Jason looked impressed, maybe even a little awed. “That’s a bold stance. Some might say it’s dangerous.”
I waved him off. “The people of Boston deserve leaders who are’t afraid to do what’s right.”
“That’s…respectable,” he said, though I could tell there was something else on his mind. “One last question: you have a young child, which some see as a detriment for a career as difficult as DA. What do you say to that?”
I hesitated, the answer not as immediate or practiced as the others. My mind flickered to Julian’s words earlier, to Alek’s more recent ones, to the countless nights spent working late and missing bedtime stories with Rosie.
To the night I’d found out I was pregnant with Kieran Callahan’s baby.
I cleared my throat, stalling for time as a dozen possible answers raced through my head. This was the kind of question that could sink a candidate if not handled with the right mix of honesty and spin.
“I say that’s straight up misogyny. You wouldn’t pose this question to a man.”
Jason stammered, but I held my hand up to keep talking.
“We all have lives that are complex and sometimes messy,” I began, choosing my words carefully. “The important thing is to strive for integrity in every situation, even when it’s difficult. I hold myself to the same standards that I hold others to, and I believe that the choices I’ve made—both personal and professional—reflect that. I will be an example for my daughter, Jason. This is the best way to do that.”
Jason opened his mouth, perhaps to probe further, but Alek was next to me, his hand raised. “That’s all she has time for now,” he said. “Thank you, Jason.”
Jason muttered his thanks and shuffled away, already lost in his notes. I turned to Alek, who held out a glass of champagne. He clinked his own against the one he’d just replaced my sparkling water with.
“To making it through alive,” he said, though his eyes were still serious.
I took a sip, the bubbles biting at my lips. “Do you think he bought it?”
“Jason? Maybe. You’re usually more convincing.”
I sighed, the weight of the night starting to crush down on me. “I need to be more than convincing, Alek. I need to be bulletproof.”
“You need to be human,” he countered. “People relate to that.”
I drained the rest of my glass, wishing it were something stronger. “Human is messy. Human loses elections.”
Alek didn’t respond, just gave me that look—the one that said he understood more than he let on.
“Let’s get some air,” he said.
We wove through the crowd, Alek skillfully deflecting the occasional attempt to draw me into another conversation. The balcony doors swung open with a push, and the cool night air rushed in, a stark contrast to the stuffy warmth of the ballroom.
I stepped out onto the balcony and breathed deeply, the cityscape of Boston stretching out below us like a glittering quilt. The sounds of horns and distant shouts mixed with the muffled hum of the gala behind us. For a moment, it all felt manageable.
Alek leaned on the railing beside me, his tall frame casting a long shadow in the city lights. “Remember when we used to sneak up here during law school events?”
I smiled despite myself. “How could I forget? You always thought someone was going to catch us and kick us out.”
“I was just being cautious,” he scoffed. “We had reputations to protect.”
“We weren’t even hooking up. We were just gossiping and smoking weed.”
“You have never smoked weed, Future District Attorney Marquez,” he said.
I laughed. “Right.”
A comfortable silence settled between us, the kind that only long-time friends could share. Alek and I had a history; we understood each other’s ambitions, fears, and compromises. Sometimes I wondered if we’d ruined something by never taking that next step, but there had never been a spark there. He was objectively handsome, charming, smart. And yet, my relationship with him could be compared to that of a bar of soap.
I needed him, but I didn’t think about him that way.
No…I liked my men a little more toxic. A little more dangerous.