Mayor of Macon's Point - By Inglath Cooper Page 0,5

“Mayor McCabe?”

Annie nodded, momentarily struck mute. Charlotte Turner might need sensitivity training when it came to little boys, but she was right on this. Annie would never have put a face this good-looking on a man who was about to do to Macon’s Point what this one was about to do. In her mind’s eye, she’d penciled in something much more weasel-like, sinister, even. And yes, he did look like the kind of guy who would drive a black Porsche or, closer still, head up the ad campaign for one. He had dark brown hair and the kind of lean, high-cheekboned face that spoke of good genetics and an athletic lifestyle. “I, ah, I hope you don’t mind, but my son, Tommy, is joining us for dinner. Tommy, this is Mr. Corbin.”

“H’lo,” Tommy said, staring at the man with open curiosity.

“Hello, Tommy,” he said, looking, to his credit, only a little taken aback. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“We had a little emergency at home,” Annie said, “and I didn’t have time to get him to the sitter’s.”

“Nothing serious, I hope?”

She shook her head. “Oh, no. Just a Saint Bernard, a chocolate cake and a trip to the vet’s.”

He nodded as if he understood, but Annie suspected she might as well have spouted off a paragraph of Greek for all he would understand of that. Her own life was an unending series of such events, and for one un-maternal moment, she wondered what it would be like to have arrived on time with her hair dry and all her buttons in place.

“May I take your coat?” he asked.

“Thank you,” she said, feeling a little awkward as she slipped her arms free of the heavy garment and then helped Tommy slip out of his. He took both coats and hung them on the rack a few feet from their table.

“Please, sit down,” he said. “I went ahead and ordered some iced tea. May I ask the waitress to bring you both something?”

His manners surprised her. J.D. had been used to having other people scurry to do things for him, open a door, “Take your coat, Mr. McCabe?” As for Annie, she’d gotten used to doing things for herself. Hanging up her own coat. Ordering her own drink.

“Your tea looks good, actually.”

“Can I have hot choc’late?” Tommy piped in.

“May you have hot chocolate,” Annie automatically corrected. “And yes, you may.”

“One iced tea and one hot chocolate coming right up,” Jack Corbin said and went off to tell the waitress. Annie helped Tommy climb onto the booth seat, waited while he scooted toward the wall, then sat down herself.

Corbin was back in less than a minute, sliding into the other side of the booth. Before Annie could say a word, Tommy raised his gaze from his Nintendo game and said, “We’re gonna talk bizness.”

Unexpected though it was, the comment served as an effective icebreaker. The man across the table smiled and said, “So we are, but why don’t we order our dinner first?” He pulled three menus from the stand next to the wall and handed one to each of them.

“I can’t read,” Tommy said, but appeared impressed that it had been assumed he could.

“Maybe your mom can take a look at it, then.”

“Sure, honey,” Annie said, anxious to decide on something so she could focus on her speech. “Let’s find something you’ll like. How about the macaroni and cheese?”

“Uh-uh.”

Annie ran her finger down the list of tonight’s specials. “Mashed potatoes?”

Tommy shook his head again, this time with more emphasis.

“A hamburger?”

Another head shake.

“How about some soup?”

“No.”

Annie heard the dissatisfaction in her son’s voice, recognizing where it was headed. For the most part, Tommy was an angel of a child. But ever since J.D. had left, temper tantrums had become a way of life. There was no predicting them, and Tommy’s counselor had told her that she should simply let them run their course, that they were the boy’s way of punishing her for the changes since his father had left. Another notch on life’s belt of unfairness since J.D. had made that decision all by himself, without any help from her.

“Okay,” she said in a reasoning tone, praying that she could head this off, “how about a grilled-cheese?”

“No,” he said, his voice growing louder.

This was not going at all as planned. Sitting across from her was the man who held the fate of this town in the palm of his hand. Annie figured she had one chance and one chance only to get him