“Run!” I hissed, smacking Mac on the bottom to motivate her, as one would a horse or a high school quarterback. Then I sprinted for all I was worth.
We scythed through the crowd, stunning families—me in front, Mac in back, shouting, “Sorry,sosorry!” over her shoulder. Incredibly, some of the families started jogging after us, as if this was a game, and they had only to catch us to win a Disney-themed prize.
But I had our home plate in front of me, the hotel I could see just over the turrets of the castle. I narrowed my eyes and ran faster, glad my own dating life since college had prepared me for making quick escapes in compromising clothing.
“Mac, move faster! I can’t have anyone recognize me walk-of-shaming.”
“Oh, getoffit,” Mac huffed. “It’s not like you’re even remotely famous.”
“It’s the age of social media. That means anyone could take a picture of me, upload it to Twitter, and then everyone back home would see. My work is high-profile.”
“Honestly, the ego on you. It’s because she made you Belle, isn’t it?”
Thankfully, we were drawing near. The wind against my face billowed my loose hair behind me like a victory flag. We were going to make it, just had to sprint around this giant fountain, with its gushing geyser of crystal-blue water.
My phone rang, triggering an instant Pavlovian response. I dug into my purse and pulled it out, checking the caller.Wendy Kornbluth.Oh, no. Wendy was the chief of staff at the company I worked for—correction, the company Ilivedfor—and on the very short list of people I had to drop everything to talk to.
I halted so fast I swayed on my feet. Mac ran into me and bounced off, her teapot costume saving us both a lot of pain.
“Wendy?” I answered.
“What are you doing?”Mac cried, looking and sounding like an extra inThe Walking Dead.“They’re going to get us!”
“Lee?” Wendy sounded concerned. “Are you okay?”
I plugged my other ear and shot Mac a look. “Sorry, it’s just a horror movie playing in the background.” I took a deep breath and used my work voice—calm, collected and cool as ice. I was Lee Stone, director of communications for Lise Motors, the first female-led electric vehicle company in the world, and all-around boss. “What’s up?”
Beside me, Mac watched the encroaching families with terror.
“Game-changing news,” Wendy said. “You know how we’ve been waiting for the governor to fill his policy director spot?”
The governor in question was Grover Mane, the first moderate Republican governor Texas had elected in decades, and quite possibly—if all went according to my very ambitious plan—the first governor in the country to pass a bill embracing electric vehicles for government transportation statewide. We’d been in talks about the possibility for more than a year. It would be revolutionary if it happened—a climate game changer, an undeniable political victory, and a huge leap forward for Lise and our CEO, Dakota Young. Not to mention a giant boost for my career.
The governor had promised he’d get serious about marshaling the votes needed to pass the legislation once he’d filled his policy director position. We’d been waiting with bated breath for a long time as Governor Mane apparently searched for a human unicorn.
“Oh my God,” I breathed, ignoring Mac tugging on my arm. “He got someone?”
“Not just someone—someone fromSilicon Valley,” Wendy said, voice dripping with satisfaction. “You know what that means.”
“They’ll want to go green.” The odds were sky-high someone from Silicon Valley would agree electric vehicles were the future. Even the reddest Republicans in California registered lilac in Texas.
My heart raced even harder. It was happening. My dream.
“His name is Ben Laderman,” Wendy continued. “He was senior legal counsel and policy adviser at Google. Apparently, he helped the governor land a new Google center in Houston and that’s how they got to know each other—”
But the rest of what Wendy said was drowned in the buzzing white noise that filled my ears. “Did you say...Ben...Laderman?”
It couldn’t be. The world wasn’t that small, or that cruel. There was no way.
“Yes, Laderman.” Wendy’s tone made it clear I’d interrupted her and she wasn’t pleased about it. “Hometown Austin guy, actually, went to law school at UT.”
Impossible. There was no way the Ben Laderman from my past, who’d kindly gotten the fuck out of Texas years ago, was not only back in Austin, but wedged between me and the thing I’d worked for my entire professional life.
Wendy stopped talking, trying to interpret my silence. “What, you know him or something? And are those children I hear in the background? I thought you said you were watching a horror movie.”
Sure enough, even through the white noise, I could hear high-pitched voices squealing about princesses and singing teapots. Mac had dropped my arm and was backing away slowly.
“No, I don’t know him,” I lied, the words coming out before I had a chance to think them through. In fact, I couldn’t think straight at all, with the kids and the costume and the dizzying amount of champagne still in my system. And, worst of all, with the conjured spirit of Ben Laderman circling overhead.
