocket of her dress. She retrieved a white glossy card that was at once familiar to them. It was the stationery their grandmothers used.
With her head bent, it looked as if she were scrutinizing the card, but why on earth was she doing that?
She spun around and faced them, her whole face flushing even more now.
“Yes, you’re the judges, and you’re supposed to be judging BT today, July the...”
“Fifteenth?” Isaac asked, helping her.
“Fifteenth?” she asked, but then nodded. “Right, July fifteenth is when you were supposed to be here to judge us, not July eighteenth. July fifteenth,” she said, and she looked as if she were going to cry.
“Did you get the dates wrong, Mayor Kalista?” Trey asked.
“Absolutely not at all,” she said without blinking. “100%, we are ready to go.” She clicked the fingers of her one hand and nodded enthusiastically. Clearly, she was convincing herself in the process, too.
“Yes, everything is indeed in order. We here at Bloomings Tide have put together a spectacular production that you won’t ever forget. Or see anywhere else. It’s a rendition of Cinderella told through dance. Our stage is simply breathtaking. We’ve spent days, weeks working on it.” She swallowed and took a breath.
“But it’s just not a play, Mr. Marshall, Mr. Glover, and Mr. Clark. This production truly showcases the coming together of an entire community, lending our skills, time, and creativity, toward one common goal which is to win the award because we are the best town to do so. But that is not all. We have a real treasure right here in Bloomings Tide.
“She is known across the world for her ethereal dance. Her mesmerizing presence. You might have not known this, but Bloomings Tide is home to Celeste Bradshaw, or as she is known to the world, Celeste. Her dance is poetry as attested to by millions across the globe. And she’s our star. She’ll be our Cinderella. I hope you’ll see the camaraderie, the togetherness that we put into this play to make it work.”
“And your stage is complete already?” Isaac was deeply invested in whatever this woman was saying.
“It is.” She didn’t sound convinced of it herself.
“May we see it before the play?” Chance asked, playing along.
