Page 11 of The Perfect Steal

“Officer Thomas,” I said, putting on a big smile. “How's it going today?”

“Nate, I thought I told you last time to slow down.” He raised his eyebrow, his lips pinched with disappointment.

“You could’ve just let me continue on,” I said, hoping I could get out of a ticket today. There were a lot of things I’d tried to do to get my father’s attention, but a ticket wasn’t one of those, especially not days before the election.

“Nate, your dad is the mayor, but that doesn't mean you get out of everything. I've already let you go on a warning twice in the last two months, and now I'm going to have to write you up.” He disappeared with my license.

I blew out a breath and leaned back against the headrest. I was in big trouble. Not only was I going to be late to the event, but I was getting a ticket. And with all the cars passing, several eyewitnesses would be able to tell my father.

My dad wouldn't be mad about the ticket; he would be mad about how it portrayed our family when I kept getting pulled over. Then again, he might actually pay attention for once.

Got pulled over. Be there soon.I sent the text to my mom, knowing it was better to let her know so she could keep my dad calm until I arrived.

If only my younger sister, Sarah, were old enough to get into trouble like this, maybe she’d be able to take some of the focus off me. To be honest, though, she was a daddy’s girl, so that wouldn’t do me any good.

Officer Thomas came walking back and handed me the ticket. “I knocked it down a few miles per hour, but you still need to pay the city.”

I nodded, choosing not to fight with the officer. He’d been lenient before, and he was just doing his job.

“Will do, Officer.” I rolled up my window, making sure not to speed too quickly until I was out of sight. Frustration poured through me, and I realized that the only way to get away from my father and my family’s reputation was to get out of this town.

Could I change things around and get my grades up enough to at least be accepted into a college, any college, outside this small town? Yeah, I still managed to get high B’s and A-’s without putting in much effort. But actually turning in assignments could clue people in to my past, something I didn’t want dredged up by anyone here in Pecan Flatts. Luckily, my actions had somehow caused everyone to avoid searching for my days as a child wonder on the internet.

I guess being labeled the mayor’s punk kid had its perks. Well, I hadn’t really given them much of a choice on that one.

What would it be like if my dad weren’t the Golden Boy of Pecan Flatts? I mean, there were a lot of advantages to his position, but did they outweigh all the drawbacks? Probably not.

I pulled up to a stoplight, remembering the simple house we’d lived in until I was twelve. That’s when my father had sold his gaming app to another company and we’d moved into the house in Pecan Flatts. At first, everything had been the same, except for the fact that I wanted a more normal school experience than being tutored at home.

Of all my friends, I envied Ben's family life the most. Both of his parents were so involved in Ben's life now. It had taken his father some time to come around in supporting his baseball career, but now he was always there, fully engaged in all of our games.

How could I compete with the phone permanently attached to my father’s hand?

Should I hide the ticket? I tucked it into the console, knowing I’d have to show my dad as soon as possible, preferably before someone else told him first. He hated to be blindsided.

I made it to the convention center, pulling up to the valet and handing him the keys. I worked on my tie as I walked into the center. Several people gave me tight smiles as I passed. A clock in the lobby said eight fifteen. At least I was only a few minutes late.

It wasn’t hard to locate my family in the large room laid out with tables and chairs, the centerpieces dwarfing the tables with flowers.

I tugged on my tie, tightening it around my neck as I walked up to my mother.

She widened her eyes and said between clenched teeth, “Pulled over. Again?”

“I was late and driving faster than I should have. I know. It was dumb, but I was trying to get here in time.” Pleading to her sense of responsibility was a stretch, but I hoped she’d back me when I told my father.

My mom adjusted my tie and then pushed me toward the group where my father was talking.

“Where’s Sarah?” I asked through the side of my mouth.

“With some of the younger girls over in the corner.”

Since she was several years younger than me, she wasn’t held to the same high standard my parents expected me to live by. Okay, so I didn’t make it there very often, but guilt still hit me when I didn’t. To the outside world, I worked to give off an I-don’t-care attitude, but when my dad played the disappointed card, it was difficult not to feel something.

“It’s good to know the Everton family isn’t all perfect,” someone said from behind me. I turned to see Tom Voight with a wide grin, his wife holding on to his arm as they approached.

My father’s face tightened. “I’m not sure I get what you mean, Tom,” he said, polite but with an edge to it.

“I was just told a green Hummer was pulled over by one of Pecan Flatt’s amazing police officers. That couldn’t have been your son’s vehicle, could it?”

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