Page 73 of Executive Decision

“Mother, what Chloe does is up to Chloe.”

“You didn’t arrange this?”

“I cannot tell Chloe what to do, Mom. Honestly. She is out there protesting and engaging with people her age. While her politics and mine align, I have not coached her or asked her. She has not talked to me. You know how she is. I know more about her life on social media than I do from anything she says to me.”

“I hate that part,” Mom said.

“Chloe is her own woman. I am not getting involved. I don’t even havetime,Mom. I’m headed to a charity event.”

We were deep in the middle of a days-long protest hoping to smoke out our police chief while watching people tie up Lakeshore Drive in a fit of rage. Deep down, it pleased me to see people like Chloe—privileged people who could otherwise ignore these problems—were out walking with protestors who felt their lives were at risk daily. Citizen protests were the only way I saw my administration’s path changing in its relationship with law enforcement. To date, the protests had been organized and largely nonviolent, but something had to give. Everyone felt the tension.

“Fine. But I don’t like it.”

I rolled my eyes.

Jo stood before me; arms folded in annoyance. I was running late.

“I gotta go.”

“Don’t get hurt,” Mom said.

“I am a big boy. I can handle it.”

I hung up, tucking my phone in a tuxedo jacket pocket.

“You know, I’m all dressed up, looking like a million bucks, and waiting on your ass to get off the phone,” Jo said.

“I know. My mother is panicked over Chloe. And yes, you clean up nice.”

“That girl is pigheaded, but she’s right,” Jo said as we boarded the elevator. “Doesn’t your mother want to be on the right side of it?”

“She doesn’t want her friends bothered because Chloe stands for something.”

“You ran a reform campaign and were always surrounded by Black folks. I’m not sure what else there is to say. Did she forget about that?”

I snickered. “Mom gave up on me being chill long ago, but we’re different. Chloe is her precious angel baby who had everything from day one. I had to be tough. She wants Chloe to have it easy. Yes, there is some implicit bias there, but Mom’s main point is, why fight so hard when I ran so you could walk? And why not make money with all that privilege?”

“Must be nice to be a rich white lady.”

“It’s easy,” I admitted. “To be white, I mean. Now, what do I need to know about this event?”

“Alderman Lewis sees this as the crowning jewel of his summer, Cal. The charity raises money for summer camp, but it’s his pet project. Make an effort. Write a check. Make nice with organizers. It’s the same game it always is.”

I zoned out, going to my Making Nice place. Deep down, I wanted to refresh my browser nonstop to see if the union or chief had news. I wanted him to step down. It’s what the community needed. It’s also whatIpolitically required to get the council to change the appointment rules. Despite the stress, this was a convenient way to press my agenda.

We arrived at the venue for the banquet shortly after it began. I was never early—always late, but not in a rude way. I gave good face—something David taught me. He thrived on social interaction and I always led with that. We had been so alike in that way. Danna could be an ice queen, but David had to be personable. I never understood how it worked. It justdid. I wondered if I would ever have someone in my corner to settle me as she did.

As we entered, I spotted Daphne at the bar. I knew her wild blonde hair a mile away. She left it down, as I liked it. I approached, ignoring Jo’s pleas to beeline it to the host and I spotted a bejeweled clip she’d used to tuck hair behind her ear. The urge to kiss her and pull the hair at the base of her head overcame me. I smelled her perfume before she saw me—floral and sweet. She was sexy as hell in a pink gown that accentuated her round, firm ass.

“Hi,” I said. “You’re here.”

“I came with Mum,” Daphne answered. “She said she was lonely. I’m trying to be supportive. Of course, she’s ditched me for a friend.”

I chuckled. “That’s how I always feel escorting my mother or sister anywhere.”

“Well, I am glad to see you,” I spotted Jo’s annoying waves from the left of Daphne’s head.

“I’m… I’ll be back. I’m sorry. Jo is about to land a fucking plane over there. I have to go see the alderman.”

---