“And I hate to make things worse, but I guess we can’t get caught beingtoosloppy,” she said, going into her bag and pulling out a newspaper. “You’re the talk of the town today.”
She tossed the newspaper onto my desk and it folded open to the front cover story.
JUDGE HANDLING RAINES FAMILY CASE HAS SUDDENLY DROPPED ALL CHARGES: Merrick Raines up to his old tricks, or just a judicial change of heart? Is the Raines Family the most notorious organized crime syndicate of all time?
I pinchedthe bridge of my nose. “My old man struggles to stay out of the papers,” I said. “I hate that.”
“You’ve always preferred a softer touch,” Punk said.
“Except when you don’t,” Kelly said, raising an eyebrow at me.
“Very funny,” I replied, “but accurate.”
“You play the long game, that’s for sure,” she responded, “starting an entire architecture company just to hide your underground business is a feintfor the ages.”
Ignoring Kelly, I looked at Punk, trying to keep my temper at bay. “Do you know of a place where I can speak to Curtis man-to-man? Professionally of course.”
“Oh, sure. The ribbon-cutting for the new Apex Founders Tech building is tonight, and he’ll be there. I designed that building, so you’re already on the invite list,” Punk explained.
I nodded. “Good. Thanks for following up for me, but I’ll take it from here.”
“What are you going to do?” Kelly asked.
I smiled. “What else? I’m going to go pay Governor Narzand a visit and see if we can’t work something out. I’ve got half a million dollars at stake and I amnotabout to lose it.”
2
AVION
In retrospect, I probably should have gone with more than a bowl of cereal and a couple of pieces of toast for the day. Staring into the bowl, I’d only gotten halfway in, and the rest was already soggy. A large cup of coffee was my own saving grace, but it had half a gallon too little whisky to get me through what I had to deal with today. Glancing down at my tablet, and the long list of engagements my father was dragging me into, it was going to be a miracle if I made it through the day. I knew that he was the Governor and all, but why did he have to do so much in one day? Ordinarily, it was difficult to get him out of his house for a single speaking engagement, now he’s got his day charted out like he was about to leave town or something.
Every two or three minutes, I received another email, ranging from people confirming appearance times for the day, down to hotel staff sending me check-in confirmations. It was infuriating. When I agreed to take on the role as my father’s campaign manager, it was with the understanding that I wasnothis personal assistant, but rather running his campaigns and promotion. Both he and my brothers assured me, fifteen times over, that this was the case, so I didn’t need to be worried about being shoved into some corner and treated like a receptionist.
That turned out to be a mega lie.
My phone rang, and I picked it up, not even looking at the screen to see who was calling and slammed it against my ear. “Hello?” I snapped.
“Yikes,” a familiar, friendly voice responded. “Is now not a good time?”
“Oh,” I let out a sigh. “Lorie, hi. Sorry, I’ve been fielding calls and emails from my dad’s people all morning and I’m annoyed.”
Lorie was my best friend and had been since we met in college. Thanks to the hectic schedule of my dad’s campaign, I hadn’t gotten to see her much, which was likely the reason I was so on edge as of late. I was a textbook over worker and struggled to keep myself relaxed. She, on the other hand, was my friend who dragged me to parties in college even when I didn’t want to go. Thanks to her, I actually had some semblance of a normal life, at least until I graduated with my master’s degree and started working for my dad.
Now I was back to square one.
“I told you it wasn’t a good idea to take the job,” Lorie said.
I sighed, swirling around my rapidly dissolving cereal in the milk in front of me. “I know, but it’s the whole family thing. My brothers are in it, my mom was in it when she was still alive. She asked me to keep an eye on my dad, and how better to do it than to work as his campaign manager, or if you’re the Milton Resort and Spa downtown, his receptionist.”
Lorie chuckled. “Did things with CJ teach you nothing?”
I rolled my eyes, hating even hearing his name. “I’m not sure of your point.”
“You’re not sure of my point?” Lorie said. “Your dad tells you to date some tesla driving, Sperrys wearing, ‘do-you-know-who-my-dad-is,’ snot-nosedbratand you did it, why? Because you think that’s what your mom meant when she told you to listen to your old man.”
I frowned. I tried my hardest to remember my mom’s face, but it was hazy in my mind. It was only a little before my sixth birthday when she died. I knew that she had my same long, thin, red-orange hair and olive-green eyes—typical French traits. I also obtained her freckles which poured across my face and down my arms, but she’d given her height to my brothers, who otherwise shared my dad’s blond hair and blue eyes.
Despite the fact that having children was dangerous for her, she continued to do it because my dad wanted a big family. After me, she was damaged beyond repair and the toll it took on her body slowly killed her. Her dying wishes were for me to always listen to my father, keep an eye on him because he didn’t know how to take care of himself, and live the best life I could. I promised her that I would do all of these things, which I accomplished by working for my dad, getting straight A’s in school, from grade school all the way through my master’s degree, and yes, by listening to my father even when it wasn’t in my best interest.
