Ben blinked. “What?”
“I’ll run the marathon in her place.”
He frowned at me. “Don’t get me wrong, that’s really nice, and it sounds like she’s desperate enough to say yes, even to you, but... Stoner, you were winded that day running down the stairs at the Governor’s Mansion. You had to lie on the ground for minutes after we ran out of the wine festival. I’m not sure you know what you’re getting yourself into. Sarah raised a lot of money with pledged donations, but she only gets it if she crosses the finish line. She needs someone to fill in who can...do that.”
“I said I’ll do it,” I said firmly. “Send me the details.”
Ben raised his eyebrows. “Okay.” He held up his phone as he typed. “Doing it now. Sarah will be grateful, despite...being very angry at us. And working hard to kill our bill.”
I nodded curtly. “Well, I kind of owe her, so...”
We both looked down at our phones again. The silence stretched until Ben’s voice broke through—a single, urgent plea.
“Lee.”
I glanced up at him, but left my fingers fake-typing on my phone, so he’d think I was in the middle of an important work email. Though, with my luck, I’d probably manage to accidentally pull up the Japanese sex-toy website I sometimes liked to lurk in—trying to figure out which parts of what things went in which holes, obviously. My fingers were probably in the middle of an inadvertent thousand-dollar sex-toy shopping spree.
Ben leaned over the conference table, his forearms flexed, face earnest. “Can we please talk about what happened at the Governor’s Ball?”
I shrugged. “No need.” And glanced down at my phone. Dear God, Iwason the Japanese sex-toy website. I dropped my phone like it was on fire and it clattered to the table.
“I said all I needed to say,” I added quickly, glancing furtively at the glowing screen. A mysterious, three-pronged, peach-colored object vibrated suggestively in the center of it. In plain sight. For all Bens to see. I scrambled for the phone and practically threw it in my lap, crossing my legs to keep the thing secure.
“Well,Ididn’t say all I needed to say.” Ben’s blue eyes gripped me. They burned with singular intent, demanding my body sit up and pay attention, that it burst into a thousand goose bumps.
My body obeyed.
He took a deep breath. “I never meant—”
I was saved when the door flew open and Dakota strode in on tall heels, Wendy keeping pace behind her. She walked to the head of the conference table and clutched the back of a chair, but didn’t sit.
Seeing Dakota again was as weird as I’d expected. I stared at the chair in front of her, unable to bring myself to make eye contact. Had Dakota broken it off with the governor, or were they still going? Would she ever tell her husband, George, or was she planning to take the secret to her grave? If she didn’t dump the governor, would she dump me instead?
The pain was like someone had taken a knife to my heart. If there was one thing in my life that was pure and uncomplicated, it was my love for Dakota Young. I’d thought she was infallible. I’d bet so much on it.
I had the weirdest impulse in that moment to run from the conference room to my office and slam the door, like I’d done the night my father came home after I’d found his emails, and I’d disappeared to my room.
Dakota cleared her throat.
I looked up. She flinched when we met eyes, but gathered herself, brushing her hair coolly from her shoulder. “Lee. Ben. Thank you for meeting me at such late notice. I promise I won’t keep you long.” Her smile looked strained, and though she now trained her eyes on Ben, they kept flicking to me. “I—well, I’m positive I’m not the person you most want to see right now.”
Wendy’s eyebrows twitched in confusion. That was all—just a twitch—but it was enough of a tell. She didn’t know what Dakota was referencing, which meant she didn’tknow.
“But,” Dakota continued, “I wanted to update you on a new approach to the Green Machine.”
A new approach? My spine straightened, and—tension be damned—I shot a look at Ben. He looked just as confused as I was.
Dakota beckoned Wendy forward. She stepped to Dakota’s side, eyes calculating. “Seeing as how thatoil tyrantSamuel Slittery circumvented civic engagement by going straight to the senators and offering campaign donations, we all know the Green Machine’s toast.”
My heart sank. Why was Wendy calling the Green Machine’s time of death? We still had hope. Before everything had blown up at the Governor’s Ball, Ben and I had hobnobbed with tons of people. There’d been sincere interest in the bill. And I’d spent the week reflecting on Ben’s words from that night—not any of the feelings stuff, or the betrayal stuff, but before that, when we were watching Slittery suck up to Senator McBuck.Whether this bill lives or dies is on our shoulders now. I just wish I could figure out some way to get around Slittery.
Without my friends, Alexis or Ben around, without any booze or pot, without the distraction of the campaign or checking up on Dakota, I’d had time to think. I’d racked my brain. And come up with an idea.
Apparently, Ben and I were on the same wavelength.
“Wait a second,” he said, placing his phone delicately on the conference table. “I really think we still have a chance. Slittery, McBuck, all those old men in the legislature—they represent the past. We need to talk about the futuretothe future. Climate change is a top issue for voters under thirty-five.”
“Voters under thirty-five are mythical creatures.” Wendy’s voice was cutting. “You might as well be talking about lobbying the unicorn vote. Sorry, Ben, but we all know people under thirty-five don’t turn out, especially not in state elections. State lawmakers aren’t afraid of them.”
