“Yeah.” A couple of them nodded, looking…what was the word? Impressed, maybe? Although that wasn’t quiteit.
“All right.” I had to go see that man.Now.“Thank you, guys. Thank you somuch.”
“Course. Whatever H says, man. He’s the…”Please don’t say God.“…boss.”
Blindsided and more than a little afraid, I took off running in the direction of Tremont Street to get to the bottom of whatever thiswas.
It wasn’t until I arrived, out of breath, in front of Zach Hubler’s house and forced my hands to loosen their tight hold on my ridiculously primitive street signs, that I figured out what the expression on their faces had been: reverence. A zealous, almost religious reverence for a guy they’d never even met. I couldn’t quite reconcile that with the man I’d met two daysbefore.
Zach
The poundingon the door stopped me mid-push up. I waited a few seconds for them to go away, like the UPS woman usually did after dropping her boxes. Nobody else made it up this far into thewoods.
Which wasn’t an accident. Everything about this place was designed to keep people out. The long drive, the woods, the front of the house. I spent a lot of money keeping as low a profile as possible. It was what had kept me out of the public eye. And out oftrouble.
The knocking didn’t let up, so with a curse, I pushed up off the floor and snagged a towel on my way to the door. I swung it open, ready to play stupid, and stopped. It washer. Veronica Cruz. Smelling sweet as a summer day. Everything inside me tightenedup.
“Hey.”
“What are you doing?” She was out of breath, as if she’d runhere.
Don’t tell her a thing. Play dumb. “Workingout.”
“I mean with my campaign. What are you doing with mycampaign?”
“I’m not sure what youm—”
“Hang on.” She shuffled around, producing a sheet of paper with a snap. “‘I believe in giving a voice to people who are under-represented,’” she read. “That refresh your memory? I said that toyou. It’s not a campaign slogan. I just called my campaign manager, who had nothing to do with making these, which I knew anyway. Because I’ve only ever said those words toyou.” Everything about her felt angry. Which hadn’t been the objective. It shouldn’t have surprised me, I guess. Nobody liked meddling, even if it was for a good cause. “Why?” she ended on a whisper. “Why are you helpingme?”
I shook my head for a few beats—deny, deny, deny… Which was what I always did. But if I denied it, then she’d leave. And I wouldn’t get anotherchance.
I had to put it in a way that wouldn’t piss heroff.
“Seemedunfair.”
“Whatdid?”
“You going it alone against that family.” I didn’t add that I’d gone over their financials—hers and theirs—and those three extra zeros in their campaign coffers seemed like an unfair advantage. I doubted she’d seen my donation yet, or she’d have said something… Although no way could she follow the paper trail back to me on thatone.
“That’s sopathetic.” I hated the defeat in hervoice.
“Whatis?”
“You felt sorry for me, soyou—”
“Hell, no. That’s not what itis.”
“Well then,what?”
You smell good and your passion gets me hardwasn’t exactly something I could say, so I went with, “You believe in your mission. That worked forme.”
“It’s stillpitiful.”
“Is it? You mean the part about being alone or the part where you truly believe in what you’redoing?”
“I don’t… I’m notsure.”
“Because, if you mean being alone.” I waved a hand toward the empty house behind me. “It’s kind of mything.”
