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But my father gets heavily to his feet and brushes off this idea. “Raincheck on that. I’m supposed to be down at headquarters within the hour.”
“I’ll go.” I stand up and try to look severe. “As your very dedicated campaign manager, I’m going to insist that you rest, at least for today. I’ll go to campaign headquarters and if there’s anything that needs your attention I’ll dial you in for a conference call. Otherwise, you can trust that I will take care of it.”
My dad grins but addresses his brother. “We really lucked out with this girl.”
“Sure did,” says Uncle Josh, but he doesn’t grin back. He stares at me with a crease of concern in his brow.
Retrieving my purse from the floor, I repeat my demands. “I mean it, Dad. You rest right now. Let me take care of campaign business. Like Uncle Josh said, we’re almost at the finish line. We’ll need you to be sharp for the final days of the campaign. No arguments.”
He sinks back down to a sitting position. “Yes, boss.” But he’s still grinning.
“And you’re feeling all right?”
“Much better.”
“I’m heading downtown now. I’ll keep you updated.” Before leaving, I touch my uncle’s arm. “Thank you.”
His worry lines smooth out. “Always, Tessie.”
When I’m in my car, I remember that I have plans with Micah tonight. We were going to catch a late dinner once we’re both finished with work for the day. With a twinge of guilt and another of regret, I realize I’ll need to cancel those plans. Though I’d love nothing better than to be with him and fall asleep in his arms, my plate will be full in the final days of the campaign.
Micah might even be relieved. He has an upcoming fight on the night of the election. He’s been training hard but could probably use the additional time to focus.
As for our Vegas plans, I’m not canceling. I just might need to modify them a little. Las Vegas is just a short plane right away. I can easily make the trip on weekends.
Or maybe I won’t even need to do that. After all, my father could actually lose the election.
I don’t want that. Wait, do I want that?
A dark whisper from the recesses of my mind.Maybe.
The unwelcome thought is shoved somewhere deep and I steer the car toward the neighborhood gates. I’ll text Micah when I get back to the office.
Chapter17
Micah
One of Conner’s best qualities is that he understands when I’m feeling like shit and doesn’t make me talk.
But he looks over from the driver’s seat when I shift my weight.
“I’ve got a freezer full of ice packs in the penthouse,” he says. “Always use them after a game. Will help the ribs.”
“The ribs are fine.” I punch the radio on. He bends the truck to the freeway exit.
He knows my ribs aren’t in stellar shape because he had a ringside seat to the sight of them getting soundly thrashed. Yet it’s nothing a dose of ibuprofen and a night of sleep can’t solve.
The sting of humiliation might take a few days longer.
I keep spinning through radio channels, finding nothing worth listening to. With the next flip, a woman’s ecstatic voice crackles through the din of loud cheering.
“We’re here at the Palace Hotel ballroom where Stuart Ballerini’s planned victory party is about to kick off. The Emerald City mayor’s race was just called for Ballerini twenty minutes ago and Larson Carrington has already conceded. The new mayor elect is expected to take the stage shortly.”
Conner glances over when I abruptly click the radio off. I don’t feel like celebrating Ballerini’s moment of triumph. At least the election is over and Tess will no longer be under the shadow of her father’s relentless demands. We’ve hardly had a chance to connect the last few days. She’s been working all hours of the day and night.
Not that I don’t admire her determination. It’s a quality I used to ridicule her for, wrongly assuming she was forever on a quest to outdo everyone else around her.
But no, I was wrong.
