Chapter 8
Text message transcript: Walt, Judy, and Anya Katz
When Anya’s parents first told her they wanted to spend the summer in Las Vegas volunteering for the Sessego campaign, Anya told them not to—she’d be working long hours, she’d never see them, and Las Vegas in the summer was hotter than the surface of the sun.
But now that it was only a week before they were heading back to Chicago, Anya had to admit it had worked out kind of perfectly.
Walt and Judy rented a house with a pool, and it was such a treat to go over after work for a swim and a home-cooked meal.
Judy had quickly become one of the head volunteers at the Vegas phone bank, while Walt found what could only be described as a lifelong calling working as a tracker for the research department.
In theory, his only job was to go to the opponent’s campaign events and pose as a supporter, filming everything in case anyone said anything that could be used to the Sessego campaign’s advantage.
It was a simple task, requiring nothing more than holding up a phone and not standing out too much (as an older white man, Walt fit the demographic to a T).
But Walt had taken his assignment more seriously than anyone anticipated, inventing an entire persona for his right-wing alter ego, befriending the opposing campaign’s volunteers, even occasionally worming his way into off-limits areas.
“This is the fault of Tom Clancy,” Judy remarked one night over dinner. She had grilled a big platter of lamb chops for Anya, Zeke, Kira, and Simone. “Walt always wanted to be Jack Reacher.”
“Tom Clancy is Jack Ryan,” Walt corrected. “I wanted to be Jack Ryan.”
“Clearly the superior Jack,” Kira affirmed. “I loved those books when I was in high school. My mom thought I must have had a crush on all those tough military men. She was unfamiliar with the concept of gender envy.”
“I never let Anya read that dreck,” Judy said, then lowered her voice. “You know Jack Ryan’s a Republican.”
“Perish the thought,” Walt laughed.
“So what did Anya read? Thomas Moore?” Kira teased.
“For school!” Anya protested. “No, I was a huge fantasy nerd. Dragons, curses, royal intrigue—”
“But you didn’t like Lord of the Rings,” Simone tutted. “Clearly not a woman of taste.”
“I tried,” Walt said wearily. “She got bored after fifty pages.”
“There was more kissing in the fantasy books I liked,” Anya said, and everyone laughed. Zeke put his hand on her knee affectionately, and Anya turned to smile at him. “What about you, hon? What were your favorite books in high school?”
Zeke turned a little pink. “I was more into getting high with my friends and playing video games.”
“Ohh, so you had friends beyond the imaginary ones in books,” Simone joked. “What was that like?”
They all laughed again, but Anya still felt guilty for putting Zeke on the spot. Luckily, he was laughing too; he didn’t seem bothered at all. That was what she loved most about him—he was so steady and affable. Being around him always made her feel calm.
So she was thrilled to see him waiting with her parents when she got to the lobby of the Strat, the hotel where Simone was throwing the first of two celebrations for Kira’s birthday.
The Strat was by far the tallest building on the strip, and Simone had invited basically the whole campaign team for afternoon drinks at the bar on its 108th floor.
As Anya approached, she saw that Zeke was carrying three large Tupperware containers filled with cupcakes.
“Mom, that’s like two hundred cupcakes! How many people do you think are gonna be here? !”
“How should I know?” Judy shrugged. “Kira’s very popular, and besides, Zeke’s strong, he can handle it.”
“Both true statements.” Anya made eye contact with Zeke, who stifled a smile.
He was wearing gym shorts and an old T-shirt with more than one hole; Anya wished he’d put in a little more effort.
Not that they needed to be fancy to hang out with a bunch of people from the campaign, and they had to look nice later for Kira’s second birthday celebration (drinks at Chandelier Bar).
Still, Anya had put on a cute little sundress, red with ruffled straps and smocking across the bust, and red lipstick to match.
She wished they looked more like a couple.
“What’s wrong?” Zeke tilted his head, reading her expression. “Everything okay at work?”
“Yes, totally fine.” Anya felt like an asshole. Of course he’d be sweet to her while she stood there judging him. “Can I help with the cupcakes?”
“Get real, Annie.” Zeke leaned over to kiss her cheek.
“Good man.” Walt gave Zeke a clap on the back.
“Your father’s been in character all afternoon.” Judy rolled her eyes. “Let’s get upstairs and see if a beer can’t fix him.”
Anya gave her dad a hug as they all crowded into an elevator. The doors were about to close when someone said “Hold on!” and a hand shot in to block them—
“Oh,” Gabe said when the doors opened back up and he realized who was inside. “Hi.”
“Hey, Gabe,” Anya replied, hoping her voice didn’t sound as unbelievably awkward as she felt. He was wearing olive-green chino shorts and a thick navy tee with cuffed sleeves. “These are my parents, Walt and Judy. Mom, Dad, this is—”
“We know who Gabe is.” Judy waved Anya off and smiled at Gabe. “You worked together in Ohio! And then I found that video of him kitesurfing on your phone, remember, Anya?”
“Is that right?” Gabe grinned and shot Anya a look. Anya closed her eyes. This wasn’t happening.
“Right, kitesurfing guy.” Walt nodded at Gabe. “But then, you’ve seen my videos too.”
“Your videos?” Gabe frowned.
“A certain backstage tour of our opponent’s rally?” Walt peered over his glasses.
“That was you?” Gabe’s eyes widened with recognition. “Anya, you didn’t tell me your dad was our best tracker!”
“Best?” Walt beamed. “Really?”
“Absolutely! You’re the one who always wears a Mets cap, right?”
“I think it’s important to work some aspects of my real personality into the character,” Walt said seriously. “Makes it more believable.”
“Wait, and you sleep in a Mets shirt.” Gabe turned to Anya. “But I thought you guys were from Chicago?”
“He knows what you sleep in?” Zeke gave Anya a curious look.
“This is my boyfriend, Zeke!” Anya said much too loudly.
“Right.” Gabe nodded. “Hey, man. Good to meet you. You work for Flannery?”
“Sure do,” Zeke confirmed.
“Zeke’s one of their top organizers in the state,” Anya bragged.
“Good for you.” Gabe smiled. “I was actually Florida field director for Flannery four years ago.”
“Nice.” Zeke gave Gabe a friendly nod. Anya dug her nails into her palm.
The elevator lurched to a stop and the doors slid open with a ding.
Thank god, Anya thought as they all walked into the bar—a fairly plain space with spectacular views of Las Vegas and the desert beyond.
The bar was pretty much empty except for the Sessego team (Vegas wasn’t exactly a popular destination in late August). Simone and Kira came rushing over.
“Walt, Judy, you made it!” Kira threw out her arms to hug them.
“Wouldn’t miss it, kiddo,” Walt said.
“I baked!” Judy added.
Simone gaped at Judy. “Stop it, no you didn’t.”
“Flourless chocolate cupcakes with cinnamon cream cheese icing?” Judy affected a blasé tone. “I may have.”
“You’re the best mom ever.” Kira wrapped her arm around Judy’s shoulders.
“Where do you want them?” Zeke asked, and Kira pointed out a table in the corner of the bar that was piled with gifts.
“I’ll help!” Anya said quickly. “Happy birthday!”
She gave Kira a tight hug, then hurried to follow Zeke. Simone gave Anya a look—Is something going on? Anya shook her head almost imperceptibly—I’ll tell you later.
“I’m so sorry about Gabe,” Anya said as soon as they were out of earshot.
“What do you mean?” Zeke made a face. “He was fine. You’re the one acting weird.”
“He was not fine!” Anya squeaked. “That dig about your job title? And talking about what I sleep in? He was trying to get a rise out of you!”
“Nooope.” Zeke set the cupcakes on the table and turned to Anya. “He was trying to get a rise out of you—and seems like he succeeded?”
Anya sighed, and Zeke wrapped his arms around her waist.
“I’m such an idiot,” she grumbled. “I don’t know why I let him get to me like that.”
Zeke eyed her. “Out of curiosity, how does he know what you sleep in?”
“That dumb group trip to Vieques,” Anya said. “We got stuck sharing a room—the kids’ room. With many bunk beds, and board games and stuffed animals. Not sexy—the opposite of sexy.”
“I see.” Zeke nodded playfully. “And the kitesurfing video?”
“That was nothing!” Anya sputtered, her face flaming red. “You remember that Politico article in May? The one I got all worked up about, when Gabe took credit for my idea?”
“Sort of?”
“It mentioned this video of Gabe and his girlfriend kitesurfing. You left for a trip that day, and that night when I got home I was so angry about the whole thing, so I looked up the video and watched it.”
Zeke laughed, low and hearty, which made Anya feel even more embarrassed.
“What’s funny?” she asked, her voice small.
“Watching a video to make yourself madder? That’s the most Anya thing I’ve ever heard.”
Anya laughed at that too, then exhaled in frustration.
“But see, now you’re asking me about it! This is what he wanted!”
“He’s an evil genius,” Zeke agreed solemnly. “Luckily, you don’t date evil geniuses.”
“True.” Anya leaned her head against Zeke’s chest. “I much prefer big, rugged frontiersmen.”
“Is that so?” Zeke pulled Anya close and kissed her deeply. God, he was such a good kisser. She hoped Gabe was watching them. She hoped he felt colossally stupid for trying to drive a wedge into a relationship that was so obviously great.