“What do you mean, ‘How did I handle it?’” I snort. “I had a complete fucking come-apart in the middle of my office.” I cringe as the memory washes over me, the fury I felt the moment I saw those headlines driving a nail into my skull.
“I can imagine,” Lincoln says, no humor in his voice. “I have to say, I was a little disappointed no punches were thrown.”
I scoff at my little brother, the one that nearly charged the mound last year when a pitcher hit him three times in one game.
“I know you don’t like Nolan. Hell, I’m not sure how much I even like the son of a bitch right now. But I can’t throw punches. I have a real job.”
“Baseball is a real job, asshole. I make more than you do a year. Choke on that.”
I laugh, even though I don’t want to, because Lincoln is right. He makes more than I do doing a job that’s a hell of a lot more fun and less stressful.
“How’d Alison take it?” he asks.
“How do you think she took it?”
“That good, huh?”
Rubbing my temples, I consider refilling my glass with liquor. It would absolutely dull the pain, but it would also mute my ability to think, to process, to plan, and that’s nearly all I have on my side right now. I need to figure a way out of this.
“She’s effectively not talking to me right now,” I say, the words tasting as bitter as I expect them to. “A part of me feels like I need to act, to do something to make this better. It’s what I do. There’s a problem, I fix it. But you know, maybe this life I lead isn’t what’s best for her. I mean, fuck, Linc. My own people put out that article.”
He chuckles under his breath. “The life you lead isn’t the problem, brother. It’s your quote-unquote ‘own people’ that are the issue. I’m not even going to start into a big lecture here on how much I hate Nolan and all the reasons I think he’s poison to you.”
“You’re just mad he told dad you’re the one that wrecked my BMW back in the day,” I grin.
“Yeah because that shows his lack of loyalty! It was none of his fucking business. You and I had it worked out. It would’ve been fixed and that would’ve been the end of it. The cocksucker overhears us talking and snitches like the asshole he is.”
Sighing, I stand and walk over to the island where I left the bottle of bourbon. I pour a little into my glass and swirl it around while I consider Lincoln’s words.
“I’m days from this election. If I weren’t, I would’ve fired him today.”
“You should’ve fired him today.”
I groan. “We’ve been working on this campaign for years, Linc. There are so many people’s jobs riding on the line.” Sighing, I slump against the counter. “I was reading him the riot act today, and Dad shoved me out of the room and told me to calm down.”
Taking another swig of the liquor, I feel the burn as it trickles down my throat. “If I fire him now, my chances of losing this election triple. Maybe quadruple. So much time and money have been spent that I can’t just blow it now because I’m pissed off. Those people have families to feed, bills to pay. That’s not fair to anyone.”
“It’s fair to you. You gotta stand up for yourself, man.”
“I did,” I sigh. “I’ve done everything I can.”
“Welp,” Lincoln says, “if that’s the case, have you done everything you can to tell Ali that?”
“Ali? You’re on a nickname basis with my girl now?”
r /> “Hey, she likes me. Probably better than you right now!”
“Go to hell.” A pang of jealousy that their relationship is so easy taps my heart.
The line grows quiet, both of us trying to get some kind of game plan together. The problem is that neither of us plan as well as Graham, and this isn’t something I can plan with my logical brother. I’m closest to Graham, but when you need someone to plan shenanigans, you have to go to Linc.
“You know, I’ve never understood why you like politics,” Lincoln says.
“I’m not sure why I do right now either.”
“Is it what you want to do? Do you want this life, worrying about what everyone says about you, picking you apart, going after your girl?”
Sitting back at the table again, I think about how many times I’ve asked myself that very question over the last few days.