“I know everything about her,” I promise.
He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “How can you? You’ve known her for what? A week?”
“Okay,” I relent, “I don’t know what her favorite color is, but—”
“Do you know what her pussy feels like?” Linc interrupts.
“Shut up, Linc,” Graham and I say in unison. He snaps another bite of his fruit.
I sigh, trying to figure out how to skirt the issue. I know what he’s going to say and he’s right. I need to be smart. But I also need to figure out a way to make this work.
“I know I need to watch my image.”
He nods and stands. “Yeah, you do. We’ve worked our tails off to get you to this place. You’re on the cusp of achieving something no one in our family has done since our grandfather, and if you can get there, you have a chance at the White House eventually. This is not the time to take risks, brother. Not in this department.”
I turn my back to him. I don’t want him to see the look of frustration on my face. This is not a conversation we’ve had before. Usually it’s him telling me to stop fucking a chick, and I laugh and agree. But this isn’t that. I haven’t even fucked her.
I’m the one that’s getting fucked.
“Look,” Graham says, his voice overly calm, “I get that you kind of like this girl. She’s hot, she seems sweet, she’s got a great kid.”
“Smart kid,” Linc chips in, laughing.
“But can’t it wait a few weeks until this thing is over?”
Graham’s question is cut short by another knock and the opening of the door. Nolan rushes in, his glasses hanging off the end of his long nose. A stack of files in his hand, his suit looking rumpled, he drops into a chair beside my brother.
“Can’t what wait a few weeks?” he asks, looking from one of us to the other.
I shoot Graham a look. “A vacation. Lincoln wants to go to Australia and swim with the sharks.”
He chokes on his apple.
“Good,” Nolan says, flipping open a folder. “I thought you were talking about some girl you were seen with at the game last night.”
My cheeks heat. “What do you know about that?”
“People tell me things,” Nolan says. “This isn’t my first walk in the park . . . or ballpark, either. I’m sure Graham is in here now trying to talk some sense into you, warning you to keep your nose clean. And he’s right, Barrett. There’s way too much riding on this for you to be stupid.”
“I’m not being stupid,” I protest. I glance at Lincoln and he rolls his eyes, his disdain for Nolan palpable. “I’m just friendly with her. That’s all.”
“Keep it that way. She’s divorced, had assault charges leveled at her in New Mexico by a member of the press.” Nolan takes his glasses off and looks at me like he’s won some victory.
I narrow my gaze. “I understand you’re doing this because it’s your job. But I need you to back the fuck off, okay?”
My head spins with this new information, but I can’t let him see that. It’ll show a ding in my armor and I don’t want him trying to exploit it. Still, I’m shocked at his accusation and wonder if it’s true and, if it is, what the story is behind it.
“I’m going to assume,” he mocks, pulling his hand away from his face, “that you’re going to listen to your brother.” He looks at Graham and Lincoln. “Graham. Not that one,” he says, nodding to Linc. “And stop this before it causes us a lot of problems to fix. Years of work have boiled down to this moment, Barrett. Don’t blow it for, well, a blow.”
I laugh, but Nolan blanches at the anger laced none too quietly in the sound. “Here’s your problem,” I say through gritted teeth. “You know nothing about Alison other than the secondhand, or maybe thirdhand, information you’ve acquired through your back channels. And you, of all people, should know just how many times they get the facts right.”
“Are you defending her?” he asks, his brows lifted.
“Yeah, I’m fucking defending her. She’s a good person and it pisses me off to hear you act like she’s some kind of cheap date.”
“Let’s be honest,” Nolan says, standing, “that’s your typical method of operation.”
“I—” I start, but Graham stops me before I get going.