Susa Evans’ father, Benchley Evans, is still a bigwig in the Florida state GOP organization, and he’s attending today’s shindig today, too. Casey-Marie wants to bend his ear a little and has learned Benchley despises Ellis. He also wants to dig up any dirt on my brother-in-law that he can use to kick Ellis out of office.
Ellis should be shitting bricks that the two of them will be talking in person but chances are he’s clueless.
Leo, Jordan, and I head into the private cabin at the front of the plane and lock the door behind us. We won’t be fooling around in here today, either.
Frankly, I’m too damned nervous.
“You don’t think Stella would do anything to deliberately embarrass my parents, do you?” I ask.
They exchange a knowing glance that tells me too much.
“Maybe not deliberately,” Jordan says, “but she’s definitely too far up her ass to be an accurate judge of other people’s feelings and to show them respect and consideration.”
“She puts the ‘zilla’ in Bridezilla,” Leo says as he strips off his Henley.
I’ve just pulled off my shirt and I pause, chilling fear creeping through me. “What did you hear?”
“Just the same shit, different day, pet,” he says, pointing a finger at me and circling it to indicate I need to continue what I’m doing. “Let’s not keep them waiting. Jordan and I will stick to your mom like glue. If you have to step away, Jordan will go with you and I’ll stay with her.”
“And Dad?” I reach for my undershirt and pull it on.
Jordan nods. “And your father. Although I suspect he can easily hold his own against any of those assholes. Your poor mom’s already a nervous wreck.”
Another all-too-familiar wave of self-loathing washes over me. “I never should have put them through this. What the fuck was I thinking?”
“Stella’s the one putting them through this,” Leo says. “Notyou.”
“I meant running for POTUS.”
They exchange another of “those” glances before Leo catches my right hand and squeezes hard. “Stop second-guessing yourself, pet. Focus on what’s right in front of you, not what you think you should’ve done.”
Easy for him to say.
He wasn’t directly responsible for the deaths and injuries of men in his command.
* * *
I pastea smile on my face as I buckle up for final approach, all while swearing to myself that I will behave today.
That I won’t bait my sister.
That I will let this be her day and that I will try to act like a loving big brother and not invoke POTUS privileges if she pisses me off and acts like the spoiled little asshole she normally defaults to.
You know there has to be a “but” in there somewhere, right?
That comes less than two minutes after we touch down at the country club. Mom is shrinking in on herself just from the insane press coverage and the media crowd pelting us with questions as soon as we walk into their view.
It looks like Stellis, as Casey-Marie dubbed them, have invited most of the known journalists in the US.
And in many cases, using the word “journalist” to describe these tabloid hacks and paparazzi photogs isexceedinglygenerous.
When my gaze meets Leo’s and he arches an eyebrow at me I know exactly what he’s asking and I give him a little nod.
Release the Kraken, Master. Please.
He immediately steps over to the head of my detail, shares a brief bent-head convo with him, and the man speaks into his wrist mic. Within another breath several Secret Service agents are forcing back the cordon barely containing the unruly picture-snapping horde by several yards.
That will likely make Stella howl with indignation later, because knowing her she carefully chose exactly where they’d be staged.
