Page 66 of Darling Beasts

“Of course,” Gabby said. “But don’t be so stressed. You’ve got this.” She grabbed Talia by the shoulders, holding her tight, as if trying to stop all the fidgeting. “You’ve got this,” she repeated, staring her dead in the eyes. “You’re Talia fucking Gunn.”

Talia made a face becauseTalia fucking Gunnsounded like something she’d overheard in a high school bathroom, or during her brief inglorious attempt at sorority rush. “Is that a good thing?” she said, and Gabby laughed.

“It’s agreatthing. You’ve worked your ass off, and everything will go perfectly. Now let’s get up to the main house so you can kick ass.”

Chapter Forty-Three

Gabby

Talia was holding her meeting with the mayor out by the pool. Mindy had put out some snacks and a bottle of wine, and hallelujah, because my sister really needed a drink. As pretty as she looked, she seemed jittery, and notably thin, and her eyebrows were an unnatural shade of brown.

“Why am I so anxious?” Talia said, fanning herself. “I’m ninety percent sure I’ll seal the deal. But. Gah! His endorsement could change everything for Dad’s campaign.”

I nodded, pretending to listen when my mind was on Ozzie. Since yesterday’s chat in the yoga studio, I’d been reeling. It was an incomprehensible number of dollars, somehow both massive and distressingly small. An amount beyond most people’s grasp, but for someone like Ozzie, it shouldn’t have been a problem.

On the other hand, my brother’s desperation pulled at my heart, but also? Four hundred thousand was an insane ask, especially now that I knew the truth. He’d turned down three quarters of a million dollars and I felt used.

“I don’t recognize any of those people,” Talia said, about the four staff members stamping across the lawn with their boxed lunches. “And they’re my own volunteers! We’re adding them so quickly I can barely keep track. It’s amazing what the teeniest speck of good news can get a candidate. Die-hard political types are weird.”

“For real,” I said, though wasn’t surprised Talia hadn’t been fully locked in. With her housing commission lawsuit and related side quests, it sometimes felt like Talia was at LASD or the other place (BMW-something) more often than the Ranch.

“We havefivenew volunteers starting this week,” Talia continued as we approached the brick stairs leading up to the pool. “They all need housing. Ustenya’s beside herself, scrambling for somewhere to put them. She’s actually building new space! Who knew we’d run out of room?” Talia let out a high, fluttery laugh. “Not sure what she’ll do with the extra bedrooms when this is all over.”

I blinked and mentally backed up several feet. “Hold on. You know about the construction?”

“I mean, sort of. Ustenya said—”

“Oh, thank God!” I released a long stream of air. I’d been wanting to mention it since Monday morning when I saw the first truck full of wood and asked Mindy what was going on. But Monday became Tuesday, and we crash-landed a balloon, and havoc had reigned ever since. “I was kind of freaked out,” I said, “when I found out what was happening. It was like, uh, anyone tell Talia about this?”

Talia jerked her head toward me and narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Um.” I swallowed. “The renovation of Mom’s art studio? That’s what you were talking about, right?”

Talia stiffened. She opened her mouth for a second before letting go. “Yeah. Totally,” she said, cheeks now red like cute little apples. “Anyway! Time to focus on securing this endorsement.”

We stepped up onto the patio, where a charcuterie board was already laid out, alongside an open bottle of sauvignon blanc. Two chairs were under the table, and two chairs were pushed back as though someone had left in a hurry.

“It always takes longer to get around this place than I think,”Talia said, consulting her watch. “Quinonez has obviously been here.” She gestured to the chairs. “Where did he go?”

“Probably the restroom? Or Mindy gave him a tour of the house? It’s fine.” I placed a hand on her arm. “Remember. The vibe is casual. There is no ‘late’ here.”

Talia nodded, but nervously, which I didn’t know was possible. She circled the table, murmuring about how she had one job, and it was to arrive on time.

“You’ve got this. You understand what Quinonez is about, and you have your trusty notebook of facts and research.” If I said it enough, maybe she’d believe me.

Talia sighed. “That does make me feel better,” she said. “Raj should be here, though. God. What is his deal with the mayor?”

“Who knows,” I said, guessing this was about the ribbon-cutting ceremony and Raj not wanting to be recognized as the skunk guy.

A clamor of voices interrupted my train of thought. It was my brother. And the mayor. Exiting from the back of the house. Ozzie was wearing his dress-up sunglasses, tight white pants, and an even tighter blue polo shirt. A hideous white jacket dangled from his left hand.

“Bobby Q., hear me out,” Ozzie was saying as my stomach plummeted to center earth. “It’s aninvestment.”

“I appreciate the uniqueness of the item,” Quinonez said, “but I can’t imagine what I’d do with it.”

I squinted. Was that...Oh my God.

“OZZIE!” I barked, and both men looked up. The mayor seemed relieved to see me as I bolted over. “I’m sorry if my brother waylaid you, Mayor Quinonez. He’s such a funny guy. Always eager to show off his one-of-a-kind treasures.” My eyes skipped over to the jacket, landing on the blue circle patch with NASA stitched inside. Dear God. Ozzie tried to sell Buzz Aldrin’s Apollo 11 jacket to the mayor of San Diego.

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