Page 78 of Where There's Smoke

Roger laughed. “No, I certainly don’t.” He gestured toward the door. “Why don’t we go upstairs and get some coffee?”

“Sounds good to me.”

I wrapped my towel around my waist. Then Roger and I walked out of the pool area, and I kept my head down as we passed the small group of bleary-eyed guests who had the misfortune of being up this early. No one saida word, and as the elevator doors closed, severing us from anyone who might recognize and hassle us, I rolled my shoulders and stretched a crick out of my neck.

Simone was still asleep, so I slipped into the room just long enough to grab some clothes, then went down the hall to Roger’s room. While I changed clothes in the bathroom, Roger made coffee.

Dressed and halfway presentable, I stepped out of the bathroom and sat in one of the chairs. My uncle pushed a cup of steaming coffee toward me, then took one for himself.

He stirred creamer into his. “Ready for this evening?”

“Maybe.” I sipped my coffee. “Tell me, am I the only candidate who gets nervous to the point of physical illness before a debate?”

Roger laughed aloud and shook his head. “Every candidate handles these things differently. I assure you, the ones who say they aren’t nervous are the ones who are entirely too certain of themselves for all the wrong reasons.”

“Well,” I said dryly, “guess I don’t have to worry about that. Speeches, rallies, whatever, I can handle. These debates…”

He nodded. “You’re not the only one, son. I promise.”

“How did you handle them?”

“I kicked everyone except Anthony out,” he said. “And spent hours poring over material until I was sure I had everything memorized.”

I cocked my head. “Everyone but Anthony?”

“Well, of course.” He casually sipped his coffee. “You want to do well in a debate? You listen to your campaign manager. Especially that one.”

“Oh. Right.” I coughed and picked up my own coffee again.Whyelsewould he be alone with Anthony, idiot?

“And while I know this will fall on deaf ears,” Roger said, “let me just say that you have nothing to worry about.” He gave a quiet laugh. “Casey ought to be pouring hot sauce on his shoes right now. You just answer all the questions truthfully and thoughtfully, and let him dine on his own feet.”

I laughed but said nothing.

Roger went on. “I’m telling you, kid. You havenothingto worry about. And I must say, having watched you handle this campaign, you’re doing the family proud these days.”

“If you don’t count my dad, right?”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Your father is proud of you.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Never said he was great at showing these things,” Roger said.

“Story of all the people in my life, right?” I muttered.

He chuckled. “Well, I can tell you I’m certainly pleased. And the voters like you. You’ve presented yourself as a fine candidate.”

“Thanks,” I said quietly.

“How is the campaign treating you?” The corners of his eyes crinkled as he gave a soft, sympathetic laugh. “I did tell you elections were brutal, didn’t I?”

I blew out a breath and shook my head. “God, yes. It’s unreal.”

“Handling it all right, though?” His tone was gentle but didn’t offer much preemptive sympathy in case the answer was anything other thanjust fine, Uncle Roger.

“I’m doing okay.” I grimaced and touched my throat gingerly. “Voice is getting a little worn, though.”

“Oh yes, that’ll happen,” he said with a nod. “Throat lozenges are your friend, my boy. And for that matter, you can’t go wrong with a brandy nightcap.”

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