Page 10 of The Mogul: Leonard

I take in her pastel pencil skirt paired with a silky white shirt. This is definitely not the woman I remember when I was fourteen years old. But after eight years of not seeing her and another four trying to catch up, I realize we are two different people. Thirteen years ago, Silver and Roxanne didn’t even have the same names. We are two different people in the same skin.

“What are you wearing?” she hugs me with a huge grin plastered on her flawless face.

I look down at my cut-offs and tank top. “What? You don’t like my ‘I don’t give a fuck’ print?”

“I was talking about the sparkly pink Converse, but that tank top is also a concern. I’ll have to explain to my husband’s campaign manager why you’re wearing that in my presence.” She laughs, and I do it too, but inside I cringe about it.

It didn’t occur to me that this could be a problem for her because she and her husband are public figures, and voters don’t like insolent brats.

“If you want, I can turn it inside out,” I suggest, but she waves off my concerns with a smile.

“Not necessary. The old bigots will get over it.” She winks at me, and I see her bodyguard trying to fight a smile.

I’m still not used to her having security following her everywhere. I can’t reconcile that my sweet big sister is a senator’s wife. It’s a wild twist in our life I would have never imagined.

“So, what do you want to eat?” she asks after the silence between us starts to become awkward.

Having your life on hold for eight years, far away from your sister, and then reconnecting as an adult isn’t easy. Sometimes there are these long awkward moments that still remain after four years.

“I’m craving a Philly steak sandwich!” I say, but the truth is that I’m just plain starving. I haven’t eaten since noon yesterday.

She studies me with worried eyes. “Are you eating enough? You look thinner than the last time I saw you.”

“Jesus, you sound like Mom. Yes, I’m eating enough,” I lie, knowing she will try to give me money like she has in the past.

“Well, get used to it because the next time you see her, she’ll ask the same question,” she states matter-of-factly as she walks toward the food court.

The place is bustling with tourists and we draw some attention from some of them. They may wonder what we’re doing together, considering we are polar opposites. Or they’re just curious about the bodyguard. That one is a huge attraction too.

We sit at the counter of the stand, and the guy at the grill double-takes when he sees us. He frowns and then goes back to his food, shaking his head.

“So, why are we here?” I ask after we order.

She frowns, glancing in my direction. “What do you mean? Can’t I invite my little sister to lunch?”

“Not two weeks in a row. You never do that,” I point out, and she seems genuinely confused.

“I didn’t know I had a timeframe to consider before inviting you out.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. I find it strange that you can spend so much time with me. I know your life is a bit hectic.”

Hectic doesn’t even scratch the surface of the number of appointments she has. She was always someone who wanted to do something to help others, but this is ridiculous. Those who say politicians do nothing during the day have no idea what they’re talking about. I’m surprised she has time to sleep.

“But, since you’re asking, there is something I want to tell you.” She smiles shyly.

“Here we go. I knew it!” I laugh.

“Stop it! It’s not like I’m asking much of you.” She gets defensive.

“I know, I know. I was joking.”

She smiles at the girl behind the counter who is delivering our orders, and then waits for her to walk to the next customer before speaking again. I guess she is used to paying attention to her surroundings to avoid someone eavesdropping on her conversation. I can’t even imagine living like that my entire life, scared that someone might use what I say to harm my family.

“We’re going shopping for a party Raphael is hosting,” she spits out in a rush. She knows I’m not too fond of those kind of events.

“No, we are not,” I state resolutely.

“Please. Do it for me? Mom and Dad will be there, and they would love to spend time with you. I know you hate parties, but it would mean a lot if you come with me,” she pleads, and I can see the doubt in her eyes.

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