Oh, shit.That wasme.
The two men who sat down with us look like they’d truly appreciate the power of teleportation right…about…now.
“Why do you say that, Jordan?” Grace drawls.
“Because it’s not the truth.” I rarely engage in stating my opinion like this, but I’m Leo’s boy, and he’s taught me well. There’s a difference between playing politics and taking shit from people. “Nothing like a bunch of mediocre white Christian guys with fragile egos telling each other they’re meant to rule the world.”
Yeah, I’m cynical.
Grace eyes me. “You have a better idea to pull this country out of its downward trajectory than returning our focus to God?”
I lean forward and set my glass on the table. “Look, if you’re trying to get me to say I think we should return to the 1950s, you’re barking up the wrong tree. We’re a country of immigrants, living on land stolen from the indigenous people already living here, and which was built upon the genocide and enslavement of people of color. Nothing about that makes white Christian dudes inherently better than anyone else, and I say thatasa white dude who, at one point in his life, used to identify as Christian.”
She swirls the drink in her glass as she studies me. “Interesting opinion.”
“It’s not an ‘opinion’—it’s factualhistory. Some mythical inherent ‘superiority’ didn’t give America to the Europeans. It was a combination of basic virology, imperialism, colonialism, and greed, with a heaping helping of white supremacy. Just because some white people think they’re the best doesn’t automatically mean they are. Usually means they’re the dregs.
“Look, cream doesn’t have to proclaim it’s the best to rise to the top—it justdoes. Anyone, including people and religions, who spend so much time beating their own drums to convince people how good they are usually are the worst. That’s beenmypersonal experience. I also say that as a man raised in a church as a Christian, who’s witnessed first-hand how mean and evil they can be. Don’t‘not all’ me, either.”
If I could see into her brain, I’m sure it’s whizzing like some sort of calculator as she processes all of this and formulates her reply.
“Here I thought you were smart, Jordan. You sound like a man with no aspirations of your own. A man of pure principles in DC is about as rare as an innocent virgin in this town.”
I’d like to slap her and wipe the smirk right off her face, but I’m better than that. Besides, I don’t think even Leo could save my ass if I assaulted a congresswoman. “I have plenty of aspirations. The difference between me and someone looking for a way to screw the system is that I’m in the process of working for my goals.Earningthem. Not assuming I’m entitled to them just because I’m a good-looking WASPy guy. I’m sure you’ve faced your fair share of people thinking the only reason you got elected was that you’re friends with the vice president’s sister, or because your father runs a bank that holds paper on a huge swath of people and farms in your district. Or because you’re what’s perceived as a conventionally ‘pretty’ white woman.”
Damn right I used finger quotes that time.
And, yes, they were deliberately placed for the annoyance factor.
Color rises in her cheeks, but she’s good, I’ll give her credit for that. She doesn’t react immediately, trying to appear cool, unflappable. “Granted, there have been some people who say that about me. And yes, it…irritates me. I worked hard to get where I am and did so on my merits.”
That’s total bullshit, because it’s a combination of Daddy’s money and Elliot’s indirect endorsement that earned her the seat. Except I’m not in the mood to have that argument with her because it means breaking out the charts that prove me right.
IknowI’m right—I helpedcompilethe goddamned charts. Literally. Because we damn sure want to carry Elliot’s home state, even if we don’t need it for the Electoral College.
Meaning I’ve done a lot of studying about the voting makeup of the Cornhusker State, and Elliot’s old district in particular.
Especially since I’d love to help a more liberal challenger primary Grace during the next election cycle, if she even manages to hold on to her seat this time.
Unfortunately, with Grace’s focus firmly on me, the other two men at our table suddenly see their chance for freedom and decide to bolt.
Chickenshits.
“Okay, then,” I say. “That’smy point. Youworkedfor it. Wouldn’t it piss you off if some guy ran against you and made comments like how could your constituents count on you if you decided to start a family, or bullshit like that?” Because that’s exactly the kind of attack I would have my hand-picked candidate use against her.
She’s really pissed off but desperately trying not to show it, because it’ll prove my very point and she knows it. “Yes, that would irritate me.”
“There you go.” This is as good of a time as any for me to mic drop and make my exit. I pick up my wineglass and stand. “And on that, I’ll say good evening, Representative Martin.” I know I don’t have to use that title with her, but it’s not worth pissing her off to gig her with theMs.title.
Of course I can’t escapethateasily. She calls out to me as I walk away. “Jordan.”
I stop and turn.
She’s still sitting there, staring at me with a calculating look that would do Leo or Kevin Markos proud. “Are you busy tomorrow night?”
Her question confuses me. “Busy?”
“For dinner. Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?”
