Eyes Wide Open

fifteen

I tried my best to pretend to be my old self for the next few days so that my parents wouldn't get suspicious. I caught up on homework, actually went to all of my classes, and only thought about Dash every 10 minutes instead of 10 seconds.

During lunch, Dash and I talked about my meeting with Harrison Caldwell. He was prepping me, which wasn't particularly helpful considering he knew nothing about my world.

"Does he have bodyguards?" Dash asked me. "You won't be in a room alone, right? People watching?"

I snorted at that. "He's not the president, Dash. And he's a family friend, so it should be pretty lowkey."

"Nothing about this is lowkey," he shot back at me. "What do you think is gonna happen if he notices a bunch of his shit is gone right after you coincidentally show up? You'd be his first suspect!"

"He's not the police," I said. "Say he does suspect me. He can't do anything without proof. And you're here to make sure this doesn't trace back to us."

Dash decided to case Caldwell's house. It was pretty easy to find his address on the internet, and his giant mansion wasn't exactly subtle. It screamed old money, too much money to know what to do with.

So, as Wednesday rolled around, Dash was doing his best to figure out what the security at the house was like as I prepped what I'd say to Caldwell.

As I got ready for the meeting with Caldwell, including putting on a pantsuit that would put Hillary Clinton to shame, I couldn't help but feel nervous. It wasn't the usual kind of nerves, though, like the kind you get before a big test or an interview. This was something deeper, more insidious, like the feeling you get when you know you're about to do something you can't take back.

My parents were thrilled, of course. My mom kept gushing about how proud she was that I was "taking initiative." My dad even took the afternoon off to drive me to Caldwell's office downtown. I kept up the facade, nodding and smiling as if I were just another ambitious kid with big dreams.

As my dad and I walked through the polished halls of Caldwell's office building, I tried to focus on the plan. I had spent the last couple of days researching the senator, trying to find out as much as I could. He wasn't just a state senator—he was well-connected, with ties to various business interests and investments that had made him very wealthy.

But my goal that day wasn't just to charm the senator with my supposed interest in politics. I needed to gather information, anything that could help Dash and me pull this off.

"Remember, be polite, and listen more than you speak," my dad told me as we reached the office door. "This is a great opportunity, Blake. Don't waste it."

I forced a smile. "I won't."

We checked in with a receptionist and waited outside Caldwell's office. Just as I thought I was about to start spiraling from my nerves and give up on the whole thing altogether, Caldwell emerged from his office.

He was in his mid-forties, tall and fit, with a full head of hair that was turning silver, and an air of confidence that came with years of wielding power over the masses. The only word that came to my mind was zaddy, and I immediately wanted to hit myself.

"Sorry about that," Caldwell said with an apologetic smile. "Come on in, guys."

My dad and I followed him into his office.

"Blake, it's a pleasure to meet you," he said, extending his hand.

I shook it, trying to mirror his firm grip. "Thank you for taking the time to speak with me, Senator."