Page 61 of Capitol Matters

“Well, don’t just stand there.” Preston pulled Holland aside to clear a path into the house. “You should join us for lunch.”

Wood-paneled walls and marble floors comprised a grand entryway. I scanned what I could see of the interior, filling gaps in my memory. The furnishings were new, but the space remained familiar and unexpectedly comforting.

Despite nostalgia pulling on me, I stepped back. “I ate on the way, actually.”

“Nonsense.” Preston shook his head. “You could stand to put a bit more meat on your bones. Look tougher next to Holly so she can take advantage of that scary dog privilege.”

My jaw clenched. Preston stood half a head taller than me and had at least fifty more pounds of bulk. Despite that, I took his comment more as a statement about my tattoos, shaggy undercut, and street clothes. I polished up well enough for work, but today’s vibe was a more honest representation of punk brat.

“Pres!” Holland snapped. “Don’t be rude. And we really should ask my father first…”

“You really should.” I nodded. “And I can’t stay, anyway. Busy.”

“Busy?” Holland turned toward me. “With what?”

She seemed genuinely curious—a departure because in all the hours we’d spent in her patrol car, not once had we delved into talk about our personal lives. I would have had to dodge those, anyway, or spin a hell of a yarn. My criminal activities notwithstanding, I doubted she would approve of me spending my off-hours bouncingbetween a whorehouse and a bar.

Fortunately, I was spared from responding by Maximus joining us at the door.

“Mister Farrow,” he said slowly. Suspicion hung on his voice. “What brings you by?”

“Following up on our talk from Friday.” I cut my eyes toward where the Bronco was parked, telegraphing a message I hoped the older man received.

“I told him he should stay for lunch,” Preston chimed. “Everybody talks so much about the guy, I feel like I should get to know him, too.”

“Of course,” Maximus replied, missing my point or dismissing it entirely. “Members of the Farrow family have always been welcome here. We can discuss business matters after our meal.”

Slipping my cell out of my pocket, I checked the time. Precious minutes ticked away. Could the old man sense my panic?

I cleared my throat. “I, uh…”

“Come inside, Fitch,” Maximus said. Not an offer; a command. “You wanted my attention. Now, you have it.”

A breath hissed through my teeth as I crossed the threshold. I could have walked myself to the formal dining room but was content to follow the others, studying the lavish details of the home that had been wasted on me as a kid. Ornate crown molding framed tall ceilings and matched the medallions around brass light fixtures. The exterior color scheme of white and cream carried through, crisp and bright.

I thought of Holland’s office at the Capitol. Cool,dark, and comfortable for sensitive eyes. She wore her sunglasses even now, which wouldn’t have been so strange if this hadn’t been her home where concessions should have been made.

Entering the dining room found the lunch spread laid out. More seats than people left empty place settings spanning the length of the ten-foot table. I waited for Maximus, Holland, and Preston to take their places, then continued to linger until Preston patted the seat beside his.

“Right here, champ,” he said.

All three of them stared as I slid into the high-backed wooden chair. Finger sandwiches and fresh fruit filled platters on the table. Too much food for three people, or even four. While the others loaded their plates, I helped myself to a sweaty water pitcher and filled the nearest glass.

I’d barely taken my first sip when Preston leaned toward me. “So, Fitch, Holly tells me you’re half human.” He bit off the corner of his egg salad sandwich and spoke between chews. “How does that work?”

Since I’d reacted similarly to meeting Preston for the first time, I couldn’t be mad. Turnabout was fair play, after all.

I gave the ambassador my most saccharine smile. “Well, when a boy witch and a girl human love each other very much…”

Preston barked a laugh. “All right, I deserved that. I just wonder because when Holly and I have kids, I want to know what to expect.”

Across the table, Holland dipped a strawberry inyogurt, intentionally disengaged.

Maximus spoke up in her stead. “Mister Farrow is arguably the most talented young witch in this city. He is remarkably skilled.”

Preston snorted into his iced tea. “Yeah, at killing.”

Heat rushed my face, but my smile stayed firmly in place. For an ambassador, Preston could stand to work on his diplomacy, but I knew he was baiting me, trying to see if Holland’s “scary dog” would bite. If I did, he wouldn’t like it.

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