Page 186 of Catfish

"Oh, don't worry, Mother," I retort. "I'll make sure you get all the attention.” I cock my focus to my brother and sister. “Feel free to bring your pills and minor girlfriends, it’ll be a press field day.”

Turning on my heels, I stop so that I’m shoulder to shoulder with my father. “If you ever do this to me again, I’ll make your career the biggest load of shit that Congress has ever seen. Try me, Pops.”

I land a hard slap to his chest and take off to find Em. We’re going home where I can breathe normally again until she comes back to save me.

Reagan: Hey, Yank. I'm starting to think you're a girl with all these sappy ass questions.

Reagan: My perfect morning is not waking up to you already asking me questions. Let me have some coffee first before you start rattling off crap.

Reagan: Have a good rest of your night :) Text me tomorrow!

? Last Worthless Evening — Don Henley ?

"He's ready to see us," Emmy says the moment I walk off the elevator with my planner in hand and papers shoved in my binder with the last bits of details I need to confirm with Wade for the governor's ball. "And he's in a pissed-off mood."

That last bit makes my brows descend.

He was in Chicago with her for three days, doing the debate that I couldn't go to because I have events to host, but it looked as though it went great. His answers were strong and optimistic, one of the most persuasive speakers on the panel.

“Everything okay?” I ask as I step in line with her.

“His parents ambushed him at the after-party,” she replies. “Then he got stuck with a group of feminists that wanted to ask him seventy questions on abortion rights, birth control, the whole nine. Then there was Mrs. Holt…”

My head snaps to her. “Mrs. Holt?”

“Married to one of the congressmen who is about to croak at any minute. She’s in her early twenties, gold digger, tits for days, tries to fuck with Wade at any event she sees him at. Which, thankfully, hasn’t been many.”

A twinge of jealousy pricks up my spine, and I shove that fucker back down because I am not going to mess with that emotion.

“Were they ever an item or—”

Emmy scoffs through her nose. “Hell no.”

I'm beyond satisfied with that answer as Emmy knocks lightly on his door, and Wade bellows for us to come in.

Excitement rushes through me at the sight of him. We haven’t talked since the day we destroyed poor Emmy’s desk and he finished by licking me off his fingers.

Wade sits behind his wide desk, the sun beams in from behind, giving him a glow around his body. He’s dressed impeccably as always—navy Ralph Lauren suit, matching tie and hair perfectly styled while matching the stubble along his jawline that I like so damn much.

“Take a seat, ladies,” he greets, gesturing for the two chairs in front of him but doesn’t look up from his laptop as he loudly hits the keys.

“Did you eat lunch?” Emmy asks him, placing her hot pink notebook on the top of his desk.

“No.”

“You need to.” I notice the tic in his jaw as he continues finishing off whatever he’s doing before closing his laptop.

“Afternoon, Miss Shelton,” he emits, whipping his blue eyes at me. “How is everything going with the governor’s ball?”

I have to admit that I'm taken aback a little from the straight-laced look on his face. The monotone structure of his voice, and I honestly don't know why I should be expecting much at all. It's just that he went from night to day within days of us seeing each other, and I feel like I got a little bit of whiplash.

“Everything is going very well,” I reply. “I just wanted to run some last-minute things by you to make sure everything was how you wanted it.”

He nods. “Sounds good, I’m all ears.” Pushing his laptop back slightly, he waits for me to rattle off what I need to go over with him. Thing is, I want to ask him how everything went at the debate. That I want to be in a room alone with him to just talk like...like what exactly?

I inhale deeply through my nose. Things are getting weird and muddled in my head. I'm not the confident woman that I normally am. I want to fidget in my seat because Wade's blue eyes are locked in on me like he's gazing down a scope, and I'm the target.

"First is the music," I shove from my mouth finally. "Normally, you have a live band, but in the revisions I sent to you, I wanted to use a DJ. I just wanted to make sure you were on board with that."

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