Audra glared at the coffee table and her pages of disjointed notes. “Not well.”
Her manager sighed again. “Are you still having trouble sleeping?”
“Yes.” Although Audra had a feeling her stress was less about her writing and more about the recluse down the road.
“The clock’s ticking, Audra.” Benita was tapping her pen against her desk.
“I can’t hear it over your constant nagging.”
“Believe me. You’d rather hear my nagging than a music producer’s complaints.”
Her manager had a point. “I’ll have something to you soon.”
“Do you need an extension on your deadline?”
“No.” Audra reclaimed her notes from the table. “I’ll keep working on the songs. I just need to clear my head.”
“All right. Keep me posted.” Benita disconnected the call.
Audra tossed her cell phone to the other side of the sofa. The lyrics were stuck in her brain, just out of reach. She needed to get them out. How?
“Shouldn’t you be at work?” Jack led Darius into his great room Thursday afternoon.
“I’m on my lunch break.” The reporter gave him a critical once-over. “You look better.”
“Is that why you’re here?” Jack folded himself onto his armchair and rested his right ankle on his left knee.
“Don’t flatter yourself.” Darius sank onto the sofa. “My father wants to be mayor of Trinity Falls.”
“I know. He stopped by yesterday.”
Darius’ scowl darkened. “He also wants a prominent role in the Founders Day Celebration. What made you think that would be a good idea?”
“Me?” Jack frowned at the other man. “How’s that my fault?”
“He said you suggested it.”
Jack’s memory returned. “I didn’t realize he’d take me literally.”
Darius’ sigh was deep. “I know you don’t want any part of Founders Day or the sesquicentennial in general. But Doreen doesn’t need my father’s interference on this, as well as the campaign.”
“I know.” Jack scrubbed both hands over his face. “How can I fix this?”
Darius stood to prowl the great room. “No one can reason with either of my parents, especially my father.”
How could two self-centered people like Simon and Ethel Knight have a caring offspring like Darius? Their selfish genes must have canceled each other out.
“Doreen can handle him.” Jack hoped.
“Probably.” Darius stopped in front of the fireplace with his back to the room. “Even if my father gets his name on the ballot, I won’t vote for him.”
Jack empathized with his friend’s conflict. He’d never vote Simon into public office, either. Not while he was sober. “You have to decide who’d be the better choice. No one can make that decision for you.”
Darius turned to Jack. “Who do you think your great-great-grandfather would vote for?”
Jack frowned. “Why?”
“He founded this town. Who do you think he’d want to run it right now?”