“So suspicious. Maybe I just want to buy you a drink,” Gary said, and holy cats, the man’s smile wasflirtatious.He wasn’t Cain’s type - he preferred men who were taller and broader, but he still felt heat flood his face, even as he took a step back.Danger, danger.Was Gary the type to flirt with every man? Somehow Cain didn’t think so.
“I’m only drinking water. Thanks, but no thanks.”
“Ah. I wondered if it might be vodka.”
Cain looked down at his glass, startled. “Oh?”
Gary shrugged. “Occupational hazard,” he said apologetically. “I’ve spent the last two years undercover chasing Russian criminals all over the country, and even to Moscow. I see vodka everywhere,” he said in a mock-whisper.
“Russian criminals? Jesus.” Cain took a literal step back from the man.
“A group named SILA, founded right here in Boston,” Gary agreed. At Cain’s blank look, he explained. “It’s Russian forpower.”
“Oh-kay. So you write about Russian gangsters and now you’re chatting with me?” Cain forced himself to laugh. “I can’t tell if I’m supposed to be impressed or horrified.”
“I’d prefer you went with impressed,” Gary joked, though his hand hadn’t moved from Cain’s arm.
Cain forced himself to laugh it off, just like any straight guy would in that situation -wouldn’t they? -and take another step away.“I’m sure that’s true, Mr. North. Excuse me. I need to get back.” He nodded to where his father was holding court.
Gary’s eyes swung toward Senator Shaw, and then turned back to Cain, his gaze coy. “Your father seems to be having a great night. The rumors are swirling about a possible White House run.”
“I told you,” Cain repeated. “No—”
“Comment,” Gary recited, along with him. “Yes, I know. And I promise, I won’t ask about that. I’m confident that if andwhen, he makes a decision, we’ll all be well aware.” He flashed a hard smile. “No, I’m looking to write about things your fatherwon’tbe mentioning in a press conference. A piece on therealEmmett Shaw. The one the public never sees.”
Wow. There were so many things that could come under that heading. And Cain would not be talking about any of them. “I can’t-”
“Your father gave me permission to ask you for an interview.”
Cain’s eyes swung toward Gary’s, startled.
“Just a couple of hours ago,” Gary continued with a firm nod. “You can check with him.”
“He wants me to do an interview with you?” Cain sipped his water again, praying that any visible terror was blanketed by a heavy dose of skepticism.
What was worse than making small talk? A fuckinginterviewwith a man who saw too much.
“Hey, I’m a talented reporter.” The man’s smile widened and he winked.
“You’re a liberal mouthpiece,” Cain corrected, and Gary’s smile dimmed.
“We tend to draw in a lot of the younger voters. Just like having someone young, handsome, andrelatable,like yourself, helps your father increase his visibility with that demographic.”
Shit. That was probably true. Still.
“I can’t imagine what I’d have to say that would interest anyone,” Cain said. He shrugged, as though amused.Drop it. Drop it, Gary.
“Oh, you let me worry about that,” Gary said. “I think you’re plenty interesting.”
“I assure you, I’m not. Just an average guy who likes to keep to himself, low-key and --”
“Lonely,” Gary interrupted.
Cain blinked. Not one person in a thousand would look at him, at Senator Shaw’s son, with his money, his pedigree, and his picture-perfect family, and see that he was lonely.
But Gary North somehow had.
And it was absolutely true, Cain realized. How long had it been since he’d had physical contact with anyone beyond a simple handshake or a pat on the shoulder? How long since he’d had a conversation with someone who had nothing to do with his family? How long since anyone had seen therealCain?
