Three City Hotshots and a Small-Town Girl

By Chloe Kent

Kalista Chapman, the twenty-three-year-old mayor of the small town of Bloomings Tide, is determined to win the Theresa Ingram Tarrington-Smith Small Town of Excellence Award, or the Tits Award for short.

Other towns in the running have their signature wines and marmalades, their historic museums, and their upstanding take on sustainability and energy conservation - okay fine that's a good one.

But Bloomings Tide has what no other town has.

Celeste.

The world-renowned pole dancer, who only dances for kings, princes, and billionaires around the world. Her charisma is mesmerizing, her aura magnetic.

Celeste is going to knock the three billionaire judges off their feet and win the prize for Bloomings Tide.

Easy.

But nothing goes to plan for Mayor Kalista

When their interfering grandmothers decide their grandsons need a small-town experience, they send them to be the judges of an award that happens every five years. To say the three billionaires are beyond grumpy about their assignment is an understatement.

Except they have no idea what they're in for when they meet Kalista Chapman.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chloe Kent
• Release date: Oct 19, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223427995

Book preview

Chapter One

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Kalista Chapman could not contain the excitement bubbling up inside her as she faced the members of Bloomings Tide Events and Recreational committee, all twenty-eight of them.

It was finally actually going to happen.

The run for the Theresa Ingram Tarrington-Smith Small Town of Excellence Award, better known as the TITS Award, was back on. While everything else had gone to the dumps in the meantime, as the Mayor of Bloomings Tide, Kalista still believed they were in with a huge chance of winning this time around. No shenanigans attached.

She had been waiting since the day she was voted in as the mayor of Bloomings Tide thirteen months ago for this chance. Invitations were customarily sent out a year in advance to give the towns enough time to prepare.

She had already discussed huge inventive ideas with Tiny Finn, who owned the orange grove, and together, they were going to make the best marmalade the world had ever seen before.

Sure, other small towns were going to feature their jams and preserves as well, but Kalista was determined to make their marmalade completely unique by adding different complimentary flavors, like bacon-flavored marmalade or candy floss, chocolate, or hazelnut-flavored marmalade.

They were also going to experiment with other spices and herbs and infuse things like star anise, vanilla, or cardamon. The sky was the limit. She was also going to get their resident writer, Amelia Gainsfield, to write up the ingredient list as if it were a romance story, like the ingredients falling in love and getting married because that was what had happened, and the love was in the taste.

Their jars were going to be pretty unique goblets made by Ernst Erstwhile, their local glassblower, and they were going to be collector’s items.

Kalista had such big plans.

But instead of an invitation, there’d been rumors that turned quickly into facts from reliable sources that the over-century-old competition had been scrapped. Nothing had made Kalista more despondent. She wasn’t going to get a chance to redeem the Chapman family name.

But then, just that morning, she received the glorious handwritten signature invite, the stationery so luxurious, she couldn’t stop touching it or inhaling the smell of it. The invitation had arrived by post, and since then, she hadn’t been able to breathe.

The competition was back on.

She had also received an emergency email from the office of Theresa Ingram Tarrington-Smith—which was unusual since all correspondences came in by post—to let her know that the contest would only be held between Bloomings Tide and their arch-rival Hopeturns Spring. All the other towns had declined on account of the invitations arriving on too short notice.

But none of her previous plans from a year ago would come to fruition now. So much happened during the year, and they had absolutely nothing to show for it and no time to prepare anything either, not when the judges were arriving in Bloomings Tide in three days' time after they had spent the previous three days in Hopeturns Spring.

Their resident glassblower and writer had moved to the city, so there were no love stories on their pretty goblets to show. Tiny Finn, who was supposed to be their star marmalade maker, closed shop when his new young bride ran off with his adult son instead.

Featuring a museum would be a good backup ... if they had one, although Reggie Turnsturn insisted, he was a museum unto himself because he believed he was abducted.

By aliens.

Bloomings Tide had its fair share of odd bits, but it was also the friendliest and most charming town on this side of the Catskills, even if Kalista said that herself. But she had wrecked her brain trying to come up with something on such short notice.

Then, at 4 a.m. that morning, when she had fallen asleep only to be whacked in the face with her phone, which she had been holding and making notes on, she was hit with a grand idea.

What they had, no other town had.

Bloomings Tide had a showstopper.

Something so unique, brilliant, and beautiful that the judges were going to be rocked out of their seats and hand Kalista the award because nothing could beat their act.

Okay, Bloomers, she said, sitting at the head of a very long table in the town hall, which was a few tables linked together so everyone could have a seat.

A raucous giggle erupted from the other end of the table and echoed around the high ceilings of the hall.

Good morning to you too, Henny, Kalista said, smiling.

Bloomers, he repeated, carrying on chuckling. Henny Newton was eighty-seven years old and developed a hearty chuckle over words he thought were funny.

As you know, we got an invitation to compete in the TITS award—

Tits. Henny was laughing his eyes out now.

Thank you, Henny, she said again, then continued. And as you know, the judges arrive in three days, and we are very unprepared. But—

Did you get my letter, dear? Maribella Hartley interrupted her, and she knew it was going to be a while before she got back in control.

What’s that on your face? Sid Samuels asked, pointing to her left cheek.

Did you get my gift card? Mrs. Autumn shouted.

Did you do something about the death threats I’m receiving? I don’t feel safe, Mayor Kalista, and it needs to stop. Jennifer Harris, her part-time secretary, said, glancing around at everyone as if they were her enemies.

Mayor Kalista, I would like it noted that Ruby Davis is now banned from my salon. I know what she said about me to Maggie—

What? What did I say, Anne? Ruby Davis jumped up from her seat, ready to throw a punch.

You said I was getting fat.

Well, you are. Anyone with eyes can see it.

Well, anyone with eyes saw you trying to grab Doc Hottie—I mean, Dr. Paulson.

Oh, and you’re holier than— Ruby shouted but was interrupted by Benedict Broadstein.

For the love of all that is right, Mayor Kalista, have you done something about Reggie and that damn goat of his? If it eats my wife’s underwear from the washing line once more, I’m going to take matters into my own hands, Benedict said, red-faced and furious.

Kalista took a big breath, lifted the whistle she kept on a piece of string around her neck for these kinds of meetings, and blew into it. It was the only way to make herself heard.

She enjoyed the silence for a few moments before she dove right into it.

Okay. Yes, thank you, Maribella. I did get your letter. While we’re very saddened by your decision, we also completely understand.

Satisfied with Kalista’s response, Maribella offered her a proud smile before she settled back into her seat.

Thankfully, the other maker of preserves in Bloomings Tide had just the day before written an extensively detailed formal letter to Kalista, stating she would be declining any offer to represent the town in the TITS award on account of her not being able to handle the fame at her age when she won.

Maribella Hartley was eighty-eight years old and had taken up the hobby of making preserves a year ago because someone needed to after Tiny Finn’s collapse. To say her concoction was an unappetizing blob of ... something unearthly was an understatement.

It was downright revolting, but Kalista was determined that no one in Bloomings Tide would so much as twitch a muscle when tasting Maribella’s jam or, worse, say it was terrible to her face.

She made Sheriff Jenkins put it down as Bloomings Tide law that anyone who so much as grimaced about Maribella’s ‘jam’ would be sentenced to a month of community service, which entailed sweeping the streets and washing all the windows in BT.

What harm was being done? Would it be so bad if Maribella woke up every morning for the rest of the time she had left on earth, thinking she was the best jam maker in the world? It kept her mind off the devastating loss of the love of her life, her husband, Al, twelve months ago.

"As for what’s on my face, Sid, I