The Kingmaker (All the King's Men, #1)(24)

“Very funny,” Owen returns, a smile in his voice. “That’s not in the plan for another ten years. Maybe by then you’ll have something to show for yourself and can help me win.”

“Oh, I’ll have something to show for myself alright. Whether or not I help you depends entirely on who’s pulling your strings.”

“The people pull my strings, Max.”

A bark of laughter erupts from me immediately. “Damn, O, there’s no cameras rolling. Save the poll-tested lines for your next speech.”

“It’s not a line. I want to do what’s in the best interest of my constituents.”

“So where do you stand on fossil fuels? I mean, given that you used to work for an oil company, I think I know.”

“Let’s just say my views are evolving. I represent California so there’s a demand for more clean energy legislation.”

“Good luck convincing the public you aren’t in our father’s pocket on oil when you can’t even convince your own brother.”

“I’ve got time to figure it out. In the meantime, back to our mother.”

“She’s okay?” I ask, tensed for his answer.

“Her birthday’s next week.”

“I know.” I clear my throat. “I’ll be . . . away.”

“You mean in Antarctica?”

“How do you know that?”

“Do you really think our father doesn’t know where you are and what you’re doing?” Owen asks softly. “At all times?”

“Why does he care what I’m doing with my life? All he needs to know is I’ll never work for Cade Energy as long as it’s built on antiquated ideas and fossil fuels. I mean fossil fuels? Even the name says old.”

Owen’s low laughter at my joke makes me smile. “I have no idea how you were raised by Warren Cade and grew up to be a tree hugger.”

I roll my eyes at the phrase, but don’t deny it. “If you really love your country,” I say instead, “you’ll start hugging some trees, too. And if you do plan to lead the free world, you should get a wife. Americans want bachelor reality shows, not bachelor presidents.”

“I’ve got someone in mind, but I’m still sowing a few wild oats like you are.”

“A future president is only allowed so many wild oats, and I’m not sowing wild oats.”

“You’re in Amsterdam, Max,” Owen says wryly. “The red-light district holds some fond memories. I know how wild it gets. You’ve probably got a new girl every night.”

“There’s only one girl who interests me right now.”

The silence following my statement holds so much shock, I’m immediately kicking myself for saying anything. I don’t know why I did. Maybe it’s a longing for the camaraderie we lost—the easy fraternalism we used to share.

“Wait. There’s a girl?” Owen asks. “I’m sure Dad doesn’t know that. If there’s one thing he wants to control almost as much as our careers, it’s who we marry.”

“First of all, that’s your life he’s controlling, not mine. Second of all, who said anything about marry? I just said there’s a girl who interests me. I’m not settling down until certain benchmarks are met.”

“There’s things a girl has to do before you’ll settle down?”

“No, there’s certain things I have to do before I settle down. I can’t afford distractions. I got too much shit to do.”

“But this girl is an exception?” The interest in his voice irritates me.

“She’s exceptional.” I pause a moment before going on. “Did Dad ever tell you about that day we fought? The protest in Arizona?”

“Just that you tried to manipulate him to get the pipeline re-routed.” If I didn’t know better, I’d think that was admiration in Owen’s voice.

“Manipulate.” I huff a harsh laugh. “I tried to get him to do what was right, but of course, principles are negotiable with him. It’s an old argument that I don’t want to have with you. There was a girl there. One of the protesters.”

“You fucked her?”

The bald question pinches a frown between my eyebrows. “She was seventeen and I was a graduate student, Owen. No, I did not fuck her. Jesus.”

“But you wanted to,” Owen says with wicked insight.

“Anyway,” I bulldoze over the innuendo in his voice, “she’s here. It’s been like four years and by some crazy coincidence, she’s here in Amsterdam.”

“So now you want to fuck her.”

God, so badly.

I forbid the words from leaving my mouth.

“I want to get to know her. I’m not doing relationships or anything like that. After Antarctica, it’s the Amazon. Then after that, we’ll see, but I can’t do the strain of a long-distance relationship.”

“I can’t say that anyone has left the kind of impression on me that this girl has left on you.”

“I didn’t say she left an impression.”

“This is me, Max. I’ve known you since before you knew yourself. I hear impression all in your voice.”

“Whatever.”

“I’m saying maybe she’s not a wild oat,” Owen offers. “Maybe she’s a wild dream.”