Sway (Landry Family #1) (27 page)

My phone buzzes and I only look at it in case it’s her. But it’s not. Of course it’s not. It’s Linc.

As much as I don’t want to hear his stupidity, I really don’t want to be alone. So I answer it.

“Hey,” I say, flinching as the bourbon festers in my stomach.

“What’s up?”

“Not much.” I sit the glass on the table. “What about you?”

“Not much. Just seeing what’s happening over there.”

I look around the room and consider just how much of nothing is happening. No conversations, no plans for tomorrow, no lunch dates on the schedule that I actually want to attend. Not one damn thing.

“Graham called earlier and filled me in on the debacle with the papers and all that,” he says, like he’s just tossing that out there as a conversation piece. It’s the reason he fucking called and as much as that annoys me, it’s also a relief.

“Yeah, it’s been a fucked up day.”

“How’d you handle it?”

“What do you mean, ‘How did I handle it?’” I snort. “I had a complete fucking come-apart in the middle of my office.” I cringe as the memory washes over me, the fury I felt the moment I saw those headlines driving a nail into my skull.

“I can imagine,” Lincoln says, no humor in his voice. “I have to say, I was a little disappointed no punches were thrown.”

I scoff at my little brother, the one that nearly charged the mound last year when a pitcher hit him three times in one game.

“I know you don’t like Nolan. Hell, I’m not sure how much I even like the son of a bitch right now. But I can’t throw punches. I have a real job.”

“Baseball is a real job, asshole. I make more than you do a year. Choke on that.”

I laugh, even though I don’t want to, because Lincoln is right. He makes more than I do doing a job that’s a hell of a lot more fun and less stressful.

“How’d Alison take it?” he asks.

“How do you think she took it?”

“That good, huh?”

Rubbing my temples, I consider refilling my glass with liquor. It would absolutely dull the pain, but it would also mute my ability to think, to process, to plan, and that’s nearly all I have on my side right now. I need to figure a way out of this.

“She’s effectively not talking to me right now,” I say, the words tasting as bitter as I expect them to. “A part of me feels like I need to act, to do something to make this better. It’s what I do. There’s a problem, I fix it. But you know, maybe this life I lead isn’t what’s best for her. I mean, fuck, Linc. My own people put out that article.”

He chuckles under his breath. “The life you lead isn’t the problem, brother. It’s your quote-unquote ‘own people’ that are the issue. I’m not even going to start into a big lecture here on how much I hate Nolan and all the reasons I think he’s poison to you.”

“You’re just mad he told dad you’re the one that wrecked my BMW back in the day,” I grin.

“Yeah because that shows his lack of loyalty! It was none of his fucking business. You and I had it worked out. It would’ve been fixed and that would’ve been the end of it. The cocksucker overhears us talking and snitches like the asshole he is.”

Sighing, I stand and walk over to the island where I left the bottle of bourbon. I pour a little into my glass and swirl it around while I consider Lincoln’s words.

“I’m
days
from this election. If I weren’t, I would’ve fired him today.”

“You should’ve fired him today.”

I groan. “We’ve been working on this campaign for years, Linc. There are so many people’s jobs riding on the line.” Sighing, I slump against the counter. “I was reading him the riot act today, and Dad shoved me out of the room and told me to calm down.”

Taking another swig of the liquor, I feel the burn as it trickles down my throat. “If I fire him now, my chances of losing this election triple. Maybe quadruple. So much time and money have been spent that I can’t just blow it now because I’m pissed off. Those people have families to feed, bills to pay. That’s not fair to anyone.”

“It’s fair to you. You gotta stand up for yourself, man.”

“I did,” I sigh. “I’ve done everything I can.”

“Welp,” Lincoln says, “if that’s the case, have you done everything you can to tell Ali that?”

“Ali? You’re on a nickname basis with my girl now?”

“Hey, she likes me. Probably better than you right now!”

“Go to hell.” A pang of jealousy that their relationship is so easy taps my heart.

The line grows quiet, both of us trying to get some kind of game plan together. The problem is that neither of us plan as well as Graham, and this isn’t something I can plan with my logical brother. I’m closest to Graham, but when you need someone to plan shenanigans, you have to go to Linc.

“You know, I’ve never understood why you like politics,” Lincoln says.

“I’m not sure why I do right now either.”

“Is it what you want to do? Do you want this life, worrying about what everyone says about you, picking you apart, going after your girl?”

Sitting back at the table again, I think about how many times I’ve asked myself that very question over the last few days.

“It’s the only thing I ever considered doing,” I point out.

“Because Dad pushed you.”

“Not just that,” I say. “I’ve always felt like this is what I’m supposed to do. And I’ve enjoyed it for the most part. You can do a lot of good things with the power it gives you. It’s constantly moving, changing. You can’t stand still or you get lost in the shuffle. And, before the last couple of months, I’ve had all the women and parties and opportunities I could ever want.”

“That’s all fine and dandy, but everything you’ve said has been past tense.”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “I know.”

“So . . . why not drop out? Change courses. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to try to save the world or give up your life and subject yourself to this craziness.”

“I’ve considered it.” My fingertips strum the table, lost in thought. “You know, I wonder what my life would’ve been like if Dad hadn’t bought me the mayoral election.”

“Barrett, don’t even fucking go there. You won that thing on your own.”

“Did I, Linc?” I ask. “I remember going to the debates, answering the questions at the interviews, and not really having a fucking clue what they were talking about. I said what I was supposed to say, smiled, and boom—I’m the mayor. Did you ever think about that?”

He groans into the phone. “You’re just being stupid now.”

I laugh, feeling like a weight is off my shoulders. “No, maybe I’m just being honest.”

“If that’s the case, maybe you shouldn’t be in politics to start with.”

“Maybe not. But I am and I can’t back out now.”

“You also can’t risk losing her either, Barrett. I’ve never seen you happier than you have been lately. You’re so normal when you’re with her, almost like one of the guys I play ball with.”

“Gee, thanks.”

He laughs. “I’m serious. You’re usually a stick in the mud, off burying your cock in some chick or huddled in a corner with Graham. You’re actually kind of fun now.”

Taking a swig of my drink, I feel it burn as it goes down. “I don’t feel very fun right now.”

“You’re at the plate with a full count. You have to step to the plate ready to swing, Barrett.”

“Baseball analogies? Really?”

“Listen to me. Be ready to swing. Don’t let the third strike pass the plate. Because when that happens, you go to the dugout. Alone. And that’s a cold and lonely place.”

Barrett

MY TIE IS OFF CENTER.
I face the mirror and see the green and white striped fabric twisted like a twelve-year-old put it on.

It makes wonder if Huxley knows how to tie a tie. An image pops in my mind of us standing in front of a mirror and me showing him how to do it. I can’t help but grin at the idea and the realization that the concept makes me happy.

Heaving a breath, I force myself to concentrate on getting myself presentable for another day at the office. It’s early, a little past six, and I haven’t slept. I’d hoped the bourbon would assist in that effort, but it didn’t.

My phone was in my hand as much as it wasn’t all night. I wanted to call her, to plead my case, to tell her how I’d do anything to fix the pain she felt yesterday. Then I got pissed off that this happened, from my staff, no less, and the fury coursed through me until I was exhausted.

Even though it killed me, I didn’t call her. She said she needed space and I need to give her that. It’s not something I’ve ever done before, played by a woman’s rules.

I grab my briefcase off my desk and see a text from Troy that he’s outside waiting on me. Before I get through the doorway, my phone rings in my hand. When I see it’s her, I drop my briefcase to the floor.

“Hey,” I say, my heart thumping in my chest.

“Hey,” she whispers. Her voice is heavy, sleepy like mine, and I wonder if she’s slept at all.

“How are you?”

“Okay.”

I wait for her to talk, to navigate this conversation because I don’t want to steer it the wrong way from the get-go. The silence kills me and I want to ramble a million different things, go into a word vomit, a speech of epic proportions on how I just want to fix this fuck-up. But I hold myself back. For the first time, maybe in my entire life, I keep quiet.

“I hope I’m not calling you too early,” she says finally. The roughness in her voice is a clear sign that she’s been crying, and that’s like a punch to the gut.

“I haven’t been to sleep yet,” I admit.

“Me either.”

“So I guess I could’ve called you at two a.m. when my finger was hovering over the call button?”

Her giggle through the phone is mixed with a sigh and it makes me smile and frown at the same time.

“I hate this,” I say, wishing I could reach out and hold her.

“Me too.”

The line goes quiet. Her breathing gets heavy and I know she’s trying to decide how to approach whatever is on her mind.

“I took Hux for ice cream last night. I looked over my shoulder the entire time, Barrett.”

“Did anything happen?” I ask, holding my breath.

“No, it didn’t. We were fine.”

“It will be fine,” I assure her. “I won’t let it be anything but fine.”

“This could end so badly for me and Hux.”

“But it could be amazing too. If you would just trust me and just—”

“You’re right.”

A lump appears in my throat and I have to squeeze the words out around it. “I am? I mean, I know I am. But you think so?”

“When you left last night and things were so . . . broken, something felt broken inside of me. I feel like all the colors of the rainbow are there when we’re together. Does that make sense?”

“Absolutely.”

“When I agreed to get involved with you, I did it knowing all the ways it could go wrong. I did it knowing you’d never intentionally hurt me, and at the end of the day, that’s what Hayden did. He hurt me on purpose. He didn’t give a single fuck about how his actions were going to affect me.”

“I would never do—”

“Barrett,” she interrupts. “Let me finish.”

“Sorry.”

She laughs. “I know you’d never do that. And I know there are things you aren’t going to be able to control. But if I want to be with you, I have to realize that and not hold it against you.”

“Damn it, Ali—”

“Ali?” she giggles. “You’ve never called me that before.”

“If Linc is calling you Ali, so am I.”

She laughs full-on now and it’s music to my ears.

“So does this mean you forgive me?” I ask, hopeful.

“It means I don’t have anything to forgive you for. Do I like what happened? No. But as long as I know what’s real between us, I can’t care what everyone else thinks. I can’t let my fear hold me back. My insecurities are my problems to work through, not yours.”

“I’ll be right by your side holding your hand,” I promise.

She doesn’t respond, but she doesn’t have to.

“Hey,” I say, picking up my briefcase and heading to the car. “Does Hux know how to tie a tie?”

“No. What a weird question. Why are you asking?”

I laugh, shutting the door behind me and jogging toward the Rover. “No reason. Can I see you tonight?”

“You better.”

Alison