Page 22 of The Charlie Method

He shakes his head at my sarcasm. “That’s merely lip service. And in this political climate, we need to show more than lip service, so with that said…”

My stomach sinks.

“I’ve arranged forCapitol Magazineto write a profile about you.”

“No,” I say instantly.

“William. You don’t say no to an interview withCapitol.”

The waitress chooses that moment to return with my burger and fries. Joke’s on her. My appetite has gone the way of the dinosaurs.

As she sets the plate down, Dad flashes his winning smile and thanks her, but the second she’s gone, his scowl returns. Mine never left.

“I don’t want a profile written about me,” I say in a low voice.

“Well, it’s already been confirmed, so…” He shrugs. “You can either gripe about it or you can behave as a congressman’s son should behave and speak to the journalist.”

I clench my teeth.

“I’ve also arranged for a camera crew to follow your team around,” Dad says, casually stirring his coffee.

“I’m sorry, what? Acameracrew? You said it’s a written profile.”

He eyes me over the rim of his mug, his politician’s face set in that infuriatingly calm expression he always wears.

“It’s both. You’ll have a few sit-downs with theCapitoljournalist—Alessia will arrange everything for you, so don’t worry. It’s all taken care of. But the magazine is partnering with Capitol TV to produce a short segment. They’ll shoot footage of your next few games and conduct interviews with some of your teammates.”

“Absolutely not.”

“William.” His tone is firm. Impatient. “This is about ensuring there’s transparency, showing that your team is clean and aboveboard.”

“We are clean,” I snap, feeling the frustration bubble up. “And regardless of that, it’s not your job to dictate the level of transparency from the Briar Men’s Hockey Program. We don’t need a camera crew invading our space to prove anything.”

“Appearances matter, son. This interview will show the public that there’s nothing to hide.”

“You mean it’ll show thatyouhave nothing to hide,” I mutter, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

“Don’t be petulant. This is for the best.”

“The best for who, Dad? Definitely not for my team. We’re not some sideshow for your political image.”

He sighs, a familiar sign of his patience wearing thin. “I recognize this isn’t ideal for you or your teammates. But this isn’t merely about hockey. It’s about safeguarding our family’s reputation. One bad story and it’s a feeding frenzy. This way, we’re ahead of any potential issues.”

“You always care more about how things look than how they actually are.”

“That’s not fair. I care about you, and I care about our family’s name. Sometimes, that means making tough decisions.”

“And sometimes, it means making decisions that screw over the people you claim you care about.”

He doesn’t flinch, just stares at me with those piercing eyes. “You’re young. One day, you’ll understand the importance of managing public perception.”

I lean back in the booth, crossing my arms. “Coach is never going to go for this.”

“It’s already been taken care of.”

“You spoke to Coach Jensen?” I’m grinding my teeth so hard I fear I’ll crack the enamel.

“Yes. He’s agreed to let the crew into the locker room for your next couple of games and to give a few short interviews about college hockey. He thinks it will bring more recognition to the program.”

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