Barrett
THE GLOW FROM THE LAMP on my bureau illuminates the room. I remove my jacket, tie, and dress shirt and toss them haphazardly onto the back of a chair. It feels good to be home, to be “off,” to breathe. I haven’t relaxed all night, except for the few minutes I was with Alison.
I should be rehashing the night, going over conversations, trying to get a feel as to who I can count in my corner. But I don’t. My mind drifts to her every time, and if I’m honest, I like it there.
Flopping back on the California king mattress, my body sinks into the down comforter. I let my lids close and Alison’s face pops up immediately in my mind. Her shy smile, the way her long lashes flutter when she’s embarrassed, how the corners of her lips tug when she tries to pretend like I don’t affect her as much as I know I do—the images blend together to form an amazing slideshow.
My phone rings on the table and I swipe at it with my hand until I find it. I glance at the clock and wonder who is calling me so late.
"Hello?" I ask. I clear my throat, my voice sounding gravelly from being up for the past twenty hours. I can feel every hour in the back of my neck, each frustration in the tightness of my muscles.
"Hey, brother. How are ya?"
"Hey, Linc. What’s up?”
I prop my head up on a pillow and get comfortable.
"Fucked up my shoulder, actually. I threw a long one from center and something snapped. I don't think it's a big deal, but I gotta see the team doctor in the morning.”
"Damn. I hope it’s nothing," I say. "At least the season is over, right?"
He blows out a breath. "Yeah. Silver linings and shit. So, enough about me, how's the campaign? Sorry I couldn't make it tonight."
"Don’t worry about it. It went well. I'll know more tomorrow when Nolan gets me the official report."
Lincoln laughs, his voice crackling through the receiver. He's never been a fan of Nolan. He thinks he's sneaky and uptight. He's probably right on the uptight part, but Nolan has worked for our family for years. He's the one with the blueprint to eventually get me into the White House.
"Yeah, you know how I feel about that. You don't need Nolan, man. Just turn shit over to Graham and you'll be fine."
"Graham doesn't have experience with this like Nolan.”
"But you can trust G. And trust is the most important thing.”
“Since when does my little baseball player brother know anything about business?” I laugh.
“I have investments,” he reminds me. “But you don’t have to know business to know about trust. If you have one person that has your back, you’re a lucky son of a bitch.”
“That’s true.”
Linc grimaces. He groans through the phone and I know he’s working his shoulder, trying to convince himself that it isn’t as bad as he’s been told.
“You probably need to rest that,” I point out.
“I am,” he barks.
“No, you aren’t. You’re working it around, trying to do the mind over matter bullshit that isn’t going to do anything but tear it up worse.”
“It’s fine.”
Rolling my eyes, I move the phone to my other hand. “Whatever you say.”
“Welp, not to cut this short or anything, but I have a call coming in I need to take."
I laugh at the hurriedness in his voice. "Piece of ass hitting you up?"
He clicks his tongue and I know I'm right. “Good to know I’m so high on your priority list,” I joke.
“I'll be in town tomorrow afternoon. See you then."
"Be safe."
Setting the phone on the nightstand, I glance at my clothes on the back of the chair. I need to pick them up, to grab a shower, to process the night. Hell, I really need something to eat.
Instead of sitting down with my briefcase or heading to the kitchen or shower, I sit on the edge of my bed and toy with the idea of calling Alison. My fingers itch to dial the number Graham located for me a couple of hours ago. Naturally, he doesn’t know why I asked for it, and he was too busy to look into exactly who it was, otherwise he never would’ve done it.
Glancing at the clock again, my spirits sink. It’s too late. She said she has a kid and I’d probably wake him up.
I fall against the mattress and think back to her big blue eyes. The way they sparkled when she laughed, how it felt when she wrapped her fingers around my elbow and let me guide her. She didn't lead me, didn't try to press her own agenda.
An undeniable smile breaks across my cheeks.
I’ve forgotten what it's like to have someone around that's not jaded by everything. Everyone I know, everyone I deal with, knows what to say and when and how to say it. They toe the line, don’t rock the boat, follow suit—pick your well-behaved cliché. They know what's expected of them and who not to piss off.
Alison seems to have some experience in this kind of life, yet she doesn’t seem like it affects how she behaves.
Focus, Nolan said.
Grinning, I realize I’m following orders. I’m focusing, all right. Just not on what he wants me to.