Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 108242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
“Planned?” Wallace echoes, his eyes wide, his brows bent.
“Oh, yes. Everything is planned,” Abe says pleasantly. “There’s actually no way for you to come out of this alive, lady, but you’ll go when I say you do.”
His words are a loaded gun, pointed to my head, waiting for the trigger to be pulled. I feel the pressure as surely as a barrel at my temple.
“But firrrrrrrst,” he says, eyes shining with anticipation, “let’s have some fun.”
He points the gun at us again. “Get up. It’s time for the show.”
CHAPTER 2
MAXIM
I hate politics.
Politics and oil are two of my least favorite things. My brother is running for president, and my father is an oil baron, if we’re still using words like “baron.”
So fuck my life.
“Did you hear me, Maxim?” Kimba asks, seated across from me in my office. “This is important. Don’t think because it’s The View they’ll throw softballs. These ladies grill candidates.”
I swing my chair around to view DC through my office window, searching out the echoes of Parisienne architecture, ironic because two cities couldn’t be more different. “I’m not a candidate,” I remind her. “And O hasn’t even officially announced yet.”
“You’ll be a surrogate for the Democratic Party’s forerunner.” She leans forward, propping her elbows on my desk. “And you were just voted one of America’s most eligible bachelors. Use this appearance to build some goodwill for your brother. They’ll mention him.”
Would it be immature to stick a finger down my throat and vomit up my lunch? It wasn’t much. Avocado toast or some shit Jin Lei brought in. It would barely stain the carpet.
I’ve been voted one of America’s most eligible bachelors for several years running and have never gone on The View or even acknowledged this…dubious honor. But for Owen, Kimba’s making me do it. Should I decorate myself like a float in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, too? That’s only slightly less pomp and circumstance than this appearance on The View.
“You need to get used to representing your brother on shows like this.” Kimba’s still talking. “You have to remember where he stands on things like climate change.”
Oh, this grabs my attention.
I swing back around to face her. “You mean the fact that I advocate a much more aggressive plan for climate change than Owen does?” I ask, fake-mildly.
“Yeah. It’s just scooting a little to the right on this issue.”
“I don’t scoot.”
“Everyone scoots center when they’re running.”
“I’m also not running, but if I were, I for damn sure wouldn’t scoot. Everyone and their mama knows where I stand on climate change. You think I’ll lie about it now?”
“I would never ask you to lie,” Kimba replies stiffly. “I’m just asking that you articulate your brother’s position.”
“I’ll be happy to do that,” I agree with a nod, “and say I think his position should be stronger.”
“Maxim, come on.”
“People aren’t stupid, and their memories aren’t that short. They know my brother and I don’t share exactly the same views on climate change. It’s fine that there’s some daylight between us on this issue. Ignoring our differences is not how we fix problems, and neither is focusing on them. People are sick of bickering. They’re tired of politicians locking horns and comparing dicks and getting nothing done. They want leaders who’ll set their differences aside long enough to actually help somebody.”
“Ya know.” Kimba frowns a little and tilts her head to stare at me. “That kind of made sense.”
“Of course it did.” I grin and wink. “Just because I don’t like this stuff doesn’t mean I’m not good at it.”
We both laugh, and Kimba returns her attention to the list of “fun things” she wants me to remember.
“Is that all?” I ask after another twenty minutes of reviewing Owen’s position on several issues. “We done?”
“We’re done.” Kimba packs her iPad and notebook into her bag. “Good talk. I’ll email you notes and circle back with more specifics on The View appearance.”
“I’ll try to contain my excitement in the meantime.”
“Look, I know your brother appreciates you being all in like this. Having a surrogate as high-profile and popular as you makes the job a lot easier for Lenn and me.”
When Kimba mentions Lennix, I automatically check my phone as I have for the past two days. Still nothing.
“Have you heard from her? Lennix, I mean.”
“No, but that’s not unusual when she goes on these service trips. Reception is usually bad, and Wi-Fi is spotty. She’ll call when she can.”
“Yeah, of course, you’re right.”
“And Wallace is there with her.”
“Should that make me feel better?” I stand and walk around to lean against the corner of my desk. “That she’s in a jungle with her ex?”
Kimba shifts her bag on her shoulder and levels me with a glance that is half amused, half exasperated. “You’re kidding, right? You know she and Wallace are—”