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)
“Since you found out that I’m a Cade,” he says. “I don’t have to hide anymore. There’s something you should know about us.”
“And what’s that?” I ask, feeling hunted by the wolf gleam in his eyes. I want to deny what a thrill it sends through me.
“We get whatever the fuck we want,” he says, dropping his eyes down the length of my body. “And I want you, Lennix Moon. I want the girl who chases stars.”
“Well, you can’t have her. You can’t have me.”
“I can’t force you. I wouldn’t want you like that anyway. You want time. I can respect that. I can’t make you give me another chance.”
He pulls in a tired breath and shoves his hands through his hair. “I have to leave now for this expedition, but we’re not done.”
“I say we are.” My voice is shockingly steady, considering how I’m trembling inside.
“We’re not. Do what you need to do. Change your world,” he says softly, his eyes connected to mine so intensely there’s no hope of looking away. “I have to go make my world, but when the time is right, I’ll be back for you.”
PART 3
“Let us put our minds together to see what kind of future we can make…”
—Sitting Bull, Lakota holy man and leader
CHAPTER 34
LENNIX
TEN YEARS LATER
“Never fuck the candidate.”
No matter how many times I’ve said it, there’s always some dewy-eyed girl still smelling like sorority who doesn’t get it. Who just haaaaaaas to know what two hundred or so pounds of future Mr. President feels like between her legs.
“It’s rule number one, Lacy.” I sit on the edge of my desk and consider the young campaign technology director. “And you broke it.”
“I didn’t mean for it to happen.” Fat tears stream from Lacy’s eyes and she rubs at them just enough to look cute, but not smear her makeup.
“Cut the tears, honey,” I say. “This act you’re putting on, it’s a rerun. I’ve seen every season.”
Lacy freezes mid-weep, glancing at me from under a set of press-on lashes.
“I don’t have time for tears or excuses,” I continue. “Day one, I tell everybody, don’t fuck the candidate. It’s bad for business. It eliminates your objectiveness. Most of all, it gives the press, and therefore potential voters, something to focus on besides the issues. And nine times out of ten, it costs everyone: the candidate, the sweet young thing, and most importantly, the people that candidate could have helped had we installed them into the place of power. That is the main reason the rule exists because the people are our bottom line.”
I cross my legs, swinging one bright-green Louboutin Pigalle sling-back in time with the second hand ticking on my wall clock.
“I have to let you go.” I sculpt my voice into the shape and hardness of dismissal.
Lacy’s shocked eyes snap to meet mine.
“Are you kidding me?” She shakes her head, setting her blond curls bobbing. “I could have run tech for fifty campaigns, but I wanted to work with the Kingmaker. I chose you.”
I grimace at the ridiculous nickname the press started using a few years ago when a string of my candidates won high-profile races.
“Actually, I chose you,” I remind her ungently. “Not the other way around. And I appreciate your special talents and your dedication to the job, but you’re compromised. I’m running triage now covering your tracks and trying my damnedest to keep this out of the news cycle.”
“We were discreet.”
“Oh, is that what you call it? Susan’s wife came home to find the two of you in her bed with their kids asleep upstairs. What part of that do you consider discreet exactly?”
“Kristin was supposed to be out of town,” Lacy says defensively. “And it was so late, we knew the kids wouldn’t come downstairs. I just…Susan’s so amazing.”
“They often are. In my experience, power gilds the goose. Makes it look like a peacock, but in the end, it’s still just a bird that honks when it flies.”
“I need this job, Lennix.”
“And I need you off this campaign. Firing you is the first of several steps to keep Kristin at Susan’s side, smiling for the cameras until Election Day. Susan may have a wandering eye, but she’s got damn good ideas for getting women equal pay. That’s all I care about. We need her to win in Denver.”
“But where will I go?” Lacy cries, and this time I believe her tears. She doesn’t bother being careful with the mascara. “What will I do? Can you at least give me a letter of reference?”
“Sure. The first line of my letter will read, ‘Watch this one. She fucks the candidates.’” I pluck a couple Kleenex from the glass holder on the corner of my desk and hand them to her. “I wish this could be different, and I wish you the best.”