“So you think I was going to start with her banging body?”
“Absolutely.”
“Well, you’d be wrong. I was going to start with her smile.”
“Her smile?” Graham balks. “What the fuck have you done with my brother?”
“Funny,” I say, rolling my eyes. “She’s into kids. She coordinates events and shit at the hospital where I get therapy. That’s all I really know about her. That and she has a disdain for athletes, baseball specifically. She won’t open up to me much.”
Graham’s tongue clicks off the roof of his mouth as he dissects that information. His chair squeaks in the background again, the sound of something tapping distant.
My feet move, walking a circle on the navy blue wool rug on the floor. I watch the impressions my bare feet make into the runner, trying to find some rhythm in my steps.
“You’re a family guy. So if she likes kids, she’ll probably be drawn to that,” Graham says finally. “Is she close with her family?”
“No, actually. Her father is a cocksucker and her mother is pretty much a dick too, I think.”
“Even better.”
“G, there’s nothing good about that.”
“Okay, let’s do this.” He’s standing, I can hear it in the increased tempo of his voice. He has so many of Dad’s mannerisms and that’s one. “This is going to sound crazy . . .”
“We’re off to a good start,” I joke.
“Women love seeing a man with kids. Especially this one, I bet.”
“But she’s already seen me with kids. I’ve painted with them at the hospital. This is not new information.”
Graham laughs. “Do you trust me or not?”
“Go on.”
“Okay,” he says, warning me not to interrupt again. “We need to tweak your image, much like we had to do with Barrett during the election. We need her to see more to you than just a baseball player that wants to fuck her senseless.”
“Yes. I. Fucking. Do.”
“Here’s what you do.” He stops himself and snorts, mumbling under his breath, “I can’t believe I’m even suggesting this.”
“Suggest it,” I demand.
“Use Huxley.”
“What?”
I’m sure I’m not hearing him right. Use my brother’s girlfriend’s kid? Is that even moral? I laugh out loud. Do I even care? No. No, I do not.
“Use Hux,” he repeats, obviously as amazed by his suggestion as I am. “Think about it. You can show her you’re a well-rounded guy, one that’s responsible and capable of solid relationships with those you care about. It’s different than the kids from the hospital because she could possibly think that’s an act. But if you have Huxley, that’s different. That’s a piece of who you are outside of anything she is. Get it?”
“Yeah. I get it,” I say, mulling this over.
“Barrett is on his way to Tennessee anyway, I think.”
The beauty of the plan glitters in front of me like a well-timed curveball. If you can just get a hold of it, you can hit a homerun. And this particular homerun might feel even better than hitting one out of the ballpark.
“Graham, you’re a genius.”
“Glad I could be of service. Just do me a favor, okay?”