Chapter 17
Red, White, and Bullshite
CALEB
My father's campaign events always reek of money, power, and insecurity, all covered with a thin veneer of perfume and cologne that costs more per ounce than some people's monthly rent. Tonight is no exception.
The Port Chester Hotel's grand ballroom has been transformed into a shrine to my father's political ambitions.
Red, white, and blue decorations adorn every surface, and giant posters featuring his carefully perfect smile loom over the crowd.
STATE SENATOR HUNTINGTON: FAMILY VALUES, FISCAL RESPONSIBILITY proclaims the banner stretched across the main stage.
I adjust my tie for the tenth time since we arrived. "Remember, smile at the donors, but not too much. You don't want to look desperate."
"Is there a handbook for this stuff?" Gavin asks, looking around with undisguised fascination. "Like 'Political Fundraisers for Dummies'?"
"If not, I should've written it by now. I've been attending these since I was old enough to wear a suit without drooling on it."
James stands quietly beside me, taking everything in with those eyes that miss nothing. "Your father certainly can draw a crowd."
He's right. The room is packed with the usual suspects: wealthy donors in designer wear, local politicians hoping to advance their careers, and journalists circling like sharks. Everyone wants a piece of the next potential state senator.
"There's an open bar. Feel free to use it... Moderately."
"And the food?" Gavin asks hopefully.
"Circulating appetizers now, the buffet opens at eight." Scanning the crowd, I see potential allies and definite threats. "Let's try to—"
"Caleb! There you are!"
Wincing at the shrill voice, we all turn to see my aunt Margaret bearing down on us, cocktail in hand, pearls gleaming at her throat. Behind her trail, my cousins Rebecca and Thomas, both wearing expressions of calculated interest.
"Aunt Margaret." I plaster on the smile that's passed for genuine at a hundred events like this. "How lovely to see you."
"Oh, these must be your...friends," she says, ignoring me completely, her gaze sliding from James to Gavin with curiosity. The slight pause before "friends" speaks volumes.
"This is my boyfriend, James Hunter." Her smile tightens, visible even through all that Botox. "And our fraternity brother, Gavin Robins."
"Charmed," Aunt Margaret says without sounding it. She turns to James. "So, you're the one we've been hearing about. In what field did you say your family made their fortune?"
James doesn't miss a beat. "I didn't say. But I work in digital communications and internet security."
"How...modern," she replies, clearly underwhelmed. "And your parents?"
"Not in the picture," James says simply.
An awkward silence falls, and Gavin, bless him, immediately fills it. "Those are some amazing pearls, ma'am. Are they heirlooms?"
Aunt Margaret's hand flies to her neck, instantly distracted. "Why, yes, they belonged to my grandmother. You have quite an eye for quality."
As Gavin charms my aunt with flattery, Rebecca sidles up to me.
"So this is the boyfriend," she says under her breath. "Not exactly Huntington standard, is he? What does Daddy think?"
Rebecca. Dad's sister-in-law, married into the family with exactly the right pedigree and an unlimited capacity for cruelty disguised as concern.
We're not enemies; enemies would require actually caring about each other.
She's just another Huntington playing the game, except she seems actually to enjoy it.
"I don't particularly care what Daddy thinks." My voice is cool. "James is brilliant, successful, and kind. Three qualities our family could use more of."
"Meow," Rebecca smirks. "The kitten has claws tonight."
Before I can snap back, my brother Thomas joins us, giving James a once-over that makes my blood boil.
"Interesting choice, Caleb," he says. "We thought after Christopher, you might go for someone more...established."
The mention of Christopher makes my stomach turn. James stiffens beside me, clearly recognizing the name.
"Actually," James cuts in smoothly, "Caleb and I were about to get some drinks. If you'll excuse us."
He places a hand on the small of my back, gently guiding me away from my family. When we are away from them, I feel like I can breathe normally again.
"Thanks."
"Your family is exactly as advertised," he says dryly. "I'm surprised they don't have pitchforks and torches."
That startles a laugh out of me. "The night is young."
We make our way to the bar, where I order a scotch neat. James opts for club soda with lime.
"Not drinking?"
"I think I should stay sharp in this crowd," he says with a small smile. "Besides, I want to remember every excruciating detail of this evening to torture you with later."
Grinning at his opinion of this event. "Fair enough."
Gavin joins us a moment later, looking pleased. "Your aunt introduced me to some bigwig from the athletic department at State. He's a huge football fan."
"Networking already?" Raising an eyebrow at Gavin, who smirks back at me. "Impressive."
"I contain multitudes," Gavin says, ordering a beer. "So what's the plan? Mingle? Hide in a corner? Start a conga line?"
"We should probably make an appearance with my father. Get it over with."
"Lead the way," Gavin says with a wink.
My eyes roll, but I smile at the same time. Gavin is a surprisingly amazing guy to have around. I haven’t tried to get to know him, but now I think I’ve been missing out.
James's hand stays firm on my back as he guides me through the crowd, and somehow that steady pressure is enough. For a moment, I forget that we don't yet know if this is real or pretend.
This feels real.
We find my father holding court near the stage, surrounded by his usual entourage. He's in his element, all perfect teeth and practiced sincerity.
"Ah, and here's my son!" he announces as we approach. "Caleb, I was telling Governor Richards about your work with underprivileged communities."
Blinking, I'm momentarily confused. The only "work" I've done recently is helping James with redesigning websites for LGBTQ+ charities, something my father doesn't know about.
"Don't be modest," my father continues, clapping me on the shoulder. "Caleb has a real heart for service. Gets it from his mother."
The governor, a portly man with shrewd eyes, nods appreciatively. "Wonderful to see young people engaged in giving back. Will you be joining your father's campaign staff after law school?"
"I'm focusing on non-profit law, actually," ignoring my father's slight frown. "And these are my friends, James Hunter and Gavin Robins."
Handshakes are exchanged, and my father's gaze lingers on Gavin with obvious approval before dismissing James entirely.
The governor perks up. "Robins? From the Pacific Coast football team?"
"Yes, sir," Gavin says. "Defensive end."
"Outstanding game against Tech last month," the governor says, then turns to me. "I attended it with your father. He never misses a game."
My smile grows more wooden. Of course, he never misses a football game, but he's managed to skip every debate competition, mock trial, and academic recognition I've ever received.
"If you'll excuse us, we should circulate."
My father catches my arm as I turn to leave. "Remember to mention the family foundation to anyone who seems interested in youth initiatives," he murmurs. "We need to shore up the education donors."
I pull free before he can add anything else. "Alright"
"You okay?" James leans in close to ask as we move away,
"Yeah, Fine. I'm—" Stopping mid-lie. "No, not fine. But I'm well-trained."
"You shouldn't have to be," he says softly.
Before I can answer, my mother's brother David cuts in front of us, looking red-faced from what must be a few too many drinks already.
"Here he is!" Uncle David booms. "My favourite nephew and his... special friend."
Oh fuck, here we go. Cringing internally, I still introduce the guys. "Uncle David, this is my boyfriend, James. And our friend Gavin."
Uncle David's bleary eyes focus on James. "So you're the one who's been plowing my nephew's—"
"David!" My mother appears at precisely the right second to head him off, looking mortified. "That's quite enough."
"What?" Uncle David throws his hands up. "Just making conversation! The boy brings a date, I'm supposed to pretend they're not screwing?"
"Uncle David." The words come out through gritted teeth. "That's inappropriate."
James has gone perfectly still beside me, his expression unreadable. Gavin looks ready to tackle my uncle through the nearest window.
"Oh, don't be so damn touchy," Uncle David scoffs. "It was just a joke."
"Please explain it to us." James's voice is quiet, but it has an edge that cuts through the ambient noise. "How was what you said funny? I'd really like to hear you explain this to everyone pretending they aren't standing beside us, eavesdropping."
The barb hits more than a couple of people who turn and move away from us, but James isn't quite done yet.
"Caleb deserves more respect than that. Especially from family."
My uncle blinks, apparently surprised that someone stood up to him. My mother slides in to smooth things over before Uncle David can react to James's dressing down.
"James, was it? I've heard a great deal about you. Why don't you tell me about your work while David finds himself another drink?" She shoots my uncle a pointed look that could freeze vodka.
Uncle David mutters something but wanders off toward the bar. My mother gives James an apologetic smile.
"I'm sorry about that. David has always been... unfiltered."
"That's one word for it."
"Mrs. Huntington," James says politely. "It's nice to see you again."
Mother studies him closely. "Likewise. Caleb rarely brings friends to these events more than once, let alone someone special."
Heat rises up my cheeks. "Mother..."