Page 40 of See You Next Tuesday

Anya [1:31pm]: I deeply know

Judy [1:32pm]: But you’re not hungry? When’s the last time you ate?

Anya [1:32pm]: Zeke and I got breakfast burritos this morning, I’m okay!!

Anya [1:32pm]: Oh Mom, he wants to know if you guys want him to pick you up on his way to the Strat. Dale’s gonna take me straight from work

Judy [1:33pm]: That’d be great!

Walt [1:35pm]: You would not BELIEVE the intel I’m getting

Anya [1:36pm]: Can’t wait to hear about it at 3, Sydney Bristow

Walt [1:36pm]: Who?

Judy [1:36pm]: I baked cupcakes, don’t spoil your appetite!

When Anya’s parents first told her they wanted to spend the summer in Las Vegas volunteering for the Sessego campaign, Anya told them not to—she’d be working long hours, she’d never see them, and Las Vegas in the summer was hotter than the surface of the sun. But now that it was only a week before they were heading back to Chicago, Anya had to admit it had worked out kind of perfectly. Walt and Judy rented a house with a pool, and it was such a treat to go over after work for a swim and a home-cooked meal.

Judy had quickly become one of the head volunteers at the Vegas phone bank, while Walt found what could only be described as a lifelong calling working as a tracker for the research department. In theory, his only job was to go to the opponent’s campaign events and pose as a supporter, filming everything in case anyone said anything that could be used to the Sessego campaign’s advantage. It was a simple task, requiring nothing more than holding up a phone and not standing out too much (as an older white man, Walt fit the demographic to a T). But Walt had taken his assignment more seriously than anyone anticipated, inventing an entire persona for his right-wing alter ego, befriending the opposing campaign’s volunteers, even occasionally worming his way into off-limits areas.

“This is the fault of Tom Clancy,” Judy remarked one night over dinner. She had grilled a big platter of lamb chops for Anya, Zeke, Kira, and Simone. “Walt always wanted to be Jack Reacher.”

“Tom Clancy is Jack Ryan,” Walt corrected. “I wanted to be Jack Ryan.”

“Clearly the superior Jack,” Kira affirmed. “I loved those books when I was in high school. My mom thought I must have had a crush on all those tough military men. She was unfamiliar with the concept of gender envy.”

“I never let Anya read that dreck,” Judy said, then lowered her voice. “You know Jack Ryan’s a Republican.”

“Perish the thought,” Walt laughed.

“So what did Anya read? Thomas Moore?” Kira teased.

“For school!” Anya protested. “No, I was a huge fantasy nerd. Dragons, curses, royal intrigue—”

“But you didn’t like Lord of the Rings,” Simone tutted. “Clearly not a woman of taste.”

“I tried,” Walt said wearily. “She got bored after fifty pages.”

“There was more kissing in the fantasy books I liked,” Anya said, and everyone laughed. Zeke put his hand on her knee affectionately, and Anya turned to smile at him. “What about you, hon? What were your favorite books in high school?”

Zeke turned a little pink. “I was more into getting high with my friends and playing video games.”

“Ohh, so you had friends beyond the imaginary ones in books,” Simone joked. “What was that like?”

They all laughed again, but Anya still felt guilty for putting Zeke on the spot. Luckily, he was laughing too; he didn’t seem bothered at all. That was what she loved most about him—he was so steady and affable. Being around him always made her feel calm.

So she was thrilled to see him waiting with her parents when she got to the lobby of the Strat, the hotel where Simone was throwing the first of two celebrations for Kira’s birthday. The Strat was by far the tallest building on the strip, and Simone had invited basically the whole campaign team for afternoon drinks at the bar on its 108th floor. As Anya approached, she saw that Zeke was carrying three large Tupperware containers filled with cupcakes. “Mom, that’s like two hundred cupcakes! How many people do you think are gonna be here?!”

“How should I know?” Judy shrugged. “Kira’s very popular, and besides, Zeke’s strong, he can handle it.”

“Both true statements.” Anya made eye contact with Zeke, who stifled a smile. He was wearing gym shorts and an old T-shirt with more than one hole; Anya wished he’d put in a little more effort. Not that they needed to be fancy to hang out with a bunch of people from the campaign, and they had to look nice later for Kira’s second birthday celebration (drinks at Chandelier Bar). Still, Anya had put on a cute little sundress, red with ruffled straps and smocking across the bust, and red lipstick to match. She wished they looked more like a couple.

“What’s wrong?” Zeke tilted his head, reading her expression. “Everything okay at work?”

“Yes, totally fine.” Anya felt like an asshole. Of course he’d be sweet to her while she stood there judging him. “Can I help with the cupcakes?”

“Get real, Annie.” Zeke leaned over to kiss her cheek.