Page 57 of Check You Out

I huff. “Fair. Where are you meeting him?”

He gestures to Triple C across the square. “There. I figured if anything happens, and I needed backup, I could just wave Nicole over, and she would probably beat him up.”

I reach into the bag and take out one of the scones. It’s still warm from the oven. Taking a bite, I let out a moan. “Give your dad a scone. They’ll melt the heart of anyone.”

“I’m also going to ask him about Gott.” He bites into one of his and swallows the buttery pastry. His Adam’s apple bobs as his throat works.

I set mine on the bench wrapped in a napkin. “What? Why?”

He leans back against the wooden slats. His gaze travels to the Farmers’ Market beyond. A band is starting to set up on the other side of the square. A piece of me wishes I’d scheduled this for later in the afternoon, so I didn’t leave the store alone, and so that we didn’t have to deal with all the chaos of the first Farmers’ Market of the year.

But he doesn’t seem to show any discomfort. “I’ve just got this feeling about Gott and that office of his. It might seem paranoid. But something isn’t adding up. You said that he wants the money in the budget for the renovations, which is why the budget cuts are happening.” He breathes, his chest expanding.

I cross my arms and swish my lips over my teeth. “Do you think Gott might be up to something?” My nostrils flare. “It’s plausible. Especially given my suspicions about his fiancée.

He doesn’t say anything, only slightly nods his head.

I blow air out of my mouth. “Like what?”

“At a minimum, a conflict of interest,” he says. “Possibly some sort of fraud or embezzlement. I don’t know.” He grits his teeth.

“Your father was in local politics, right? He might have an angle that could help.”

He nods. “He’s also a tax attorney. He understands finances.”

“Do you want me to go with you?”

He shakes his head, and I see a hint of a grin. “I’d rather meet with him by myself.” He sucks in a breath of air. “I want to improve things with him. Having you there might distract me.”

“Nicole and I can make his life miserable.” I take another bite of the scone. “I still have his number. We’ll sign him up for every single email list we can find.”

He chuckles, but his arms and legs stiffen. “Appreciate it. Mind if we change the subject?” His knee starts bobbing.

I grin. “What other stores have you been to in town?”

His body relaxes, and that hint of a grin turns into a smile. His dimples flash, and my stomach does the flippy thing again. “Just the bookstore.”

I stuff the half-eaten scones in the bag and grab his hand, dragging him in the direction of the dozen or so stores in downtown Summerville. “Come on, let’s go.”

24

Aidan

23 Days until the Council Meeting

The following afternoon, I arrive at Triple C a few minutes early to find Dan sitting at a table on the front porch of the café. I’m not surprised he’s here early. Despite being a shitty father in every other way, he was early to every event I had growing up.

“Hey Dan,” I say. Anxiety makes my limbs heavy as I walk up to him.

“Aidan.” He rises and goes to open his arms like he wants to hug me but freezes.

For a brief second, I consider not accepting his embrace. Honestly, I think this is the first time that my father has offered me any sort of physical affection, other than the occasional pat on the back.

I think of Charlotte and what she would do. She would probably crush his ribs in a massive hug. Sighing, I open my arms and step to him. As we touch, he stiffens but softens into it after a heartbeat. He taps me on the back twice and steps back.

“Glad you found the place.” I gesture to the café behind him.

Dan shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans, which seem oddly casual for him. He gestures to the café and the town square. “It’s a nice little town.” He opens his mouth to say more, but nothing comes out. After a few seconds, he releases the breath he was holding and remarks, “Look, Aidan, I, uh, well.” He lifts his arm up to rake his hand through his hair in a gesture that I suddenly realize resembles something I do. “I’m not good at this shit. This whole being a decent dad thing. I’m sorry.”