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I fork a bite of chicken salad into my mouth so Dani won’t feel like her lunch efforts were wasted. “I don’t want to bother him.”
She’s amused enough to snort out a laugh. “Since when does Tess Ballerini hesitate to go after what she wants?”
The chicken salad gets stuck in my throat. “When my pride won’t allow me to appear needy.”
“You’re not needy. You’re just a girl who likes a boy. And you know what? It’s absolutely adorable. I know you, Tess. It’s rare to hear that dreamy tone in your voice.”
I set my fork down again. “It doesn’t make any sense at all, does it?”
“What doesn’t?”
“Me and him. We’ve had plenty of opportunities to get to know each other over the years and clashed at every turn. We couldn’t be more different.”
She plays with her long brown hair and gazes out the window at her newly planted rosebushes while considering the problem. “So what? Nobody’s heart asks for permission before feeling something. In Micah’s case, he’s more complicated than most men. You know that. Like you said, it’s not as if you two just met. But I don’t see why you should wait for him to come to you. If you really like Micah, go for him.”
“There’s rather a significant sticking point. Micah hasn’t given me any indication he’s interested in something more than some fun on the side.”
“Why not ask him?” She hands me a plate of homemade oatmeal raisin cookies. “Give him a chance. Now eat some of these cookies or else I’ll cry.”
Because I’m hungry and because I don’t want her to cry, I eat three cookies.
Dani tries to entice me to hang around West Emerald for the afternoon. She wants to show me the building she and Gage are buying to house their charitable organization. Inspired by our dear friend, the mission of Lita’s Angels is to fund research and provide relief for those who have suffered traumatic brain injuries.
I’d much rather spend this lovely fall afternoon with Dani than return to the tense chaos of campaign headquarters. But I’m the one who scheduled this afternoon’s meeting with the social media team so I can’t flake out. While videoconferencing has its uses, my theory is that weekly in person meetings tend to keep people on their toes.
Dani ties a couple of cookies up in a napkin. “He’ll be at the gym today. I can pretty much guarantee it.”
“You mean Micah?” I have no clue why I asked this question. There’s no doubt who she’s talking about.
She sends over anoh pleaselook. “Yes. Micah. Yourlover.”
I pretend to gag. “Why do you have to use that word?”
“Because it’s accurate. Micah is yourlover.”
“Stop. That word belongs in a soap opera from another generation.”
She hands over the napkin-wrapped cookie tower. “Lover lover lover. Tessie has a lover.”
“Sometimes you’re mean.” I hug her and escape with my cookies.
Campaign headquarters is a noisy den of commotion located on an upper floor of a downtown building that used to be a newspaper office. Plastered to every wall are bold, in-your-face, all caps BALLERINI signs. I’ve grown sick of the sight of my last name.
Conversations nervously pause when I stroll through the aisle while eating Dani’s cookies. My father only appears now and then to shake hands and deliver motivational floor speeches. In his absence, I suppose I’m the boss, although I dislike thinking of myself that way.
I’ve been a source of speculation from the beginning. Young, inexperienced, the candidate’s daughter.
This question came up in the last debate. My father’s answer ended up going viral, reverberating through the endless corridors of social media.
“You’ve asked why my daughter is such a critical part of my team. I’ll tell you the truth, like I tell everyone the truth. If not for my child, I wouldn’t be where I am today. Fatherhood has been my number one motivator to create a better future. She’s the reason why I’m standing here, and why you can count on me to fight for you.”
The cascade of clapping was deafening. The applause might have been a little less enthusiastic if the audience knew the answer had been pre-scripted by our speech writing team.
Brushing cookie crumbs from my finger, I wave at the heads popping up from grey cubicles and proceed to the conference room. For the next two hours I nod along through meetings and presentations while my mind keeps wandering back to Dani’s words.
She’s right. I’ve never been a shrinking violet, too timid to speak my mind.
Why shouldn’t I be the one to break the ice and ask Micah how he feels?
