Page 72 of The Press Secretary's Passion
“Hello?” I answer.
“Hey, sis,” Gil says. “I’m in town again. Want to catch lunch with your big brother?”
“I would love that!” I tell him. And I would. I breathe a sigh of relief that we can move on from here. I love my brother and I don’t like fighting with him. It’s rare that we disagree. Mostly, we’re just vastly different people with a huge age gap between us. There was never anything like toys or treats to tangle over because he was mostly grown by the time I came along. I don’t like that he’s taken our mother’s side, but I also know that I can just avoid the conflict until it goes away. Eventually, the media will give up and they will have to as well. I just have to smile and nod my head and then wait them out.
“I’ll pick you up in thirty minutes.”
“Sounds good,” I reply. “I’ll be ready when you get here.”
“See you then,” he says and disconnects.
I jump up and race upstairs. I brush out my hair and twist it into a messy ballet bun and then swipe on some soft makeup, because it would not please my mother to see photos of us and I look like hot garbage. I pull on dark skinny jeans, a blush-pink draped chiffon tank, and a winter-white blazer. I put on my signature jewelry and step into my bone-colored Louboutins.
I’m just walking back down the stairs when there is a knock at the front door. I pull open the door, and Gil is standing on my front porch.
“Ready to go?” he asks me with an easy smile on his face.
“Absolutely,” I reply and lean in to give him a hug.
“Great,” he says. “There’s this new place I’m dying to try.”
“I’m sure it’ll be good,” I tell him as I lock my front door and head down the walk. I climb in the front seat of his car and buckle my seatbelt. And all the while, I just feel like something is… off.
I brush it off as our having not cleared the air yet since our last dinner. He drives farther and farther away from the city and into a part of town I’ve never been before. In fact, it doesn’t look so great.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“It’s just a little bit farther,” he tells me, but he keeps his eyes pinned on the road and doesn’t look at me. “We’re almost there.”
“But where is there?” I ask as he pulls up to an old warehouse. Maybe it’s some kind of new popup restaurant. I hear those are all the rage lately.
“Change of plans,” Gil says as he reaches for something in the pocket of his door.
“What’s that?” I ask, but then he’s moving faster than I’ve ever seen him move before, and I yelp as the needle pierces my neck.
“You should have done what you were told,” he snarls, and his face changes to a look of rage that I’ve never seen on him.
The last words I say to my brother before everything goes black are, “I trusted you.”
Never will I make that mistake again.
Probably because I’ll be dead.
"Funeral Plans are Pending"
Chapter 22
Mistakes
Ryan
“Everything all right, Dad?” my son asks, and I have the sinking feeling that everything is not all right.
“I don’t know,” I hedge, not wanting to upset my kids. I tried to call Jules to see if she wanted me to bring her a sandwich home from this little deli I know she likes. But no matter how many times I try to call her, she doesn’t answer.
I hang up and try another number. Rick answers immediately.
“Hey, man, what’s up?” he asks.
