a slow slide into her seat, as if it were painful to bend over. It was hard for him to keep a straight face.
“Such a vain man,” Grandma continued. “Ignore him.”
“Is Whitney here?” he asked.
“First row. I can’t imagine what time the poor girl arrived. I made sure she knows we’re here for her.”
By the time the rest of the widows and Thalberg family took their places, the room was packed. The widows sat beside each other closest to the aisle, Adam sat beside his grandma, and Brooke was on his other side, near the rest of her family. Though Monica, Emily, and Nate arrived on time, they couldn’t get through the crowd and had to stand near the door. The opposition was already displaying signs: “No Pornography!” “Protect Our Children!”
The town-council members filed in, five men and three women, and took their places at a long table in front. The mayor occupied the center, and that’s when Adam remembered that she was Sylvester’s sister. The expressions of each politician registered shock and speculation at the turnout, which Adam imagined might usually be a dozen people in this sleepy little town. After the call to order and the roll call, the restless spectators sat through the “student of the month” presentation, where the pimple-faced girl looked horrified to have to stand up before so many people; an update from the Economic Development Group; and a discussion of a restaurant’s liquor-license renewal.
“I can’t eat there without havin’ my Manhattan,” Grandma Palmer said loudly. “Give them their renewal and let’s move on!”
The rumbling of discontented voices drowned out the laughter and got a little louder with each successive discussion, until at last Sylvester was called to speak on the item he’d added to the agenda.
“Ladies and gentlemen, Mayor Galimi,” he intoned. “We have strict rules against pornography, and I am here to see that they’re upheld.”
The Honorable Mayor Galimi, a woman in her sixties with short hair she left its natural silver-white, peered over her glasses at her brother, looking like everyone’s idea of a strict, spinster teacher. “Sylvester, what are you talking about?”
Adam and Brooke exchanged a surprised glance. He hadn’t discussed it with his sister yet? Was that good or bad?
“A business called”—he hesitated, as if regretting having to speak the name—“Leather and Lace is trying to worm its way into our innocent, unaware community of Valentine Valley.”
Whitney stood up on the opposite side of the room from Sylvester. She looked slender, unthreatening, but when she spoke, Adam thought her voice calm and rational.
“May I speak, Your Honor?”
“And you are?” Mayor Galimi asked.
“Whitney Winslow, owner of the Leather and Lace stores in San Francisco and Las Vegas. I am looking into purchasing a building off Main Street to open another branch of my store. I sell lingerie, ma’am, and I have a portfolio here with some of my work. Believe me, it is not pornography. Women can wear any type of undergarments they like. The whole point”—she gave Sylvester a frown—“is that they’re worn under clothes.”
Muted chuckles spread through their half of the room.
“Maybe we should have planned a fashion show,” Mrs. Thalberg grumbled. “Or we could have worn our undergarments outside our clothing!”
Grandma Palmer slapped her knee. “Why didn’t we think of that sooner?”
Before Adam could protest, Brooke leaned across the front of him, bracing herself with a hand on his thigh, to whisper at the widows. “Because it would be inappropriate and possibly damaging to Whitney’s cause. Now shh!”
Adam smiled at her, covering her hand with his until she quickly pulled hers away, wearing a blush. All this secrecy was such interesting foreplay.
“But such risqué lingerie will have to be displayed in the store, Your Honor,” Sylvester was quick to point out, “without the benefit of being covered by clothing. I have been talking with my fellow townspeople, and most of us are appalled that—”
His sister interrupted him. “I’m not sure you even have half this room, Sylvester, so let’s not make broad statements.”
Adam and Brooke shared a relieved look. Sounded like the mayor could be impartial.
“You’re welcome to see my catalogue online, Your Honor,” Whitney pointed out. “I admit, some items are only for sale online because they would not be appropriate for a small-town store. My window displays will be tasteful, nothing that you wouldn’t see in any department store.”
“If it’s for sale, it will find its way into her store,” Sylvester insisted. “I have a petition signed by hundreds of people—”
“We do, too, Mayor Galimi,”