The Kingmaker

It’s a shame he doesn’t want to run because I’m here for everything he just said. And the man is fine, which goes a long way with American voters. They love a pretty POTUS.

“I honestly don’t care about left or right,” I tell him. “I just want things to change, and I don’t care which side does it.”

“Agreed.”

We walk through rows of tulips with color so rich each bulb looks hand-painted. I pick and drop them in my basket along the way, taking a few photos of the flowers, and sneaking a few of Maxim, who looks incongruously big beside the delicate blooms.

“Getting enough?” he asks idly. “Pictures, I mean.”

“I need one of us here together.”

He lifts his head at that, his eyes meeting mine, and a smile fully blooms on his handsome face.

“Miss,” he calls to an older woman a few rows over and down. When she looks back, he turns that dazzling smile on her, and of course in a few seconds she’s headed our way.

“Would you take a picture of me and my . . .” His words falter and he looks as unsure how to fill in that blank as I am. “Would you take a picture of us?”

“Certainly.” She takes his phone and smiles indulgently.

He pulls me in front of him and rests his chin on my head. She snaps the first picture. When I glance up at him, the look in his eyes warms me and melts any reserve I had left. He bends to cup my chin and kisses me tenderly. I hear her snapping the photo, but couldn’t care less. I lean up into that kiss, deepen it, drag it out until she clears her throat.

“Sorry,” he says, offering her an apologetic grin. “Thank you.”

“Anything for young love,” she says wistfully and returns to her basket a few rows away.

Young love. That’s not what we have. It must be too soon for that, but we have something, and it’s making itself at home in my heart more every day, as much as I try to fight it. I try to hold myself back, remind myself that this isn’t permanent, but my heart gives me the finger and goes its own way.

“Hungry?” Maxim asks. “Food?”

“Yes, please.”

After we buy a picnic basket stuffed with wine and cheese and fruit and sandwiches, we walk our bikes down to a riverbank. He spreads the blanket and I lay out our lunch. The sun is high, the weather mild, the air fresh, and the company? Maxim is the only person I want to be here with right now.

“Any more on your politician back home?” he asks, the strong length of him stretched out. He’s propped on one elbow, popping grapes into his mouth.

“When I got back to the hostel this morning, Mena had emailed me some things to look over.” I take a sip of wine from a disposable cup. “The pay is almost non-existent, of course, but it would be great experience. Nighthorse is the real deal. The things he wants to do for Natives in Oklahoma are exactly what I would love to see happen everywhere. I’m impressed.”

“Think you’ll do it?”

“I told her I want to if he’s interested.”

“Oh, he will be. How could he not be?”

“We’ll see.” I shrug. “I’m with you. I can’t stand most politicians. They’re the main ones who lied to Natives. Tricked us. Betrayed us. Our own senator slipped that pipeline in at the eleventh hour for Warren Cade.”

Maxim makes a strangled sound, and when I look over at him, he’s coughing.

“You okay? Wine go down the wrong way?”

“Uh, something like that.” He stares into his cup. “Sorry. You were saying something about—”

“Warren Cade, yeah. He’s such an asshole.” I take a deep breath to counter the fury that rises every time I think about that heartless man. “But of course, he’d look after his own interests. Senator Middleton was supposed to be looking after ours. I’m going to learn this system inside and out and put leaders in place who will look after what’s best for the people.”

“Who determines best, though?” Maxim crumbles a crust of bread on his napkin. “Some would argue what Middleton did created new jobs for his constituents, and that was right.”

He holds up his hands defensively when I aim a baleful look at him. “Hey, just playing devil’s advocate. Don’t shoot me.”

“I know that pipeline created jobs, but it also broke promises the government made to my people. Again. It endangers the water supply for an entire community. And you know what? They declare buildings historically protected so businesses can’t destroy them with new offices or whatever they determine means progress. That’s because someone says the value of that thing is worth more than the revenue destroying it would create. Yet every time something of ours has been declared sacred, it’s desecrated as soon as protecting it inconveniences someone in power.”