Page 12 of The Politician

That was a lot of information in one sentence. “I understand that, sure, but living here? I’d live here?”

“Surely you don’t think I can wait for you to arrive all the way from where you live?”

Again, so much to ingest in a short time. “How…how do you know where I live?”

Lee’s brow twitched before it raised alone, his eyes never moving, though. “I don’t, but I’m guessing it’s not a ten-minute drive from here. I’m sorry, but anything ten minutes from here, and, well, you’d likely not need this job.”

That was insulting but true.

“You’ll have a nice place to live, a job that pays better than anything you can find elsewhere, and you’ll meet all the right people so that when you’re finished here…”

It was the opportunity of a lifetime. He saw it as plain as day, but still, there was something not being said.

“If I don’t fit in well, or we don’t…mesh. Uh, I would have at least time to find another place to live?”

“Of course. I’m not unreasonable, although after working for me a while, you might think differently.”

There was so much to take in, and yet not enough to be well informed. It was as if Lee was enticing him to take the job, and not interviewing him at all.

“Was there anything you need to know about me?”

Lee settled back on the couch, casually smiling at him. “Sure. How do you take your scotch?”

That was so out of left field that Eli barked a laugh. “Scotch?”

“Yes, Eli. My father taught me that it’s telling about a man, how he takes his scotch.”

It was his turn to settle into the comfortable cushions. Thinking it over, the two times he’d had scotch, the good stuff, anyway, he’d taken it straight up. “In a rocks glass, no ice, two fingers.”

The leering smile soon spread on Lee’s face as he crossed one leg over the other and rested his hands, right on top of the left, on that leg. “Perfect. I think you’ll do well here, Eli.”

“I’d like at least a night to think about it. Is that okay?”

“Of course, Eli. I’m not holding you hostage. Yet,” he finished with a devilish chuckle.

Mars was back in the room without being called, making Eli believe he was listening at the door. “Sir, may I escort Mr. Bloom to the front door?”

“Yes, Mars. Thank you.”

Stepping into the faded light of evening, his head was spinning, and he couldn’t decide if he was happier than he was afraid.

In the car once again, Sandy started asking him five questions at once and all Eli could do was look back up at the imposing house and whisper, “Get home.”