Page 42 of Hard to Fake

November 12, 12:00PM

Denver Library

Lunch will be served

* * *

With my mom going on the campaign trail next year, she’s in what Jay and I like to call her warm-up phase.

I can hear her voice saying, “It’s never too early to form a good impression.”

I hear it almost as clearly as her saying that bad impressions last longer than good ones.

“I thought you were going to straighten your hair?” Mom adjusts the sleeves on her navy crepe suit. She has a way of fussing while looking perfectly relaxed. Just in case anyone’s taking pictures.

I clasp my hands lightly behind my back. I know the tricks too. “I thought this looked better.”

Her gaze runs down my body. “Is that new?”

“Mhmm.”

The navy Michael Kors polo dress skims my curves and stops just past the knee. It’s not the most revealing thing in my closet, but the moment my eye lingered a beat on the garment, Miles was pointing for the sales associate to wrap it up, along with two other dresses.

I didn’t need him to buy me clothes, but he made me promise in exchange for keeping my secret from Jay. Maybe a small part of me wanted to enjoy it, since it’s probably the last time I’ll be shopping for a while.

Mom’s perfectly threaded brows draw together. “Honey. I know you think my ending our financial arrangement is unfounded, but I promise it will only help you build character.”

I paste on a smile, spared having to respond to her comment when my brother arrives wearing a sweater and chinos.

His presence relieves her, too. “Jayden, thank you for coming. I know how busy you are.”

Jay’s gaze connects with mine and we exchange a sibling look. Mom being mom.

“Good game the other night,” she continues without noticing. “You sit at table four. Brooke, you’re at six. I have prospective donors you should speak with. I don’t need to tell you to be on your best behavior.”

We knew coming here meant Mom would pimp us out. Families of politicians are some of the hardest working unpaid interns.

But I do my duty, sit next to the wife of a finance guy during a lecture about education.

“Did you love being in a sorority? Our Adele is making decisions for college next year,” she says, declining her dessert with an easy smile at the waiter.

“Absolutely. It was a big commitment, but I made lifelong friendships.”

That part was true. It brought me to Ruby, Hannah, and a few other women I keep in touch with because I genuinely enjoy them, not because we or our parents are in the same circles.

My brother meets me at the bar. “God, I figured once we were adults we wouldn’t get roped into the circus.”

“Are you a clown or one of those seals with a ball on its nose?” I ask.

“I think I’m the trapeze artist, trying to remember which way is up while he flips in every direction.” His grin fades. “Everything okay with you and Mom?”

“Of course. Why?”

A shrug. “Just a vibe.”

I don’t want to tell him what’s happening because, as much as the reason for Mom cutting me off is bullshit, I can see my brother swooping in and fixing things.

They each have their own world that revolves around them. The political world exists for my mom. Jay pretends to get it, but he doesn’t really because he lives in his own world too. The basketball world, where he’s the star and he’s worshipped.

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