Page 63 of Not the Plan

“Yes.”

“So, if it was around sevena.m.for you, it would have been foura.m.for me. I couldn’t have been on the phone with you, it would have been too early in the morning.”

“Whatever,” her mother said. “Don’t try to weasel out of it; you promised.”

Isadora wasn’t letting go. But as this was far from the first time she’d confronted her mother with logic proving that something did not happen, it was a surprise that she didn’t know what Isadora planned to say next.

“So, we weren’t on the phone,” Isadora said. “I was with you.”

“Of course,” her mother said.

Isadora’s throat went tight, fighting against the building rage. But long-honed skill kept her voice polite and respectful. “I was with you in the store?” she asked.

“Ofcourseyou were! Now are you going to keep your promise and actually help your uncle, or did I raise a terrible, self-centered human being?”

“Howcould I have promised anything standing in a grocery store with you? I haven’t been home in over a year!”

The sound of liquid pouring into something was the only proof Isadora had that the line hadn’t gone dead. She remained silent, waiting for her mother to come to the obvious conclusion.

“I guess you weren’t with me,” she said.

“Nope. We never had that conversation.”

“Oh. Yeah. Guess not.”

Met with more silence, Isadora stifled the urge to defend herself further. Her mother would make herself out to be the victim.

“So,” her mother began, her voice light, pleasant. “How are things with you? Did I tell you about my promotion?”

Isadora didn’t answer. And her mother filled the space, talkingabout herself. Making the occasional sound to show she hadn’t hung up, Isadora double-clicked her mouse and scrolled through the emails she’d received during the meeting. Her temples burned, and she reconsidered her lunch with RJ. Digesting well would be a pipe dream once the conversation was finished.

“Well,” her mother said. “I have to run. It’s been so good catching up. You should call more, Isadora. We never girl-talk.”

“Girl-talk”? Open myself up to you? Share things just so you can use them to attack me later?Isadora rolled her eyes and forced herself to take a silent deep breath. She made a noncommittal grunt.

“Okay, sweetie, talk soon!” her mother said.

“Guess I’m not such a terrible person, after all?” Isadora said.

“What are you talking about?”

“You started this conversation by calling me a terrible person.”

“I did no such thing, Isadora. You’re always blowing things out of proportion.”

Her mother hung up. Isadora placed the phone on its base, momentarily numb. Then feeling came rushing back. Her hands started shaking and prickly waves charged her skin. She swallowed against a dry throat, noticing that her breathing was shallow. She tried to get it under control. It was just as bad as the last time she’d been on a plane and there’d been a lot of turbulence. Her heart felt like it was going to shoot out of her chest. She forced herself to take a deep breath. Then another.You’re safe. You’re in Sacramento, and she can’t do anything to you.She laughed internally at that thought. Her mother was far away, but look what she’d done to her. Isadora was on the verge of a panic attack and was in precisely the wrong place to succumb to it. On shaky legs, she got up to close her office door. She locked it, resting her head on the cool wood.Breathe, just breathe.You’re not a terrible person. You are a good and kind person, excellent at what you do. And it is important work, no matter what she says. You’re going to keep working hard, and Daniel is going to become pro tem and then U.S. representative, and then you’re going to D.C. to become a congressional aide.Her hands were still shaking, her heart thumping, but not as hard or as fast.It’s all a lie. You are not a terrible person. You are not.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Karim

Such bullshit.Karim swirled his cocktail, the best part of his evening, at the edge of the circular booth where Julian had set up camp for dinner at a restaurant called Gordito’s. At the end of a long, stressful week, here he was again, a cast member in his boss’s entourage. It had been an eternity, first at the bar, now at a table, though they had yet to order. Julian, Peter, and Peter’s aide hit on every woman in sight. Karim recognized a few from Ike’s and caught on that Gordito’s was yet another spot for the youngest and prettiest lobbyists to make friends. All he wanted to do was drag his ass home, take a shower, and stretch out on the couch. Catch up on some ESPN, check in with Gabriel for their next jogging session and, in all likelihood, reach out to Isadora.

The memory from earlier that day, being so close to Isadora, touching her hair, tasting her skin right before her appointment showed up…He took another sip of his cocktail to hide his grin.

He tried to make polite conversation. He needed to keep Julian satisfied, to play the part, not arouse suspicion. He’d begun making contacts, getting to know committee staff in both the senate and the assembly. Julian was still dangling the carrot of Christina’s position in front of him, but Karim was already sure that a long-term relationship wouldn’t work out. He worried that the time they’d already spent together was tainting his own reputation.

“So serious, always so serious,” Julian said, drawing Karim’sattention. “You’ve been here for months and haven’t taken advantage of that pretty face of yours!” He laughed, and his sycophant joined in. “Seen women practically throwing themselves at him,” he said to Peter. “And nothing…it’s like he’s not even interested.” Julian studied Karim over the edge of his glass as he took a sip. Karim heard the implication loud and clear. He took a sip as well.

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