We stare at each other before he shakes his head, muttering, “I knew this would happen. Iknewit.”
“You did not.”
“I absolutely did. You look at her like she’s—” he cuts himself off and gags. “Dude, this is so weird.”
“The gagging is a little dramatic.” I gesture forward but don’t dare move. My back is still smashed flush with the wall. I bet he’s regretting not going into the private office now.
He sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Okay. Okay. I get it. It was bound to happen, but please don’t ever tell me about when you touch her again. Or anything.”
As much as I’m glad to have this off my chest, my stomach drops. There’s more I need to confess. Now I’m the one checking up and down the hallway to make sure no one is listening and I continue in a lowered voice, “Lottie is going to tell your mom about us. We don’t want to hide it. We want a real shot at something.”
“She is?” He groans as his eyes roll back in his head.
“Yes.” I take a fast breath before adding, “I was hoping you’d help.”
He gives me a look like his brain just hit the “panic” button. “I’m not helping you get killed.”
“Please. Your mom isn’t a murderer. I mean, I don’t doubt she’s not above a nice revenge plot, but do you really think she’s capable of murder?”
“Honestly? With her track record? I wouldn’t even bet on you living past lunch.”
That throws off my swallow, and a laugh bubbles out. “Ha, ha. You’re kidding.”
He shoots me a sharp side-eye, and nerves spiral up my arm as I start rambling, “Seriously, bro, it’ll all work out, but Lottie needs a buffer—and you are perfect for that. You know me best. You can vouch for how loyal I’ve been to this family; how spotless my criminal record is. You know what she cares about. But if all that fails, I also know her perfect Pinterest garden is atotal farce she uses to make voters think she’s more domestic. I could totally blackmail her—”
“Stop.” He throws his hands up. “You aren’t going to blackmail her, but you’re right, even if it’s cringe.” He paces to the other side of the hall and stares out a window before he says calmly, “I hate this idea, but if Lottie has to be with someone …”
I don’t breathe.
He shifts his weight and looks across the hall at me and sighs. “… I guess it could be worse than my best friend.”
My eyes pop wider as I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Is he accepting this? I cross the hall in three big steps and pat him on the shoulders. “Just think, if I play my cards right, we could be brothers for real.”
“Don’t give me a visual!” He throws his hands up in warning.
“A visual of what? Our wedding?”
Just then Senator Halloway barrels down the hallway like the building is on fire. “Emergency,” she announces toward Ham. “We have a situation.”
Both of us straighten.
“Bodan,” she says dramatically.
My blood boils. I can’t wait until he’s out of the picture, and I speak up before Ham can. “What about him?”
“His grandfather just died,” she says grimly, “and this is terrible for us.”
Ham and I exchange a look before he takes the bait. “How terrible?”
“It’s all over the media,” she says. “Breaking news. It turns out Bodan’s grandfather is Pulitzer Prize–winning author Hank Bowey.”
My stomach sinks.
I’m not a reader, but I know the name. He’s practically a treasure who wrote a novel about America before the republic, and it’s been added to every required reading list in every schoolon the planet. “And,” Senator Halloway continues speaking as she plows toward her office, “the media is already speculating whether ‘girlfriend, Lottie Halloway,’ will attend the funeral…” Her voice trails off as she doesn't pause to talk and disappears into her office. Silence crashes down in her wake.
Ham slowly turns to me. “This is getting out of hand.”
Dread curls deep in my chest.Lottie can’t publicly break up with Bodan now.It will destroy her mother if she dumps Hank’s grandson on the eve of grandfather's death or really anytime soon. She’ll have to wait for our country to mourn the loss of this great man, and we’ll have to wait to be together.
