Page 50 of See You Next Tuesday

“Soldiers for the good fight.” Jeff gave them the same charming smile that had graced dozens of magazine covers, and Anya giggled appreciatively. Jeff was in his forties and shorter than you’d expect (movie stars usually were), with a toned physique, a dark auburn beard, and deep blue eyes that crinkled at the corners when he grinned at Anya. Gabe instantly disliked him.

“It’s wonderful to meet you, I’m such a fan,” Anya said. “Thank you so much for having us in your home.”

“A fan, eh?” Jeff gave her a mischievous look. “Please tell me you’re not one of those Marvel groupies who likes me in tights and a cape.”

Anya flushed. “I, actually— What you did, shooting those commercials in Japan so you could pay to get all those people out of Burma, to escape the junta? I thought that was really amazing.”

“I should have guessed,” Jeff said kindly.

He could have sold that ugly chandelier and saved a few more Burmese people, Gabe thought.

“So what’s our agenda?” Jo asked. “The fundraiser starts at seven-thirty?”

“With guests arriving at seven-fifteen, so we have just under an hour,” Gabe said. “Congresswoman, you and I need to lock your remarks, and then we have some local press here for availabilities. I think they’re in a sitting room.”

“The solarium,” Jeff corrected. “It’s a great room for interviews—good light, nice backdrop.”

“Terrific.” Gabe clenched his jaw.

“And Mr. Rooney, you’re with me,” Anya said. “To film a video for the campaign? If that’s okay?”

“Of course.” Jeff smiled. “And please, call me Jeff.”

“No chance.” Anya grinned, and Jeff laughed—a little too hard, in Gabe’s opinion, but whatever.

Jo only wanted a few changes to her remarks, which wouldn’t take long, so Gabe ducked into the kitchen to scrounge up something to eat. Preethi was there too, already digging into a plate of dumplings pilfered from one of the catering platters.

“These are so good,” she groaned. “There’s like a hoisin sauce? But smoky? I want to eat a thousand.”

“Thank god, I’m starving,” Gabe said as he loaded some dumplings onto a plate.

“You didn’t stop for In-N-Out?”

“Wasn’t worth it to spend another ten minutes with Anya. She’s such a miserable human being.” Gabe popped a dumpling into his mouth and chewed forcefully. Preethi was right, it was really good.

“So…not a good drive?” Preethi asked tentatively.

“That’s an understatement. First she was rude in front of Lu, then she gave me the silent treatment—like I did something wrong? I don’t know why I’m surprised, she always finds a way to be offended by everything I do. That should be her job—professionally offended. She’d be better at it than anyone else in the country. She could write a how-to book for beginners on being a condescending nightmare.”

Gabe stabbed another dumpling with his chopsticks, but when he looked up, he saw Preethi was staring at him strangely.

“What?” he asked, suddenly self-conscious.

“I don’t know, dude. Shit-talking competent women? Not my favorite color on you.”

She said it with a hint of a smile, but it put a pit in his stomach all the same.

“Hey, Preethi?” One of their video staffers popped into the kitchen. “Jo’s asking for you in the solarium.”

“Be right there!” Preethi hurried out of the room, leaving Gabe alone with his dumplings.

Gabe felt gross, like he needed a long run and a scalding shower. He didn’t know why he let his frustration with Anya get the better of him that way.

Because she’s right about Wheeler, and you know it? Because your so-called dream job is proof of what a hack you really are?

He pushed the thoughts down; he couldn’t deal with this now. He had only half an hour to edit Jo’s remarks, and he needed to find a quiet place to work—no small feat, considering the entire house was a glass box teeming with cater waiters. Gabe walked out of the kitchen and turned down one hallway, then another, hoping he’d find an open door to an office or a den or something, but he paused when he heard Jeff Rooney speaking in a harsh tone.

“This makes a mockery of my intelligence,” Jeff was saying.