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He stretched his arms and cracked his neck, his smile growing wider. “And now I’ve just caught my second wind. Come down to the pub with me.”
“No.”
“Come on, Keir.” He stands up and nods at the reports in my hand. “Not like you’re actually going to do anything with those today. Drop them off at your desk and let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Maybe you missed the part where I said no?” Jesus, he’s annoying. And he’s even worse when he drinks. “Unlike you, I have work to do and people depending on me to get it done.” I glance down at my watch even though I’ve been looking at the clock on the wall for so long today that the time is practically imprinted on my brain. “Besides, it’s the middle of the afternoon.”
“It’s whiskey o’clock somewhere,” he shrugs, then starts following me as I walk out of the conference room. “You know I’m just going to keep asking until you give in. And you know you’ve always sucked at ignoring me.”
“That isn’t something to be proud of. It just means you’re more obnoxious than most people.”
My insults don’t even slow him down. They never have. James was born to be a politician—he’s never met a stranger and he has skin as thick as a fucking rhino. If someone doesn’t like him, he just assumes they haven’t spent enough time around him.
He’s wrong, of course. I think the opposite is true. James shines the brightest in large crowds with the briefest possible interactions. It’s only after people get to know him that most realize what a fucking wanker he is.
“Still not giving up,” he slips into my office right behind me before I can shut the door in his face. “Come on, Keir. There’s a ton of press waiting for me downstairs. You can leave right before I do and distract them. They’d rather talk to you anyway.”
I toss the stack of reports onto my desk and grimace. “That’s debatable. It’s also not the best incentive. Why would I want to go down there and throw myself to the wolves just so you can sneak out to the pub and get drunk?”
“Because that’s what brothers do for each other?”
“Try again.” I grunt. “But since you brought it up, when was the last time you threw the press off my scent for no good reason?”
He’s literally pouting now. Our next Prime Minister, ladies and gentlemen. “Okay, so maybe we don’t do that sort of thing for each other very often. I really do need your help this time, though.”
There it is. Finally, a kernel of truth in the middle of all the bullshit. He doesn’t want me to keep him company over a few pints. He wants my help.
I pin him with a hard glare. “What did you do?”
“It’s nothing, really.” He makes a dismissive gesture—the same one he always makes when he’s lying. “There’s just a report coming out about some of my travel expenses and maybe a few staff expenditures. It’s stupid, but it’s probably going to cause a splash if I can’t give the press something juicier to cover.”
“Travel expenses and staff expenditures… is that code for strip clubs and hush money?” He just shrugs without confirming or denying anything. Which means I’m right, of course. “Jesus, James, what do you expect me to do about it? What kind of distraction do you have in mind? I’m over here trying my hardest to keep my nameoutof the press.”
His face lights up and I belatedly realize I’ve already bought into his ridiculous plan. “That’s the best part. You don’t have to do anything at all. Just walk out there, take a few extra seconds getting into your car—maybe answer a question or two, flip ‘em the bird, whatever—and off you go to meet me at the pub while I sneak out behind you.”
“This is a dumb plan,” I mutter, already cursing my inability to put my foot down when it comes to my family. We’re walking out of my office together and I’m one hundred percent certain I’m making a mistake. “And don’t blame me if they don’t fall for it.”
James claps me on the shoulder as we step onto the elevator. “It’ll be fine. If the worst happens and they corner me, I’ll just start talking shit—throw out a couple of sound bites, maybe insult that pop singer who got her tits out on stage a few days ago, you know? The usual stuff.”
“Jesus,” I shake my head and try to brace myself for the onslaught that’ll be waiting for us when those elevator doors open again.
Surprisingly, it goes almost exactly how James said it would. The press surround me as I step out of the elevator, leaving him to fend off just a handful of photographers as he slips around the side of the building. I give a few one-word answers to their questions and throw in a couple of steely glares for good measure—basically the same way I’d respond any other day—and then… that’s it.
No extra drama. No embarrassing spectacle. James goes one way and I go the other, and by the time we meet up again a few blocks away, the press and paparazzi are long gone.
“I have to hand it to you,” I say as we settle onto our stools at the end of the bar. “That couldn’t have gone better if you’d planned it.”
He laughs and grabs a handful of pretzels from the small bowl sitting in front of him. “Especially considering Ididplan for some of them to be there.”
I’m not sure whether I should punch him or congratulate him. “You’re a sociopath. Seriously, James. What the fuck do you mean? You called the press yourself and told them to wait for you?”
“I told them to wait,” he shrugs. “I didn’t specify whether it was for me or you. I guess they just assumed it was for you.”
Again, I’m nearly speechless. I should get up and leave right now, but I’m sticking around and asking more questions out of sheer, morbid curiosity.
“Why—and I hate myself for even asking—but why did you call them if you had no intention of actually talking to them? Do you just get some kind of sick thrill out of seeing me squirm in front of the press?”
He munches on his pretzels and gives me an annoyed look. “Believe it or not, dear brother, but it isn’t always all about you. I called the press because I wanted to be seen leaving the board meeting. It’s good for me to look like I’m in charge, being decisive, making power plays, you know? But then someone gave me a heads-up about this report and how they were probably going to ask a bunch of uncomfortable questions, and I needed a diversion.” He nods toward me. “You played your part very well, and I appreciate it.”
