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“Raf. Pal. Buddy. You know I’d never ask you anything so unseemly.”
Luna sighs, swivels in his chair. “He’s a free agent. Social issues would push him your way usually, but you know how he feels about your mom’s economic platform. You probably know his voting record better than I do, kid. He doesn’t fall on one side of the aisle. He might go for something radically different on taxes.”
“And as for something you know that I don’t?”
He smirks. “I know Richards is promising Independents a centrist platform with big shake-ups on non-social issues. And I know part of that platform might not line up with Connor’s position on healthcare. Somewhere to start, perhaps. Hypothetically, if I were going to engage with your scheming.”
“And you don’t think there’s any point in chasing down leads on Republican candidates who aren’t Richards?”
“Shit,” Luna says, the set of his mouth turning grim. “Chancesof your mother facing off against a candidate who’s not the fucking anointed messiah of right-wing populism and heir to the Richards family legacy? Highly fucking unlikely.”
Alex smiles. “You complete me, Raf.”
Luna rolls his eyes again. “Let’s circle back to you,” he says. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you changing the subject. For the record, I won the office pool on how long it’d take you to cause an international incident.”
“Wow,I thought I couldtrustyou.” Alex gasps, mock-betrayed.
“What’s the deal there?”
“There’s nodeal,” Alex says. “Henry is… a person I know. And we did something stupid. I had to fix it. It’s fine.”
“Okay, okay,” Luna says, holding up both hands. “He’s a looker, huh?”
Alex pulls a face. “Yeah, I mean, if you’re into, like, fairy-tale princes.”
“Is anyone not?”
“I’mnot,” Alex says.
Luna arches an eyebrow. “Right.”
“What?”
“Just thinking about last summer,” he says. “I have this really vivid memory of you basically making a Prince Henry voodoo doll on your desk.”
“I did not.”
“Or was it a dartboard with a photo of his face on it?”
Alex swings his foot back over the armrest so he can plant both feet on the floor and fold his arms indignantly. “I had a magazine with his face on it at my desk, once, because I was in it and he happened to be on the cover.”
“You stared at it for an hour.”
“Lies,” Alex says. “Slander.”
“It was like you were trying to set him on fire with your mind.”
“What is your point?”
“I think it’s interesting,” he says. “How fast the times they are a-changin’.”
“Come on,” Alex says. “It’s… politics.”
“Uh-huh.”
Alex shakes his head, doglike, as if it’s going to disperse the topic from the room. “Besides, I came here to talk about endorsements, not my embarrassing public relations nightmares.”
“Ah,” Luna says slyly, “but I thought you were here to pay a family friend a visit?”
