Page 30 of The Americana Playbook

“It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve been wrong about me.” I smile. “I’m here, and like I said, I’m willing to do what you want if you’re serious about giving me Captain’s Cottage.”

“Yes. We were serious. We don’t exactly have time to waste playing games, Parker. If you haven’t noticed, we’re running a country here.”

I look at the three of them, confused about who is actually doing the work. “I do have conditions.”

Mom laughs sarcastically. “You never like to make things easy.”

“I’ll handle my inheritance. That’s not an issue because, as I told you, I’ve been seeing someone for quite a while, and it’s only a matter of time before we get married. But I want Captain’s Cottage. And the person I’m seeing isn’t involved with your world. In fact, he kind of detests it.”

Madeline scoffs. “I always said she’d marry a communist.”

I smirk at my sister. “No one is more of a patriot than my guy, trust me. But you’ll have me. I know that’s what you want. I know you just want to show off Dad as the family man. I’ll be a part of your campaign,” I say, turning to Dad. “I’ll even give a speech at the convention when”—I pause—"I meanif, you’re given the official reelection go-ahead from your party. You don’t have it yet. That must be embarrassing. But I guess that’s what happens when you’ve spent four years here and your constituents describe you as unapproachable.”

Mom lifts her head to the ceiling, and Madeline huffs.

“I spent the last week reading up. Did you know the majority of your voting base thinks you’re unrelatable? Privileged? Out of touch?” I add, leaning forward and whispering, “Asnob?”

“Enough, Parker.”

I flip my eyes to my mother. “My relationship isn’t your business. I’m enough. You wantmehere because it looks better for you than having everyone askIs his other daughter still in Europe? She couldn’t come back to support her father for just one day?That’s what they’re going to ask this time. Last time, they bought your story. I read I was in the Netherlands, training at an equestrian center.” I laugh at the stark contrast to the time I’ve spent around horses. “But by now, after pulling that stunt at the gate, after telling your secretary how excited I am to support Dad, everyone is going to know I’m in town. They’re going to expect to see me.”

I sit back in my chair. I might not be the one at the head of the desk, but for the first time ever in my family, I feel like I’m on thethrone.

“You give me Captain’s Cottage and I won’t just be a part of your campaign,” I say. “I’llstarin it.”

I’m a woman of my word. I’ll pretend like I care enough about the Montgomery name to want the Montgomery home. But really, I’ll burn the political legacy and that house to the ground and smile for the cameras while I do it.

I keep staringat my phone, as if I’m going to will it to have service thirty thousand feet up in the air.

“Since when are you a nervous flier?”

I swipe my screen to close the messages from last night I’ve been re-reading. “I’m not,” I tell Coach, and that’s the truth, but I can get why he reads me that way. I’m tight. I’m tense. I’m chomping at the bit to get to Parker because things have already gone off course with the Montgomerys insisting Parker stay at the White House instead of the hotel for her visit. She’s obviously as uncomfortable as I am with the situation given the amount of texts we exchanged in the middle of the night when we thought the other was sleeping.

I unlock my phone, peeking at one when Coach looks away.

Parker

Do you remember when we used to take the couch cushions and slide down the stairs? There’s a sick set here. We could really go wild.

It’s late. Why aren’t you in bed?

(Also, I do remember. We crashed into Madeline one time and she broke her collarbone).

Parker

I don’t really sleep well here.

I don’t get why they’re keeping you.

Parker

Story of my life, Fitz.

“Your leg is shaking like that time we were down by three against Roxbury in the red zone and I asked you torunit,” he reminds me.

I lock my phone again and stop bouncing my knee. The memory of my second starting game in high school makes me laugh. I did almost shit myself. “Never stopped running the ball after that.”

I turn my attention to the window.

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