Imperative Fate Read Online Free PDF Page B

thinking off the top of my head. “You’ll take me to Congress so you can do your camp some good? As in we can go to Congress to be among your future colleagues, tour the halls to your will-be office and ‘deface it’ with our love? Drop the idea on Mr. Moss or whoever to go to the House-Senate whatchamacallit? Cuz that’s going to be about what I think it’ll cost,” I bargained, rocking on the edge of the bar, my bare feet rubbing the grenade in his lap.
    He looked up at me incredulously. “Baby girl, you ’most make it sound better than it’ll be.” He tilted his head back and gazed inquisitively a moment. “You never have any idea what you’re asking for.”
    I clutched him by the tie and roused, “I’ll make it better if you let me. You have no idea.”
    His breath was liquor on my lips.
    “Leave,” I insisted before our lips touched. “It up,” I charged as they met in the middle. “To me,” I husked in the crescendo, fingers tracing his chin, our pupils tracing those fingers and darting in symmetry.
    And they call Alexander Hamilton the Great Compromiser . . . Ain’t got nothin’ on me . . .
    ~ *** ~
    Ecstatic to tell her the good news, I stalked Ellie Anne in the lobby while she conversed with her fast-walking father. Funny, I thought, I haven’t seen them together once in two days and now that they are, he’s desperate to get away from her.
    But I couldn’t be bothered with that so much. I just got another one of Arthur’s emaciated threats and was sure I’d outdo him. Crafting another lie to Mama? No problem. This place is swarming with professional liars! Arthur? Too much of a pansy to tell! House-Senate Deal? In the bag. Arthur’s got no proof.
    Brows pulled like an anxious dog, Ellie had just let go of her father’s arm as he slipped into a conference room when I caught up.
    I hailed, “Hey, Ellie, guess what!” like a cheerleader.
    “Hi,” she drained, body stiff and stylish as a mannequin.
    “That’s not how you’re supposed to respond, silly!” I playfully shoved her. “Guess; you know this one!”
    “ Tell me ,” she scraped with a disarming stare.
    “ Wow ,” I said. “If you’ll be like that, I’m not sure it matters anymore.” I mimicked her pout.
    She realized she was being crabby and became repentant without a word.
    I broke composure. “Anthony’s set for Capitol Hill!” I exclaimed to oust her tart feeling like a liberated banshee, taking her by the elbows and jumping up and down.
    “That’s great!” she joined in, her frown thawing. “Now Gilbert can divide the pestering between us!” She brightened the more she contemplated. “And Anthony will score some political points, carry them in his pockets ’til November—”
    “And he’ll win, our fathers’ schedules will sync, and we can continue our plan for world domination—or something like that!” I finished in a flurry of giggles, Ellie’s hopping apparent by this point.
    A sleek smile cut through her cheeks. “All we need now is some poll testing and revelry,” she asserted, rubbing her hands together. But upon scanning my dumbfounded expression, she clarified, “That means we sneak into one of these rooms, slip Anthony’s name into some of the politico’s heads, and slip out with their booze. Got it?” She was bubbling with anticipation. “Dahlia, don’t get left behind!”
    “Then let’s go!” I heralded, knowing she’d be better at mingling than me.
    And I couldn’t have been more right. She was chatting up a young suit before I got a hold of one of the salon doors.
    “You know, Harold, you were there !” she laughed like a good aristocrat as I walked through the threshold.
    Harold, the boyish 30-something with ash blond hair smiled, bopping his head with hers like they were listening to good Jazz. “I been a lotta places, kid, can’t remember ’ em all,” he said as jovial as Yakko Warner and took her arm. “But I remember that one.”
    “You ought to with what