“It’s convenient that you’re staying with the Cleary brothers.”
Something dark and dangerous in his tone stopped me cold. “Convenient?”
He nodded and wielded his TV-ready smile at a couple passing by. When they were out of earshot, his gray gaze narrowed in on me, and all traces of faux-friendliness vanished with his next words. “Max Cleary doesn’t belong in the White House.”
I could only stare at him because I had no clue what to say to that. This wasn’t politics as usual if he was tellingmethis.
“And you’re going to help make sure he doesn’t get there,” he said, and it sounded like a warning.
I was shaking my head before he’d finished. “I’m not—”
“Anything. Anything you can find that can be used against Max, I want it.”
He was deranged. That was the only explanation. A long time ago, Dad told me Max, who was several years Rick’s senior, had taken Rick under his wing and shown him how to be a successful senator. Now he wanted to politically stab Max in the back? And me to find the knife?
“No,” I said with hearty conviction, and I wished I’d had the nerve to tell him that a long time ago before we both got carried away.
“I hear Janice could be hiring the best and brightest intern for a permanent position at the library.” His thin lips pushed together in a frown which mismatched the smug crinkle at the corners of his eyes. “It would be a shame if you didn’t get it.”
The air in my lungs heaved out as his meaning slammed into me. Was this some kind of veiled threat?
“I’ll keep in touch.” He turned, dismissing me, and strolled across the sidewalk toward the Capitol Building.
Back inside the LOC, I pulled the swinging door closed behind me, blocking him out, blockingeverythingout, while I willed the tears that threatened to spill to stay put. Once the door closed, I could continue living my dream, in peace, without Rick’s obscure intimidation.
Click.
If only it were that simple.
11
Sam
HILL HADN’T TEXTEDsince last night. It felt like I’d been walking on broken glass while I waited for him to summon me like some fucking genie in a bottle. Maybe I would get the day off. Maybe the 1.1 million dollar debt had finally been paid. Rose could have her future back, and Dad and Riley didn’t have to worry about their dick pics winding up on the internet. Maybe Hill had forgotten I existed. If all my maybes were zombies, I would be so screwed.
I stared down at my phone in the kitchen, guzzling more beer, when the front door opened.
