Page 11 of Not the Plan

“Sharee is younger than I am and is now engaged. I am a poor, lonely, single gal. Naturally the news of her upcoming nuptials would have been so hard for me to take that I might well have become suicidal.”

He snorted. “Of course.”

They stared at the ceiling a few silent moments, Isadora’s chest feeling cold.

“I’ll answer next time,” RJ said. “She wants a man in your bed so bad, let’s give her one.”

“Isn’t it usually the gay man who needs a beard to introduce to his conservative family?” she asked, winking at him. “I’d love to see her face if you did answer my phone in the middle of the night. But I’d rather save my energy for the inevitable battle over moving to D.C. If she’s been this resistant to ‘chief of staff,’ imagine how fun she’ll be about ‘congressional aide.’ ”

RJ snorted.

“Who was the last ex you told her about?” he asked.

“Joel.”

“Why so long ago? Wasn’t he, like, your first year at the senate?”

“Because they ganged up on me, remember? The whole family pressuring me to quit and start making babies.”

“Right. I remember now.”

Good ol’ Mother. Telling the whole family that my dreams are nothing, don’t matter.

“Besides,” she said, shuffling deeper into the sheets. “It doesn’t matter. Emotions are dangerous. They’ll completely derail your dreams if you let them in. I’ve got more important things to worry about than relationships.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Karim

“Good thing I came when I did,” Khalil said. “You look like hell.”

Karim laughed, shook his head, and hugged his brother back.

“Keep telling yourself that,” he said, taking Khalil’s bag and leading him into his new, very empty San Diego apartment. His capitol apartment was set up; now it was time to get settled in the district. “Movers will be here in an hour or so. Need to take a little nap first? Don’t want you to sprain anything, being so out of shape and all.”

Khalil punched him in the shoulder. “What’s this? The California air doing you good? You haven’t begged me to whip your ass like that in months.”

Karim laughed, barely missing Khalil’s arm with his punch back.

“Maybe,” he said. “Been feeling a little more like myself.” Khalil was right, and for a fraction of a second, he wondered if it was the new job, or the new girl haunting his thoughts. Then there was a honk outside: The movers were early.

—

Four hours later, sore and dusty from rearranging the furniture and unpacking the largest boxes, they stopped for lunch. Karim hadn’t had much time to get to know his San Diegoneighborhood, but after a little wandering and disagreeing, they settled on a fusion restaurant next door to an organic grocery store.

“Wow, guess you’re serious, little bro,” Khalil said, studying the folded menu on their table. He’d suggested they sit at one of the small tables in front of the restaurant. Karim wasn’t crazy about eating so close to the street, but Khalil had made an excellent point about enjoying the weather.

“Three minutes, Khalil,” Karim said, as he always did when Khalil brought up which twin was born first. “Serious about what?”

“Still counts,” Khalil said, as always. “Fusion-organic-whatever? I’m not even here a whole day and you’re putting me on a diet?”

Karim rolled his eyes. “Maybe everything isn’t about you. I find I…feel better when I eat better. You could support my efforts to turn over a new leaf,” he said, cleaning his glasses with the hem of his shirt.

“You’re right,” Khalil said. “I should be more supportive. Flying halfway across the country to help you rearrange your furniture. Something like that, huh?” He winked, then looked back at the menu in his hand. “Fine. I’ll drink some green juice or eat an alfalfa salad if it helps keep you in this good of a mood. But I’m not eating fake meat. Sorry.”

A waitress appeared and did the standard-issue double take the twins had gotten their whole lives. Followed by the requisite blush. She took their order and left, but not before Karim caught her glance at Khalil’s ring finger, and at his bare one.

“She was cute,” Khalil said.

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