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“I know. That’s why it’s perfect. Plus, you have the look the committee wants.”
“What committee?”
“The campaign committee.”
“Chad, I’m sorry, but I have no clue what the hell you’re talking about.”
He sighs as if he’s the one being put out by this conversation. “You know. The look! Edgy but not aloof. Cool but not too cool. Good-looking but not unattainable. Gen Z-ish but not fully Gen Z, you know?”
He waves over me. His bright smile is the only reason I know those were supposed to be compliments.
“Chad. Dude. I think?—”
“As soon as Rena suggested you this morning, we loved the idea.”
“Rena suggested me?”
“Of course. You’re a good-looking guy, my friend. You should give yourself more credit. Versatile too. You ever think about stripping? I have a friend who could get you set up. Remember the guy I was telling you about?”
“The ophthalmologist?”
“No! But that would be amazing. Can you imagine those appointments? I’m talking about Nate.”
“The one who went to Yorkshire.”
“No, that was Marcos, but he could help too, maybe. I’d have to check. Nate is an amazing instructor, though, so try him first. Taught me everything I know.”
“About…?”
“Stripping.”
“Hold on. You’re a stripper?”
“I don’t like labels, Val. Some dibble, some dabble. Anyway, you don’t have to pretend to kiss him or anything. Just maybe put your arm around him?”
“Huh? Kiss who?”
I’m so lost.
“Jarvis. Obviously.”
He throws his arm around the large cardboard figure, and now I’m even more confused about why the ideal place for this activity would be in front of a radiator.
“You can leave your shirt on.”
What?
“Okay, look, man. I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I think we need to?—”
Saved by the crashing door… until it leads to real Jarvis and several members of his entourage.
Awesome, because that’s what this scenario was missing. A pompous jackass who hates me.
“Mr. McKinnley!” Chad cries. Then bows.
Jarvis twists a quick smile before landing his cold gaze on me.
“For the record, I’m not a fan of this,” he directs at me.
