He leans on the windowsill with his hands gripping either side of the ledge next to his hips, the mountains a beautiful backdrop from what I’m guessing is the office he’s claiming. “What brings you back?” he asks, tilting his head, assessing me.
I blink to force the tears back that want to break free. My dad is a private man and he was clear that no one is to find out about his illness. He doesn’t want people to think he’s weak and vulnerable.
“I recently finished law school and need to pass the bar, so I thought I’d come home while I study.”
He nods. It wasn’t a complete lie. I do need to study and pass the bar if I’m ever going to practice law. “How did you like Washington? Is that where you’re going to practice once you pass?”
I nod my head. “Yes.”
Another lie. The last thing I’m worried about is passing any state bar exam. It can wait until my dad’s healthy again.
Ford shoves both his hands into his pockets. One thing I was always jealous of when it came to the Classholes was the way they held their confidence. “Would you have time to help out with my campaign?”
I tilt my head to the side. “Depends on what you have in mind?”
He smiles. “I’d like you to come on board and act as my press secretary.”
“You realize I have no experience?”
Ford rocks back on his heels. “I’m aware. But I also know that you volunteered at the NCAAP for the duration of your time in Washington and that you helped out with Senator Richie’s campaign. Not to mention some of the work you did at legal aid. All that makes me think that you’re someone who wants to make a difference in the world.” He winks, like he’s the change the city needs.
He’s not wrong. Ever since the sex tape got leaked senior year, my sole focus has been to earn my law degree so that I can help those who can’t help themselves. I want to stand up for the little guy.
“Ford, I’m getting nervous. Do you know what color panties and bra I’m wearing too?” I press my lips together. An uneasiness arises in my stomach that he was able to dig all that information up about me.
He chuckles and his hands lift out of his pockets, crossing over his chest. “I could probably tell you where you bought them.”
I raise my eyebrows.
“I do my homework. We’re good together.”
“We are?”
“Not like that. You’re not going to be my dirty little secretary, Isla. You don’t have the experience a seasoned press secretary would, but that works in our favor. Sometimes the problem with politics is that the approach is too political.”
“I can’t disagree.” If my time in Washington taught me anything, it was that politics is about who you know and who has the money to make things happen.
“Tell me you’ll be here through the election in May?”
“Yes.” Mostly because I’ll be spending my time with my father, but he’ll never allow me to hover over him. If I do nothing, I’ll go crazy recalculating everything that happened in the past and how the outcome for my father in the future is out of my control.
“I’d love for you to stay on after I win, but we’ll cross that bridge after my induction.” His smirk holds the arrogance of Rocky Balboa.
“How very arrogant of you to assume you’ll be the winner.”
“You’re on team Masterson now, no negativity.”
“Did I miss the part where I accepted?” I smile and he laughs, putting both of his hands in the air.
“Please, Miss Flores, speak your demands.”
I don’t really have any other than needing some time off. As I wonder how to respond, he shows his true colors of hating silence. In high school, Ford would argue points with the teacher because he couldn’t handle not speaking for an entire fifty minutes.
“I can’t lie and say that we won’t be busy—we have our work cut out for us—but there will be time for you to do whatever you have going on.”
I chew on my bottom lip while I contemplate his offer. Being a press secretary for a mayoral election would be great experience to take back with me to Washington. This leaves one area that we need to discuss.
“Do you still hang around the Classholes?”
Ford barks out a laugh. “I haven’t heard that word since high school. But, yeah, I do.”