Rebel at Spruce High (Spruce Texas Romance #5) - Daryl Banner Page 0,81

it in bright, curly letters meets my eyes. Inside, the moody lighting reveals that we’re at the most “upscale” place a country town can provide, judging from the fancy décor and a good portion of the clientele wearing suits or dresses. We’re brought to a big table off to the side where Mr. and Mrs. Porter are already seated, happy to receive us. Mr. Porter’s belly is squeezed into a brown suit, and his bald head shines with the light from a chandelier above. His wife is a stiff twig of a lady whose own coldness makes my mother look as warm as a summer Bundt cake fresh from the oven. An orange handlebar mustache frames Mr. Porter’s thin lips, and while his eyes appear welcoming, his voice carries a more-than-obvious hint of condescension, like everyone automatically reveres him without knowing the first thing, and the world is a plate from which he’ll feast and sample whatever he pleases.

I also soon learn during dinner that he’s the mayor of Spruce. As in: Mayor Raymond Porter.

A little heads-up from my parents might have been nice.

Also, the restaurant we’re in is actually in the outskirts of a neighboring town called Fairview, and is owned by Nadine Strong, which Mayor Raymond is quick to point out. “I find it a bit funny,” he says, smacking his lips as he cracks into his lobster, “that we’re enjoying a nice meal in the restaurant of a woman who is actually thinking of running against me.” He chortles privately at that.

I’ve barely touched my plate. And I don’t like the way he says the word “woman”. And I’m usually not so quick to judge someone within five minutes of knowing them, but I don’t like this guy.

And I’m deeply regretting not going to Biggie’s and hanging out with Toby. I’d take one of their Tackler Burgers over this fancy and uncomfortable lobster dinner with the mayor any day.

“You’ve run unopposed for … how many terms now?” asks my dad, keeping the conversation light.

“Oh, it doesn’t matter how many years I run. I’ll run as many as I like. Spruce has no term limits. The people are happy. What’s this fuss with Nadine gettin’ her pantaloons in a knot? Probably not seemly of me, to talk ‘bout her in her own restaurant like this. She and I go way back, too. No bad blood there, but that woman’s been born with a spotlight over her head, and shoot, if she don’t have half the town talkin’ ‘bout her, she might as well be dead. Pass the bread.” My dad obliges with enthusiasm. Raymond rips a dinner roll in half and slathers it with butter. “Gets me to thinkin’, what was it we were talkin’ ‘bout the other night, Joe?” He guffaws when it comes to him. “Ah yes, taxes. About that …”

I’ve checked my phone five times since sitting at the table and haven’t said a word. I don’t know why I’m expecting Toby to just randomly message me while he’s working, or call me to say he’s off early, or literally anything to give me an excuse to get out of here. It wouldn’t matter; I’m stuck here, a not-a-walkable-distance outside of Spruce, at the whim of this stupid dinner.

My mom also hasn’t said a word since greeting Raymond and his wife, I’ve noticed. The pair of us sit next to each other, silent and eating. As the time crawls by, the table grows loud with my father and the mayor’s chatter. It’s obvious my dad just wanted to present some kind of united family front to impress the mayor. I should have taken the hint when he asked me to change my shirt before leaving the house.

“Of course, yes!” my dad exclaims to something I’ve missed. I look up just in time to find him dabbing his mouth with a napkin and gesturing at Mom. “My wife Amelia would be so delighted to assist in whatever way she can, should it really come to that. She’s had years and years of experience in marketing, campaigning for various brands, even had a stint up in New York when—well, you go ahead and tell him, darling.”

Like the switch on a robot being flicked on, my mother comes out of a well of darkness and puts on a smile. “Yes, that’s accurate, though I do think he inflates my worth just a tad,” she says lightly, inspiring an amused guffaw from the mayor and an eye-squinting smile from