“Bye Lorie,” I hissed.
“Bye,” she replied, and I could hear her chuckling until the line went dead.
I shook my head as I navigated to my text messages. Little did Lorie know that love or marriage of any kind were literally the furthest things from my eldest brother’s mind.
Anton’s text was a very simple, “Call me,” but given that I’d be spending all day with him, I had absolutely no interest in speaking with him so early in the morning. Both he and my older brother, Vincent, would survive not hearing my voice until we were in one another’s presence within an hour.
I had to get ready anyway.
Instead of calling him, I replied, quite simply, “I’ll see you soon, tell me then.”
The response was almost immediate, “Don’t forget to wear something nice.”
My blood started to boil as I read the text over. In most family situations, a reminder to wear something nice would be just that. Maybe it would be annoying that they felt a reminder was needed, but that was about it. In my family, however, it meant something different. ‘Nice’ didn’t mean ‘presentable’, it meant ‘sultry’. Politicians were typically much easier to deal with when there was a scantily dressed piece of legal tender hanging around.
It wasn’t often that I regretted looking like my mother, but my father and brothers found a way. Short of straight up pimping me out, they used me and my blessed curves to distract the eye while schmoozing with New York City’s most important and elite. It was like bringing a bottle of wine or fresh bread to a party.
But instead, they brought me in a dress with lots of cleavage.
In a brief attempt to maintainsomecontrol and dignity, I wore things that I still felt comfortable in without giving too much away. Pant suits covered me up, even if the pants were a little tighter, and a dress that covered my chest up to my neck but showed my arms and more legs. At least it was as if I wasn’t putting itallon display, while pleasing my father and brothers’ desire for a little eye candy. They never let anyone gettooclose to me, so it wasn’t too bad.
After a quick shower, I combed and brushed down my hair and applied makeup that wouldn’t draw too much attention to my face but would still look good on the cameras. ‘Press coverage’ was my middle name for the day, so as much as I’d prefer to do something that would help me blend into the background, I still had to look photogenic.
My phone rang—again—and with the time to meet up with my brothers closer to arriving, I had no choice but to answer. Multi-tasking was something I was good at, fortunately, so as I pulled on my heels and packed my dress into a bag to carry with me for the ribbon cutting that evening, I answered my phone and put it on speaker.
“Anton,” I hummed. “I’m doing fine if that’s why you’re calling.”
“Good morning to you as well, Avion,” Anton replied. “I hope you’re spry and ready for the day.”
“Aren’t I always?” I replied.
“We’re out front in the limo,” Anton replied.
“Tell her to come immediately,” I heard Vincent say in the background.
“Ah, I hear Vince is excited for a loving, fun-filled day with the family.”
“I won’t repeat him if you heard it,” Anton said. “Please hurry.”
“Rather than that, why don’t you remind our brother that I’m not one of his little secretaries. I told you I’d meet you at nine, and it’s still just a quarter-til. I’m going to finish packing my things and getting ready at my own pace, and then I will come down to the car, on my time. If he has a problem with that, send him up to get me.”
Anton sighed. “Can we please not start this already?”
“Start what?” I asked. “See you in fifteen.”
“Yeah. See you in fifteen.” Just before he hung up the phone, I heard him say to Vincent, “Nothing, she’s comin...”
Whatever. If it was better for Vincent to think I was jumping through hoops for him, then let him think that. I had so little control over my life at that point, that if fifteen minutes were the one thing I could control, I’d control every minute of it and dare some Lieutenant Governor or his sniveling younger Secretary of State to try and take it away from me.
Even though I was ready to go within five minutes, I kicked dust around my apartment for an additional ten minutes and then finally grabbed my to-go mug of coffee, briefcase, dress, and makeup bag, and then made my way out of my apartment. I rapidly responded to texts and emails in the elevator on the way down and was irritated to find that when I reached the ground floor, there were already loads of press posted to take pics of me heading out to the car. I sighed, put away my phone, slapped on a smile, and stepped out.
“Avion!” one of the journalists yelled as soon as I stepped out. “Avion! Is it true your father is stepping aside for your brother instead of re-running?”
I looked over at the journalist, wide-eyed. “What?”
The door to the limo opened and Anton stepped out. His dark brown hair was swirled back over his head, and he looked dapper in a suit-vest and matching slacks, with a striped button-up undershirt and sleek tie. He downplayed our family’s wealth more than my brother, but he still had a tie clip, cufflinks, and an expensive watch that caught the morning sunlight.
“There she is,” he said with a big smile. “I swear, your beauty is going to make me lose my seat.”
