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“Dad. Kasey doesn’t care about this. That’s enough meeting talk.”

Not for Harlan. He had more. “He’s being vetted. Reputation is everything. I’m sure you understand.”

Not even a little. Harlan talked in sound bites without actually saying anything. Maybe that’s how the political world operated. I tried to jump the conversation over this part. “I was here for a business meeting.”

Harlan didn’t miss a beat. “That’s why you came into town? To attend Jackson’s discussion?”

Wait... what? Now it was a discussion and not a consultation? “I have no idea how to answer that question because I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jackson finally put the knife down. “Not my meeting, Dad. She was here on business related to her job.”

“I do have one.” At least for the next few days.

“None of this matters because the lunch was a formality only. And it ending means I need to get to the office.” Jackson pushed his chair back.

For some reason that seemed to tick off Harlan. “We’re not done.”

Oh, I don’t know about that. It felt like we were done.

I stood up when Jackson did. Harlan didn’t take the hint. He continued to sit there. The look he shot me carried a chill. I got it. He didn’t like me very much. I didn’t know why or what I’d done, but the feeling was mutual.

Jackson turned to me. “We can continue our conversation at dinner.”

When did we agree to another dinner?

He’d supported me with Brock, so I supported him here. “Okay. Sure...”

Jackson nodded at someone behind me before looking at me again. “Be at my place around seven.”

Seven? I’d finished dinner and moved on to dessert by seven most nights. But Harlan’s presence killed my ability to shoot smart-ass replies in Jackson’s direction. I also didn’t hate the idea of dinner with Jackson at his condo. If he cooked as well as he did everything else I might lose it and kiss him again. Make it a once-a-decade thing.

Jackson stepped around me to talk with someone. Harlan used the conversation interruption to push his case.

He stood. “Can I be honest with you?”

That sentence starter didn’t sound good. “Sure.”

“Jackson has a bright future.”

Interesting how Harlan managed to make that sound ominous. “Okay.”

“Naturally, with my connections and expertise, I stepped up to marshal his aspirations in an appropriate direction. To provide guidance and focus.”

If Harlan wasn’t careful his overinflated ego might pop.

“Hisaspirations?” Because it sounded like Harlan was using the wrong pronoun.

“The timing of these exploratory meetings is crucial.”

We were back to calling today’s event a meeting. Still clueless but fine.

“As it is, I’ve had to push Jackson and insist on his attention to get this done. I’d hate for him to lose out on this opportunity because he got temporarily distracted.” Harlan packed a lot of posturing into the words he didn’t say.

I was getting blamed for something, but I wasn’t sure what.

“I’m here to offer him support. That’s the extent of my involvement,” Harlan said.

Sure.