“Disgraceful. Wonder what her integrity costs these days.” In the middle of the argument, the group administrator posted the official report from the voting. The numbers showed that Anna and Mike had received exactly the same number of votes—not one more, not one less.
“Well, there’s your answer,” somebody wrote. Anna set the phone facedown on the table. As an adult, she knew better than to take strangers on the internet too seriously, but inside she was burning with humiliation.
She kept imagining that if she stepped outside, every person she passed would see her as that woman from the video. Anna let out a slow breath and realized the tea in her hands had gone cold. She wanted to shout at the screen that for twelve years she had been teaching local children the difference between watercolor and acrylic in a little art studio downtown.
That she was the teacher who scrubbed paint off their hands and noticed when a child’s drawings turned dark because things were hard at home. At her age, a reputation takes years to build and one ugly rumor to damage. Her phone buzzed again. This time it was a number she didn’t recognize.
“Hi,” said a familiar voice when she answered. “This is Mike. Yes, that Mike—the one who apparently knows how to lose with style.” He paused. “At least I hope so.”
Anna laughed despite herself, pressing the phone closer to her ear, and some of the tension that had built all morning finally began to loosen. “Style is one word for it,” she said. “The whole town is now discussing your little bow and… everything that followed.”
“Yeah, my staff got awfully quiet when I walked into the office this morning,” Mike admitted. “I’m pretty sure they’ve all watched the video more than once. How about you—have you been reading the comments?”
“Trying not to, but my phone keeps lighting up,” Anna said with a sigh. “According to the internet, I’m a scheming woman who staged the whole thing.” “And I’m the innocent victim of your charms?” Mike said dryly.
“Apparently. A couple people actually messaged me to say, ‘Mike, how could you let her play you like that?’ I had no idea this town was so invested in protecting my honor.” Anna sighed again. “See? You’re the local hero, and I’m the villain of the festival.”
“I’m no hero, Anna,” he said, his tone turning more serious. “Honestly, I feel bad this landed on you the way it did. I was trying to lighten the mood, and instead I helped put you in the line of fire.” “It’s not your fault, Mike,” she said, pressing her lips together. “It was just a chain reaction. A dumb one.”
“A dumb one that’s now setting viewing records,” he said, his voice softening. “Listen, I’d like to make it up to you somehow.” “And how exactly do you plan to do that?” Anna asked, smiling in spite of herself.
Mike was quiet for a moment, choosing his words. “Truth is, I feel awkward about what happened onstage, but I also can’t quite bring myself to regret it. If I hadn’t done that ridiculous bit with the flowers, we probably wouldn’t be talking right now.” “Interesting logic,” Anna said, smiling again. “So your position is that a town-wide scandal is the ideal way to meet someone?”
“Not ideal,” he said, “but definitely memorable.” Then he added, “How about coffee?” “That’s risky, Mike. Somebody might see us,” she teased. He laughed. “Let them. I’d be lucky to be seen having coffee with the most talked-about woman in town.”
“Six o’clock. The coffee shop on Main.” “Okay,” Anna said, nodding to a man who couldn’t see her. “But on one condition: no microphones, no stage.” “Just a quiet conversation,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “See you then”…
