Avion
I n retrospect, I probably should have gone with more than a bowl of cereal and a couple of pieces of toast for the day.
Staring into the bowl, I’d only gotten halfway in, and the rest was already soggy.
A large cup of coffee was my own saving grace, but it had half a gallon too little whisky to get me through what I had to deal with today.
Glancing down at my tablet, and the long list of engagements my father was dragging me into, it was going to be a miracle if I made it through the day.
I knew that he was the Governor and all, but why did he have to do so much in one day?
Ordinarily, it was difficult to get him out of his house for a single speaking engagement, now he’s got his day charted out like he was about to leave town or something.
Every two or three minutes, I received another email, ranging from people confirming appearance times for the day, down to hotel staff sending me check-in confirmations.
It was infuriating. When I agreed to take on the role as my father’s campaign manager, it was with the understanding that I was not his personal assistant, but rather running his campaigns and promotion.
Both he and my brothers assured me, fifteen times over, that this was the case, so I didn’t need to be worried about being shoved into some corner and treated like a receptionist.
That turned out to be a mega lie.
My phone rang, and I picked it up, not even looking at the screen to see who was calling and slammed it against my ear. “Hello?” I snapped.
“Yikes,” a familiar, friendly voice responded. “Is now not a good time?”
“Oh,” I let out a sigh. “Lorie, hi. Sorry, I’ve been fielding calls and emails from my dad’s people all morning and I’m annoyed.”
Lorie was my best friend and had been since we met in college.
Thanks to the hectic schedule of my dad’s campaign, I hadn’t gotten to see her much, which was likely the reason I was so on edge as of late.
I was a textbook over worker and struggled to keep myself relaxed.
She, on the other hand, was my friend who dragged me to parties in college even when I didn’t want to go.
Thanks to her, I actually had some semblance of a normal life, at least until I graduated with my master’s degree and started working for my dad.
Now I was back to square one.
“I told you it wasn’t a good idea to take the job,” Lorie said.
I sighed, swirling around my rapidly dissolving cereal in the milk in front of me.
“I know, but it’s the whole family thing.
My brothers are in it, my mom was in it when she was still alive.
She asked me to keep an eye on my dad, and how better to do it than to work as his campaign manager, or if you’re the Milton Resort and Spa downtown, his receptionist.”
Lorie chuckled. “Did things with CJ teach you nothing?”
I rolled my eyes, hating even hearing his name. “I’m not sure of your point.”
“You’re not sure of my point?” Lorie said. “Your dad tells you to date some tesla driving, Sperrys wearing, ‘do-you-know-who-my-dad-is,’ snot-nosed brat and you did it, why? Because you think that’s what your mom meant when she told you to listen to your old man.”
I frowned. I tried my hardest to remember my mom’s face, but it was hazy in my mind.
It was only a little before my sixth birthday when she died.
I knew that she had my same long, thin, red-orange hair and olive-green eyes—typical French traits.
I also obtained her freckles which poured across my face and down my arms, but she’d given her height to my brothers, who otherwise shared my dad’s blond hair and blue eyes.
Despite the fact that having children was dangerous for her, she continued to do it because my dad wanted a big family.
After me, she was damaged beyond repair and the toll it took on her body slowly killed her.
Her dying wishes were for me to always listen to my father, keep an eye on him because he didn’t know how to take care of himself, and live the best life I could.
I promised her that I would do all of these things, which I accomplished by working for my dad, getting straight A’s in school, from grade school all the way through my master’s degree, and yes, by listening to my father even when it wasn’t in my best interest.
“I eventually drew the line at CJ,” I said. “I broke up with him.”
“After way too long,” Lorie complained. “You missed out on all of the joys of your junior and senior year because of him. All because his dad played golf with yours.”
“Your dad also plays golf with my dad,” I retorted.
“Ugh,” she groaned, “don’t remind me. My dad claims he’s not a sellout, but why else would the police chief buddy up to the governor?”
I smiled. “I love you. Fight the man.”
“You know I will,” Lorie quipped back.
“Well, I’m glad I dropped CJ, but I have no plans to drop you, so there you go,” I said.
“Damn straight you aren’t dropping me. You’re stuck with me for life,” she said. “On the topic of CJ. How did that date go on Wednesday?”
“Um… what date?” I asked.
“Tell me you didn’t cancel it,” Lorie said.
I shook my head. “No, I think you’re mistaken.”
“I am not mistaken. I set you up with the guy from my office, Tanner. He’s really great, I think you’d love him,” she said. “Is this why he’s been avoiding me at work? You blew him off?”
“I didn’t blow him off! I told him I wasn’t feeling well and asked if we could reschedule,” I squeaked back.
“Were you feeling unwell?” Lorie asked.
“No…”
“Have you rescheduled?”
I took a noncommittal sip of my coffee. “No.”
“Avionnnnn,” Lorie moaned. “What are you going to do, just work forever and never be happy?”
“Of course not,” I replied. “It’s perfectly normal to be a career woman for a bit before looking for love first, I’ll get there.”
“That is perfectly normal, and nothing even says you have to look for love, but I know that you want that, and I know you won’t take any time for it. You’re such a workaholic, plus you have that whole thing with your dad’s circle,” Lorie said. “Just… make time for you, okay kid?”
“I will,” I replied. “I promise.”
“I shudder to even ask, but what are you doing tomorrow? It’s Saturday, the day when most twenty-three-year-olds go out with their friends and get drinks or go dancing or pick up cute guys. Whaddya say? Let’s go be normal for a night.”
“That actually doesn’t sound half bad,” I said. “My dad planned a million things for today and nothing for tomorrow, so it should be okay. I’ll call you in the morning. If my dad and brothers haven’t killed me with these back-to-back engagements today, then I’m in.”
I heard her clap on the other line. “Yes! I’m so excited.”
“But no boys. It’s not work or anything, I just want to spend a relaxing night with my bestie,” I said.
She sighed then. “Fine. I guess because you’re flattering me, I’ll let it slide, but next time we go out, you have to let me find you some cute guys to bring home.”
I rolled my eyes, mostly because she couldn’t see me, but also because I knew it would be a while before we’d go out again.
“Deal.” My phone buzzed in my hand and I could see text messages rolling in from my brothers.
Specifically, my immediate older brother, Anton.
It wasn’t even eight yet and they were blowing my phone up making sure I’d be ready to go when they arrived.
“Lor, I gotta go. My brothers are trying to track me down and I have a few calls to make before I leave.”
“Fine. Tell Vincent that when he’s ready to fall in love with me, I’m here.”
I scoffed. “Yeah, I’ll get right on that.”
She giggled. “Hey, it’s not my fault all that beauty runs in your family.”
“Bye Lorie,” I hissed.
“Bye,” she replied, and I could hear her chuckling until the line went dead.
I shook my head as I navigated to my text messages. Little did Lorie know that love or marriage of any kind were literally the furthest things from my eldest brother’s mind.
Anton’s text was a very simple, “Call me,” but given that I’d be spending all day with him, I had absolutely no interest in speaking with him so early in the morning. Both he and my older brother, Vincent, would survive not hearing my voice until we were in one another’s presence within an hour.
I had to get ready anyway.
Instead of calling him, I replied, quite simply, “I’ll see you soon, tell me then.”
The response was almost immediate, “Don’t forget to wear something nice.”
My blood started to boil as I read the text over.
In most family situations, a reminder to wear something nice would be just that.
Maybe it would be annoying that they felt a reminder was needed, but that was about it.
In my family, however, it meant something different.
‘Nice’ didn’t mean ‘presentable’, it meant ‘sultry’.
Politicians were typically much easier to deal with when there was a scantily dressed piece of legal tender hanging around.
It wasn’t often that I regretted looking like my mother, but my father and brothers found a way.
Short of straight up pimping me out, they used me and my blessed curves to distract the eye while schmoozing with New York City’s most important and elite.
It was like bringing a bottle of wine or fresh bread to a party.
But instead, they brought me in a dress with lots of cleavage.
In a brief attempt to maintain some control and dignity, I wore things that I still felt comfortable in without giving too much away.
Pant suits covered me up, even if the pants were a little tighter, and a dress that covered my chest up to my neck but showed my arms and more legs.
At least it was as if I wasn’t putting it all on display, while pleasing my father and brothers’ desire for a little eye candy.
They never let anyone get too close to me, so it wasn’t too bad.