Page 95 of Try Me

If I went home, my dad would know something was up the second I stepped through the door, I was sure of it. And my mom? Forget about it. Even speaking to her was probably dangerous.

“But you’ll be at the party next Sunday? It’s important to him.”

His campaign party, the one he’d been looking forward to all summer. God, how I dreaded it. “Yeah, Ma,” I said with a sigh. “I’ll be there. My roommates, too, if they can make it.”

“Oh good. I’ll look forward to seeing them.” Her voice was warm, which softened my attitude a little bit. “You know that blue suit you have? I was thinking that might look nice. There’ll be a photographer from the paper there, and one of their columnists is covering it for the society page. I’m wearing a navy sheath and…” She prattled on about the minutiae.

Chet hooked a finger around the frame of his sunglasses, ticking them lower. He arched a brow, dark lashes glossy in the afternoon light.

After a quick glance over my shoulder to find Sam busy with the charcoal, I curled a finger under Chet’s chin and drew him in for a quick kiss, then answered my mom with a breathlessyesabout whether my black oxfords were still in good shape.

I set my phone aside a few minutes later. “Go to this party with me next weekend.”

Chet threw his head back and laughed. “Your dad’s campaign party? Are you fucking crazy? That’s his big moment. He’d probably have me sniped.”

“He doesn’t want that on his record, trust me. Actually, it’s kind of perfect.” The idea had popped into my head after I’d kissed Chet, and it’d been whirling around, gathering momentum for the rest of the conversation. “Maybe it’s a dick move, yeah, but it’s the best idea I’ve got. It’s fighting fire with fire. With that many important people there, along with the media, Dad’s not going to want to jeopardize the public’s view of him by making a big scene over who I’ve brought as my date. Shit, law school, though.” I deflated. “He’ll definitely be on a rampage after that. Never mind.”

“No,” Chet said vehemently, shoving the sunglasses to the top of his head. “Let’s do it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, if I’m going down, I’d rather do it with fireworks than skulk around trying to stay out of his way. Fuck it. Let’s go all in.”

I studied Chet’s crooked smile and the resolution glittering in his eyes and wasn’t sure if I could be any more in love with him. “All in, then.”

“I like this plan,” Sam chimed in with a firm nod. “And if anyone comes after you, Pynch, I’ll set their heads straight real quick.”

I noted how quickly Sam had adopted Chet’s nickname, along with assuming protective custody of him. An exchanged glance with Chet revealed the same amusement.

“You mean like that time at Nate and Eric’s when you held my arms behind my back so Farrow could punch me?” Chet asked skeptically.

Sam flashed him a broad smile. “Exactly.”

32

Mark

With a little over a week left of our internship, and the mock trial over, I found myself thinking about my future more, and whether a law career was what I really wanted. I’d always been good at finance, just like my dad was, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to be responsible for someone else’s money. The thing was, I was having the same issue with law. I liked the research, and I liked the tasks and assignments I could complete myself. But I hadn’t enjoyed the mock trial, and after having gone to court a few times, I didn’t think I’d like being in a courtroom, arguing a case in front of an audience. I was more like my mom than I’d realized; I preferred hanging back and observing. I had no desire to be in the spotlight.

“There are a lot of different kinds of law, though,” John said one afternoon when I was hanging out in his cubicle passing time. Chet had gone to court with Lena. He went every chance he got. Where I shrank back from it, he’d return all fired up, rambling on about everything from jury selection to key witnesses. He’d gotten to assist Lena with a deposition, and I swore he’d gotten hard while recounting the questions they’d hammered the person with. It was his thing in a way I was starting to suspect would never be mine.

John rolled back in his chair and stretched his legs out long, crossing them at the ankles. “Not all types of law involve having to go to court to try a case as often. There’s creditors’ rights. Estate law is incredibly lucrative, and the court time can be minimal, though you have to put up with crazy-ass family members arguing about money. You will have to get really comfortable presenting cases and arguing in law school, though, so that’s certainly something to think about. Transaction lawyers mostly work for corporations and do deal structuring or regulatory compliance. With your financial background and time spent at your dad’s company, you’d probably be well suited to that kind of job.”

I mulled transaction law as I returned a box of files to the file room and began putting them away. John had mentioned real estate law, too, which seemed like another good option. Somehow that led to a tangential daydream involving Chet and a coastal golf course, a cooler of beer in the back of our cart. I’d bet he hadn’t played in forever. Shit, I probably stood a chance of beating him at that. I grinned as I slotted another file in the cabinet, then caught the edge of the drawer just before it closed.

I inched it back open, running my thumb over the tabs until I came across the one that had caught my eye: Jemison vs. Farrow Capital.

* * *

“Ready yet?”

“Nope.” Chet had asked me three times in the last fifteen minutes while pacing in front of my window, and I’d given the same answer every time.

I’d located the outfit my mom had suggested and then switched out the shirt, deciding it didn’t quite work. But the next option, a white oxford, hadn’t looked any better, which was when I realized I was just stalling, because white went with everything. Or so I’d always been told.

So I put the original shirt back on while Chet’s amusement seemed to grow since he knew exactly what I was doing, too.

I couldn’t help it. All week anticipation and anxiety had been building up inside me like sedimentary rock, one layer on top of the other. One minute I felt immense relief that we were finally going to make a move, for better or worse. The next, cold fear streaked through me and I broke out in a sweat, thinking of how everything could go wrong and how my dad might react, thinking of fifty million different ways things could end badly. In the worst vision, my dad called the cops and had Chet arrested for trespassing, and even though Chet assured me that wouldn’t happen, that my dad was way too calculating to make a move like that, I’d become damn near hysterical about it one night.