Page 61 of The Rebel King

“I made Kimba promise this is the last one. I have better things to do with my time than answer inane questions for lame late-night hosts.”

“It’s not a waste of time. The rapport you’re building with America will come in handy later when Owen needs you to speak on his behalf.”

“If you say so. I miss you.”

His abrupt shift from the campaign to personal throws me off for a second. “Uh, yeah. Same.”

“It was cute at first,” Maxim says dryly, “but I don’t thinksameproperly conveys how much you should be missing me right now.”

“How should I properly convey it?” I ask teasingly, dropping my bag on the floor and stretching out on the couch.

“A picture of your naked tits would be a good start.”

“Did we learn nothing from Anthony Weiner? A dick pic is forever, so imagine the half-life on a tit pic.”

“Good point,” he says soberly. “Soooo…video?”

“Doc.” I laugh, kicking my shoes off and wiggling my sore toes. “They’re just breasts. Nothing special.”

“Shh! They’ll hear you.”

“God, don’t make me laugh. Owen’s cook made pot roast tonight, and I ate my weight in beef. And before you ask, no, I didn’t check to see if it was non-foresty.”

“Well, that’s disappointing. Why were you eating at O’s place?”

“We were working on the speech for that fundraiser tomorrowin Baltimore. I watched your segment at the house with him, Millie, and Glenn.”

“Ahh. Good ol’ Glenn. I don’t think he’s a fan of me.”

“No, he totally is,” I say. I’m not sure either, but we can’t have tension between two key figures in my campaign.

“Did you hear what Connor said about my dad?”

“Something about you being the greatest business mind?” I ask, keeping my voice neutral.

“I don’t know why he said it.”

“He believes it, of course. He’s right. You are.”

Maxim just grunts at my praise. “Dad knew it would get back to me, so he’s signaling me something, but I’m not sure what yet.”

“Maybe he’s ready to repair things between the two of you.” I try to keep my voice even, but the thought of seeing Warren Cade on the regular if he and Maxim reconcile may bring that pot roast back up.

“After all these years?” Maxim asks. “Maybe. Sometimes it’s hard to remember what drove us apart.”

Him being an asshole?

“More than anything,” I say, suppressing my internal scream. “I’d love to stay on the phone talking about your father, but alas…I have a life.”

I sit up, grabbing my sling-backs by the straps and heading to the bedroom.

“Very funny.” He does chuckle but then sobers and says seriously, “I can’t wait to see you next week.”

Next week.

I want him home now. I want to kick and scream on the floor, but I can’t. He canceled Germany for me, and in Tomales Bay, he implied that he was willing to follow me all the time. I can’t have that. He has too much to do.

So, with a grin, I say something that will keep him where he needs to be. “Same.”

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