It was said with that familiar cocky tone of his, that swagger that irritated me to no end. And it reminded me just how big an asshole Darren was. And how cruel he’d actually been the first time I’d ever tried to speak with him. Maybe I shouldn’t have still been upset by it, because everyone does stupid things when they’re young, but I was having a hard time equating that Darren to this Darren, and the sooner I remembered that they were one and the same, the better. This whole thing was a farce, a means to an end, and nothing more. I was sitting here on the phone flirting with him. I felt rather disgusted with myself over it.
“Why did you call?” I asked, voice clipped.
He heard the change immediately. “Hey, no. Sandy, I didn’t mean it like—”
“It’s fine,” I said. “Did you need something?”
He sighed. “Would you just—”
“Darren.”
“Goddammit,” he growled. “Why do you have to always make things so fucking difficult?”
“That’s who I am,” I said. “Just like this is who you are. Last time, Darren. What did you want?”
“I spoke with my father.”
That made me pause. “Really?”
“Yeah.” He sounded frustrated. “I was surprised too. I thought I’d have to push a few more times before I’d actually get through to him. But I told my boss I was thinking about reaching out to him and the next thing I know, Mark is telling me that the mayor wanted to speak with me and maybe I could call him.”
“When was the last time you spoke with him?”
He laughed bitterly. “Vince’s mom’s funeral. He told me I was a disappointment when I sided with you all over him.”
I didn’t know Darren had talked to him privately. All I could really remember was the low-level fury I felt watching Andrew Taylor berate his son while his wife and the mother of his child lay in a casket at the other end of the church. He was an almost stereotypical villain, with his rants
and diatribes about the liberals who were destroying America and how immigrants and gays were going to bring the downfall of civilized society. His followers ate it up, and there was talk that years down the road, if groomed just right, he could be a potential presidential candidate. That thought was more terrifying than any other. All I had to do was turn on the news and see the rabid Tea Party or religious right frothing at the mouth, eulogizing the morals of America by way of pointing fingers and casting judgment. This was a man that I didn’t fear, per se, as much as I feared how he could easily corral his followers like sheep behind him.
Who’d also had an affair with a nurse, resulting in the man I was speaking to on the phone.
“What did he want?” I asked.
“It was weird,” he said. “He acted like he actually cared about what was going on with me. He asked me how I was liking my job. Where I was living now. What I did outside of work.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. “That’s good, right? Well, as good as talking to evil can be.”
“Uh,” he said. “That’s not the bad part.”
“Oh. What is, then?”
“I may or may not have told him I was seeing someone.”
I sat straight up. “You what?” Holy shit. If Darren told his dad that he was gay, it would be a huge step for him. Yeah, it’d probably fuck up our plans, but even I knew what was important here and if he’d finally made that decision, then I’d—
“Yeah,” he said. “That just really slipped out. I don’t even know why I said it. One minute we’re talking about the city council, and the next he’s asking if there’s anyone special in my life. And before I knew it had even happened, he was under the impression that I had a girlfriend named Helena and now he’s invited us both to a lunch at the country club because he wants to meet the girl that’s managed to tie me down. So, it’s not too bad, right? I mean, what’s the worst that could possibly happen? Good. I’m glad we’ve had this talk. I’ll text you with the details and we’ll figure it out later! Bye!”
“Darren Rasputin Mayne,” I growled. “If you hang up that phone, I will end you.”
“My middle name’s not Rasputin,” he said. “What the hell. How does that even sound like that’d be my middle name?”
“It sounded dramatic,” I admitted. “I needed it for reasons. What’s your middle name? Is it something awesome like Vince’s? Like Olga? Or Leslie?”
“It’s Matthew.”
“Oh. That’s… disappointing.”
“Sorry.”