Page 88 of Lovetown, USA
Her bottom lip trembles slightly.“Sorry. I just feel like you don’t know who I am.”
“I know exactly who you are, Daphne. But this knowing shit goes both ways.”
“Fair enough.” She sighs loudly, her eyes searching mine. “You remember how we used to end our fights, don’t you?”
I shrug. “Ancient history. What do you need? I’m swamped today.”
“Your girl.”
“What about her?”
“She wrote about the tax break last time, and now she says she’s still digging. That’s not what you promised me, Trey.”
“I don’t remember promising you shit.”
Her eyes narrow. “That emergency order can be rescinded. Don’t test me.”
“Rescind it,” I say. “At this point, I really don’t give a fuck.”
“Yes, you do. Because I saw that your certifications went through. You’re getting close.”
“Did you even read the latest one?” I say. “There wasn’t a damn thing in there that could hurt you.”
“Yeah, what’s this about a potluck? Were you there? Ifsheenjoyed it, it’s definitely something the committee should implement.”
I hide my smirk. “I was there. It was cool. It wasn’t a big thing. It was…intimate.”
Her eyes search mine again, but I give her nothing, much to her frustration.
“The tax thing pissed me off, but I will admit, the last one was a bit more positive. So whatever you’re doing, keep doing it, but intensify it. She won’t be here forever.”
That last part pricks me.
Sometimes I forget she’s leaving.
Daphne stands, and I stand with her, reaching out to open the door.
“Oh, and Daphne? If you ever show up at my office again and disrespect me in front of my staff, I’m on your ass. Won’t be no deal, won’t be no friendship, and I’ll drop every last muhfuckin’ dime of my money into your next opponent’s campaign fund. Don’t play with me.”
Her lips part, but for once, she has no comeback. She just glares, nostrils flaring, and storms off without another word.
The silence she leaves behind is almost deafening. I sit at my desk, rub my temples, and let the adrenaline drain. But the anger doesn’t entirely fade.
Deep down, I feel like I’m in a fucking mess here, and it’s too late to clean it up.
It’s almost six o’clock when I finally pull into my driveway, and all I can think about is the night ahead. A quiet dinner, Lane smiling at me from across the table, and the two of us in my bed. All night long.
So I’m in shock when I open my front door to discover Camron sprawled out on my couch, shoes kicked off, TV blaring basketball highlights.
“Cam?” I blink. “What the hell are you doing in my house?”
He sits up straight, grinning like the cat who ate the canary. In my house. “Hey, Dad. Thought I’d come home for the weekend.”
“Why?”
His face falls.
“I don’t mean…” I trail off, closing the door behind me. “I mean, why didn’t you call first?”
