Page 93 of Old Money
“Alice, I—”
“No, Jamie, you weren’t wrong.” I wave his apologetic face off. “A good story isn’t enough. You need a reason to make people believe it.”
Jamie turns forward and squints at the vivid sun, melting into a Popsicle-pink puddle on the horizon.
“Your call, Scarface. I’d say you’re solid though.”
He looks over with a half smile, and a jittery delight bounces in my stomach.
“And if you get the incident report?” Jamie looks forward again, but his smile holds. “You’re golden.”
“I think we’ve pretty much killed that plan,” I say, reaching for my iced tea. “That plan requires both of us still having jobs here in two weeks. How long until Brody gets us booted?”
“Brody’s a dead man walking,” says Jamie. “He’s not going to have much pull with the board once his big speech runs in thePostor wherever. We might be out too, but he’ll be out first.”
I sit back, taking in the deepening sunset, thinking all this through.
“It really hasn’t hit you yet?” asks Jamie. “Alice, you did it. It’s check, and they have no moves.”
I blink at him.
“Sorry, I switched from dominoes to chess.”
“I thought it was checkmate in chess?”
“Yeah, no, but first it’s check. Checkmate’s when they realize, or— Hey, can you just let me have this one?”
“No, Jamie.Pleaseexplain chess to me.”
He looks back with a friendly glare.
“My point is it’s inevitable now. You’ll win.”
“ThePostthough? You really think I should go to them with this?”
“I think,” Jamie says slowly, “you should give it toThe Club Kid. Let them play it on the podcast, start to finish. No edits. That’s what I’d do, anyway. But go anywhere you want with it. Like I said, you already won.”
The sunset shifts into its final act, shooting blinding golden rays across the valley.
“Another ridiculous idea,” I reply, smiling.
“My specialty.”
“I’ll sleep on it,” I say. “I don’t think I’m in a fit state to make decisions like that now. And you—”
Jamie leans over, his face a shadow in the melting daylight—but I can see his smile when I lift my head and close the gap between us. I feel it linger for a second when our lips meet. I worry for a moment that I’ll giggle. (Am I kissing Jamie Burger on the hill?) But then the thought evaporates, and I’m not worried about anything.
The light’s turned dusky when I open my eyes. Jamie pulls back a few inches, picking up the conversation where we left off.
“Yeah, I’m beat too,” he says, low and serious. “I’ve really got to head home.”
“Oh.” I sit upright, disoriented. “Okay. Yeah, let’s—”
“Alice,” he says in that same serious tone.
I wrench my eyes back up to his face. He kisses me again, and then looks at me with a lopsided grin.
“You drove us here.”
