Author: Jill Shalvis

Chapter 10

Chocolate is cheaper than therapy, and you

don’t need an appointment.

Two days later, Mallory entered the Vets’ Hall for the town meeting and felt the déjà vu hit her. Pointedly ignoring the stairs to the second floor storage room, she strode forward to the big central meeting room. It was full, as all the town meetings tended to be.

Heaven forbid anyone in Lucky Harbor miss anything.

With sweaty palms and an accelerated heart rate, she found a seat in the back. Two seconds later, her sister plopped down into the chair next to her.

“Whew,” Tammy said. “My dogs are tired.” She leaned back and wriggled her toes. “You medical professionals are slobs, you know that? Took me an hour to clean up the staff kitchen, and I was ten minutes late getting off shift. And I was scheduled to have a quickie with Zach on his twenty-minute break too. We had to really amp it up to get done in time.”

“That’s great. I really needed to know that, thank you.” Mallory glanced over at the glowing Tammy. There was no denying that she seemed…well, not settled exactly, and certainly not tamed, but content.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Tammy asked. “Do I look like I just had a screaming orgasm? Cuz I totally did.”

Mallory grimaced. “Again, thanks. And I’m looking at you because you look happy. Really happy.”

“I should hope so. Because Zach just—”

Mallory slapped her hands over her ears, and Tammy grinned. “Wow, Mal, you almost over-reacted there for a second. One would almost think you hadn’t had sex in forever, which isn’t true at all.”

“How in the world did you know that?”

Tammy grinned. “Well, I didn’t know for sure until now. Mysterious Cute Guy, right? When? The night of the auction when you vanished for an hour and then reappeared with that cat-in-cream smile? I knew it.”

Mallory choked. “I—”

“Don’t try to deny it. Oh, and give me your phone for a sec.”

Still embarrassed, Mallory handed over her phone, then watched as Tammy programmed something in. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure you can’t forget your new boyfriend’s name,” Tammy said. “Here ya go.”

Mallory stared down at the newest entry in her contact list. “Mysterious Cute Guy, aka Ty Garrison.” She stared at Tammy. “Where did you get his number?”

“He left a message for Dr. Scott at the nurse’s desk, including his cell phone number. I accidentally-on-purpose memorized it.”

“You can’t do that—”

“Oh relax, Miss Goodie Two-Shoes. No one saw me.”

“Tammy—”

“Shh, it’s starting.” Tammy turned to face forward with a mock excited expression as the meeting was called to order.

Mallory bit her fingernails through the discussion of a new measure to put sports and arts back in the schools, getting parking meters along the sidewalks downtown, and whether or not the mayor, Jax Cullen, was going to run for another term.

Finally, the Health Services Clinic came up. Bill Lawson stood up and reiterated the bare bones plan and the facts, and then asked for opinions. Two attendees immediately stood up in the center aisle in front of the microphone set up there. The first was Mrs. Burland.

“I’m against this health clinic and always have been,” she said, gripping her cane in one hand and pointing at the audience with a bony finger of her other. “It’ll cost us—the hardworking taxpayers—money.”

“Actually,” Bill interrupted to say. “We’ve been given a large grant, plus the money raised at auction. There’s also future fundraising events planned, including next week’s car wash.” He smiled. “Mallory Quinn talked everyone on the board into working the car wash, so I’m expecting each and every one of you to come out.”

There was a collective gasp of glee. The hospital board was a virtual Who’s Who of Lucky Harbor, including some very hot guys such as the mayor, Dr. Scott, and Matt Bowers, amongst others.

“Even you, Bill?” someone called out.

“Even me,” Bill answered. “I can wash cars with the best of them.”

Everyone woo-hoo’d at that, and Mallory relaxed marginally. Bill had just guaranteed them a huge showing at the car wash. People would come out in droves to see the town’s best and finest out of their positions of honor and washing cars. They’d pay through the nose for it as they took pictures and laughed and pointed.

Lucky Harbor was sweet that way.

Still in the aisle, Mrs. Burland tapped on the microphone, her face pinched. “Hello! I’m still talking here! HSC will bring undesirables to our town. And we already have plenty of them.” Her gaze sorted through the crowd with the speed and agility of an eagle after its prey, narrowing in on Mallory way in the back.

“Bitch,” Tammy muttered.

Mallory just sank deeper into her seat.

“You all need to think about that,” Mrs. Burland said and moved back to her seat.

Sandy, the town clerk and manager, stood up next. “I’m also against it,” she said with what appeared to be genuine regret. “I just don’t think we need to deplete our resources with a Health Services Clinic. Not when our library has no funds, our schools are short-staffed due to enforced layoffs, and our budget isn’t close to being in balance. We could be allocating donations in better ways. I’m sorry, Mal, very sorry.”

The audience murmured agreement, and two more people stood up to say they were also against the Health Services Clinic.

Then it was Lucille’s turn. She stood up there in her bright pink tracksuit and brighter white tennis shoes, a matching pink headband holding back her steel grey/blue hair. She took a moment to glare at Mrs. Burland in the front row. The rumor was that they’d gone to high school together about two centuries back, and Mrs. Burland had stolen Lucille’s beau. Lucille had retaliated by eloping with Mrs. B’s brother, who’d died in the Korean War—not on the front lines but in a brothel from a heart attack.

Lucille was so short that the microphone was about a foot above her head. This didn’t stop her. “A Health Services Clinic would be nice,” she said, head tipped up toward the microphone, her blue bun all aquiver. “Because then, if I thought I had the clap, I’d have a place to go.”

The audience erupted in laughter.

“What?” she said. “You think I’m not getting any?” She turned and winked at Mr. Murdock in the third row.

Mr. Murdock grinned at her, his freshly washed dentures so unnaturally bright white they appeared to be glowing.

Lucille winked back, then returned to the business at hand. “Also, we couldn’t have an HSC in better hands than those of our very own Mallory Quinn. She’s a wonderful nurse and has her degree in business as well. She’s one smart cookie.”

Tammy turned to Mallory. “Did you actually graduate with both of those degrees?” she asked, clearly impressed.

Mallory slid her a look. “You were at my graduation.”

Tammy searched her brain and then shook her head. “I’ve got nothing. In my defense, I spent those years pretty toasted.”

Lucille was still talking. “I know some of you might say that Mallory’s too sweet to handle such a big responsibility as the HSC, and that her programs involving drug rehab and teenage pregnancies will be overrun by dealers and pimps. But we’re not giving our girl enough credit. If she can’t handle the riffraff that her clinic brings into town, well then her new boyfriend certainly can.”

“Oh my God.” Mallory covered her eyes. “I can’t look.”

Tammy snorted. “At least she didn’t call him your lover. And that’s not even your biggest problem. That honor goes to the fact that your only supporter so far is a crazy old bat.”

“You know, you could get up there and support me,” Mallory said.

“Not me,” Tammy said. “I’m shy in front of a crowd.”

Yeah, right.

Lucille took her seat. Four more people had their say, not a single one of them in favor of the HSC. Tammy had to practically sit on Mallory to keep her in her chair.

“Beating them up isn’t going to help,” Tammy said.

Mallory’s phone was buzzing with incoming texts, like the one from her mother that said:

He’s your boyfriend?

Finally, a tall, broad-shouldered guy in faded jeans and mirrored sunglasses stood at the microphone, which came up to his chest.

Ty Garrison.

By this time, Mallory was so low in her chair that she could hardly see him, but to make sure she couldn’t, she once again covered her face with her hands.

“Gee, Mallory, that works like a charm,” Tammy whispered. “I can’t see you there at all.”

Mallory smacked her.

Ty spoke, his voice unrushed and clear. “The Health Clinic will improve the quality of life for people who’d otherwise go without help.”

The audience murmured amongst themselves for a beat. Then came from one of the naysayers, “There’s other places in other towns for people to get that kind of help.”

“Yeah,” someone else called out. “People here don’t need the HSC.”

“You’re wrong,” Ty said bluntly. “There are people in Lucky Harbor who do need the sort of services that HSC will provide. Veterans, for instance.”

No one said a word now, though it was unclear whether they were scared of Ty’s quiet intensity or simply acknowledging the truth of what he said.

“You can keep sticking your heads in the sand,” he went on. “But there are people who need help managing their addictions, people who don’t have a way to find a place to go that’s safe from violence, teens who can’t get STD education or birth control. These problems are real and growing, and a Health Services Clinic would be an invaluable resource for the entire county.” He paused. Could have heard a pin drop. “And Lucille’s right,” he said into the silence. “You couldn’t have a better person running such a place than your own Mallory Quinn. Each of you should be trying to help. I’ll start by donating enough money for a program for veterans, where they can get assistance in rehabilitation or job opportunities, or simply to re-acclimate to society.”