Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
CHAPTER 26
LENNIX
“These numbers look good,” Jim says, tracking the columns of data with one finger. “Your plan’s working, Lennix.”
“Well, instead of trying to get all the people we can’t convince to vote for you,” I say with a broad smile, “we’re building a coalition of all the people who have every reason to vote for you. We need every black and brown vote, the woman vote, the gay vote. If they’re marginalized in any way, they need to know you’ll be their voice, but they have to put you in power before you can speak for them. That’s our message, and we just keep saying it.”
“Nice,” Mena says from the couch, her long legs folded under her. “Are you the speechwriter now, too?”
I shake my head, smiling and poking at the cold pizza boxed on Jim’s desk. The team often teases me about all the hats I wear on the campaign team. Truth is, turns out I’m damn good at politics. I feel like one of those infants people toss in the water and they just start swimming. It all feels intuitive; people and their needs make sense to me, and politics should be about meeting the needs of people.
“Hey,” Portia, the campaign finance director, says from the doorway to Jim’s office. “The sheriff’s out here and needs to speak with you, Jim.”
“Maybe he’s interested in that town hall on the MMIW issue we proposed,” Mena says, eyes alert.
“You may be right.” Jim re-knots the tie he loosened hours ago and drops a tender kiss on top of Mena’s head when he passes on his way out of the office.
Well, all right now!
I wait until the door closes behind him before springing into squealing action.
“Oh, my God!” I throw myself onto the sofa beside her. “What was that all about?”
She presses her lips together, fighting a smile. She’s not fooling me.
“Auntie, out with it. You and Jim? Tell me everything.”
“Lenn, don’t be silly. We’re just friends.”
“Yeah, he and I are ‘friends,’ too, but he’s never kissed my head like that. I haven’t seen him kiss anyone’s head like that.”
An irrepressible light enters Mena’s eyes, and her smile isn’t far behind. “Okay. We’ve gone out a few times.”
“How have you managed to keep it a secret? This campaign is so tightly knit, I gain five pounds when anybody eats ice cream.”
“We’ve been discreet, but I think it could lead to something serious.” She pauses, giving me a speculative look. “Speaking of something serious, have you heard from that guy you met in Amsterdam?”
I swallow the knot thickening in my throat. “Who? Maxim?”
“Right, him.” Mena studies my face. “He seemed like a great guy from what Kimba said.”
I make a mental note to keep my auntie and best friend apart in the future. “You can’t believe a word she says.”
“So he isn’t handsome, thoughtful, sexy, and a PhD?”
“Oh, yeah. He actually is all those things.” And more.
“And?” she persists.
“And…he’s in the wilds of Antarctica and I’m here.” I shrug and stretch out on the couch, laying my head in my godmother’s lap. “He told me from the beginning it would be just that week.”
“But he left you a voice mail that kind of propped the door open, right?” she asks, brushing through my hair with her fingers.
“Wow. Kimba is more thorough than I thought. Yeah. He said when he gets back, he’d like to talk and see where things could go. I’m not getting my hopes up.”
“We need to talk about you and hope, young lady.”
“Hope is hard.” I close my eyes to block out her persistent concern. “Hope hurts when it doesn’t deliver.”
“I know you’re thinking about your mother, but—”
“Don’t.” I sit up and push my hair back. “I don’t want to hear about how I’m still holding on to that. How I can’t open myself up to anyone because I’m afraid to fully feel.”
I just fully felt with Maxim, and look where that got me. Probably nowhere but “deflowered” and with my heart cracked.
“Sounds like I don’t have to tell you,” she says softly, “because you already know. You should see a counselor, honey. I told Rand when it happened years ago.”
“I talked to someone…once.” I twist the hem of my shirt between my fingers and eye the door. As much as I love Mena, I want out of this conversation.
“You were so young, and a situation like that—”
“Auntie, please,” I groan. “Can we drop it?”
She sighs, resignation on her pretty face, and nods. Jim comes back into the office, and his face is ashen, his mouth grim. As soon as he’s close enough, he reaches for Mena’s hand. She stands and presses into him, her anxious eyes fixed on his face. There is obviously more than just a “few dates” between them.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
“The sheriff,” Jim says, shaking his head and closing his eyes briefly before opening them, meeting mine. “He had bad news.”