Page 84 of On One Condition

“They are, are they?”

She sighs heavily. “I mean, I try not to listen, or at least I say that I try not to, but you know I do.”

“Of course, you do. Should I ask what they are saying or are you going to tell me in your own sweet time?”

The little giggle she emits has me shaking my head. “They say you have a woman.”

“First lesson in life, Tootie. If you ever date a man who says he ‘has a woman’, dump him on the spot.”

“Why?”

“A man does not have you. You are your own person with your own thoughts. He can enjoy you and your company. He can want to spend time with you and laugh with you. At no point does he ever have you. Got it?”

“I think you’re going a little deeper than is needed. Should I rephrase? I’ll rephrase.” She clears her throat and sits a little taller. “They, the people in town, say that you are enjoying the company of a woman.”

Smart-ass.

“It’s none of their business what I’m enjoying,” I assert. To an eight-year-old.

“You’re right. It’s not. But it’s a small town, so technically everyone thinks it is their business.” She looks down to where she’s started picking at her yellow fingernail polish. “Are you going to explain to me why Mayor Grossman wants to screw you over?”

I choke on my next breath. “Tootie.”

“What?” she asks innocently enough. “Would you rather me say fu—”

“Nope. Screw works. Screw is just fine.” Jesus. This kid. “Why do you say he wants to screw me over?”

“He was at the coffee shop when Momma was talking to Ellie May about the man she wants to . . . er . . . enjoy.” She winks and grins, but her cheeks turn pink. “And the mayor was sitting behind me talking and talking and talking about how he needs to keep the pressure on you because it looks better for him.”

And there is the answer Hillary and I were just asking the question to. I look up to see Hillary across the hall nodding, clearly hearing Tootie’s whirlwind conversation.

“He’s not exactly in my fan club.”

“You have a fan club? How did I not know this?” She sits up a little straighter. “Do you charge a membership fee? Have a paying Patreon club where you reveal extra tidbits? How. Did. I. Not. Know. This?”

“It’s an expression, Tootie. A turn of phrase. It’s not a real thing.”

She waves a hand at me. “And to think you got me all excited about nothing.”

“Was there more you wanted to say about the mayor?” I ask.

“You need to kill him with kindness. That’s what Momma says to do when Alex teases me.” She rolls her eyes dramatically. “A fist to his nose sounds better in my opinion, but apparently killing him with kindness works even better.”

“Sure. Yes. Okay.” There’s no way I’m going to tell her I vote for bopping Alex in the nose. But I do.

“What did you ever do to him, anyway?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” I shrug. “He’s just an opportunistic . . .”

“Asshole? Is that the word you were going for?”

It’s Hillary’s turn to cough out a laugh.

“Something like that.” I fight my own smile. “Why are you trying to help me, Tootie Tootie Bo Footie?”

Her grin is ear to ear from the nickname. “Somebody has to because, in case you didn’t know, it’s a dog-eat-dog world out there, Ledger.”

“Clearly.” I nod, trying to keep a straight face. And then it dawns on me. “Hey, do you want to help me with something?”