“For the hundredth time, call me Camilla.”
Tim shakes his head. “No, that wouldn’t be right, Senator.” He gingerly sets a cup of coffee onto her desktop.
“Thank you.”
Tim leans over Mom’s head and inhales deeply. He whispers one word: “Lavender.”
Hair-smelling? That confirms it. Tim definitely has a thing for Mom.
“What did you say?” She scribbles away on a pad.
“Nothing, Senator.” He takes a few quick steps backwards. “Xavier Cross is in the waiting room, again. He insists on seeing you.”
Mom sighs. “He has an appointment in a month.”
I’ve heard that sigh, many times. Whoever this guy is, he’s getting on Mom’s last nerve.
Tim grips his hands at his waist. “He wants to see you today.”
A rotary phone on the desk begins to ring. Mom sets her hand on the receiver and looks to Tim. “Please tell him to wait one month.” Tim nods and leaves the room.
Mom picks up her phone. “Senator Lewis speaking.” She swivels her chair so she faces the wall. “Yes, Ambassador. I understand the complaint.”
On the opposite side of the room, the door swings open. A man slides through. He’s tall and fit with short brown hair, piercing blue eyes and skin the color of milky cocoa. He adjusts the lapels of his gray suit.
Still facing the wall, Mom continues her phone call. “I understand the demand, but we cannot guarantee that a particular soul will go to Hell. I’ll certainly pass the request to Senator Myung.”
Damn, she’s not taking shizz from that caller. My brows arch. This is the same woman who now spends an hour to choose a frozen dinner from the freezer. I never imagined she could be so decisive.
The stranger walks around the room, studying the pictures lining the walls, his long arms clasped behind him. He moves with a calculated grace that I find oddly soothing.
Mom kicks at the base of the wall, her features cringing into her ‘exasperated face.’ She takes a deep breath. “Senator Myung holds the Afterlife Management seat, I head Other-Realm Diplomacy. As I’ve told you before, I have no formal say in this matter but I promise to make your request known.” She pauses, listening. “Excellent, goodbye.” She slams the receiver onto the phone. “Hells bells! That’s the fourth time this week.” She twists about in her chair, seeing the stranger in her office for the first time.
Mom’s chocolate eyes narrow into slits. “And you are?”
The man reaches out his hand. “Xavier Cross.”
Mom doesn’t flinch. “You have an appointment in one month, Mister Cross. Tim should have stopped you.”
Xavier seats himself in a chair across from Mom’s desk. “It won’t take five minutes, I promise.” He smiles. His face is handsome with a square jaw and high cheekbones.
Mom stares at him, her lips pursed. “Five minutes.” She glances at her watch. “Go.”
I click my tongue. Nice move, Mom!
Xavier taps his knee with his pointer finger. “You’re new to the Senate, aren’t you?”
“My family’s held the Senate Diplomacy Seat for eight hundred years, but yes, I’ve served in this particular role for six months.”
“I saw your pictures on the walls. Annual Lewis family picnics.”
“Yes, we’re a close group. Four minutes.”
“And you have a ghoul assistant.” The look in his eyes says ‘and that’s the stupidest idea ever.’ My eyes flash with anger. Leave my Mom alone.
Mom drums her fingers on the table, her face the picture of cool. “I drive connections across all the five realms: Heaven, Hell, Antrum, the Dark Lands, and Purgatory. Most of my staff are members of the Lewis family, but I’m extending my team to other realms as well. Three minutes.”
“Do you trust that ghoul?”
A muscle twitches along Mom’s jaw. “Mister Cross, what exactly is this about?”
There’s something in her tone that’s protective of Tim, maybe even loving. My possible ghoul dad. Barf.
“I’ll tell you.” He leans back in his chair. “I am the lead angel Ambassador and you don’t seem to know who I am or why we need to meet. I wonder if you’re more suited to duties outside the Senate. Perhaps your interest lies closer to the ghouls?”
I let out a low whistle. Now he’s asked for it.
Mom’s eyes flare red. “I take great exception to that, Mr. Cross.” She whips open a drawer, pulling out a heavy file. With a thwack, she sets it on her desktop. “I’ve been researching you.” She whips open the manila folder. “Xavier Cross, Lead Ambassador for the angels.” She points to a line on the sheet before her. “For some reason, no one seems to remember seeing your wings. Your race is listed as ‘unknown.’”
He shrugs. “I wonder often myself.”