Page 21 of Fake It Till You Make It

“Gas prices.” Tobias grimaced. “Cost me an eighth of a tank to drive to the station for a fill-up.” Eli amended his previous musings that Service had everything he needed. On the docket for the next council meeting was the reopening of a medical clinic along with a gas station that didn’t require a twenty-minute drive south into Landing Falls.

“Yeah,” Eli sighed, “I know.” Minimum wage had increased a few years back. In theory, it felt like a win for most of the folks trying to squeeze a living out of a town without any manufacturing plants or federal agencies close by. Retirees moving from high-cost surrounding states—Ohio, Pennsylvania, and Maryland—drove thehousing prices beyond the reach of most locals. To afford the monthly mortgage on the single-family homes going up in nearby Whynot, it would take triple the wages for half the square footage. Unbeknownst to his mother, he’d done some recognizance just in case he couldn’t sort out the mess with the bank.

“Saw you talking with Bucky.” Tobias waited for Eli to pick up the conversation. He didn’t. Instead, he sipped his beer, letting the chilly liquid spread through his mounting to-do list, ice crystals freezing the mass in place, a brief reprieve from the avalanche aimed at him.

“So,” Tobias gazed over at him, “how’d it go with Amarie?”

“Worse than I could ever imagine,” Eli said, studying his mug.

“Oh yeah?” Tobias’s voice rose a bit. “She was that bad?”

“Nope,” Eli said, shifting his ball cap further back on his head. “That good. And now Mom’s thinking she’s right about this bachelor auction.”

And that’s when he heard it. Amarie’s laughter. And why did his pulse rev like a V12 engine? Must be indigestion. Eli watched his mother and Amarie socializing with the people he’d known since birth, having a good time. Everybody in town had come to meet the new girl with the BMW he had yet to see.

“Look at them.”

Tobias glanced over his shoulder, the corner of his mouth lifted into a smile. The sound of his mother’s laughter eased the pressure around his heart, too. He was sure Tobias felt the same. With his father gone, they worried about her alone in that big house. It was one of the reasons at least one of them joined her for breakfast every morning.

“I see their inflated heads floating from here.” Eli smirked.

“Hmm.” Tobias sighed, taking another swallow of beer.“It was impressive what Amarie did with Adele. Dad used to call that ‘having the touch.’”

“Oh, you missed the best of it. She actually won over Mrs. Kline this morning.”

“No fooling?”

“It gets better,” Eli chuckled. “She managed to get all the ladies who usually wander into the office to squeeze my butt to pay for the pleasure.”

“Mom and Amarie. Sounds like you got yourself a dynamic duo.”

“Huh, guess I do,” he chuckled, but then the laughter stuck in Eli’s throat drier than a week-old dog biscuit. “But I don’t want a partner.” Not anymore.

“Wow. At least Amarie is working toward your goals. She’s not one of Mom’s plants trying to get you down the aisle.”

Tobias was right. Amarie wouldn’t spend a cent on him. Dang it, that irritating thought made him think about the auction. On that, he wouldn’t budge.

“It’s not ‘wow’ in the least,” he said, rapping his knuckles on the scarred wood table. “Would you just look at those two soaking up all this attention?”

“Not all of it.” Tobias faced Eli, his brows bunched. “Naomi, the day shift dispatch operator, turned the siren on when I walked in the ambulance bay this morning. She waved one of Mom’s pink flyers in my face, and then demanded I strut my stuff.”

“See,” Eli barked. “That’s my point. Me, you, and Noah, we’re laughingstocks.”

Tobias took a huge gulp from his half-empty mug. “Trust me when I tell you, Naomi wasn’t laughing. In fact, she growled at me twice before lunch.”

“What did you do?”

“Ate in my truck with the doors locked.”

“Smart man. Now, about Amarie.”

“I can see why you had your doubts. But is it really that bad, Eli? Having somebody on the staff who can maybe help share the load? She actually added to the bottom line.”

“Who do we know with a BMW and Louise Vuitton luggage, T? A woman like her won’t stick around.” His wife hadn’t.

“It’s Louis, not Louise. And yeah, you’re right about our lack of an affluent social network. But you know how Mrs. Kline gossips. It could be fake news.”

“Yeah, but she’s not that inventive.” Amarie was as polished and creative as she presented.