I, Porn Star(26)

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“Yes, I do.”

I give a carefree, accommodating shrug. “No problem. Just get your campaign manager to liaise with my EA. I’ll make sure we work something out.”

His mouth goes slack for a second. Then he gives a brisk nod. “I appreciate it, son. I thought this would be yet another battle with you. Although I’m still far from thrilled about the Miami thing—”

“The Miami thing is done. There’s no going back. Unless you want to look weak?” I taunt.

Fury washes over his face but the seductive allure of power dilutes it. “Fine. But I want your undivided attention on this campaign when I need it.”

My gaze skates over his shoulder to fix on a skyscraper in the distance. “Of course. This is important to you. I get that,” I lie.

He pauses for a moment. Then, “Thank you, son.”

I look into his eyes and the words trip smoothly off my tongue. “Not at all. Your second term as Governor of New York will be a memorable one for the Blackwood name. I’ll make sure of it.”

His sigh of relief echoes in my ear as I walk out and pass the generations of Blackwood portraits decorating the hallway.

The first one dates back to the Mayflower. My steps slow and I look up at the painting of Ichabod Blackwood. He wears the same arrogant pride I see on my father’s face. I smile at the portrait, revel in the stern admonishing in Ichabod’s gaze.

“Take a good look, old man. This train is never going to make it back to the station. Your line is going to end with me.”

I salute the portrait and walk out of my father’s house.





9



RECALL



Lucky



When I round the corner of the block where my motel is located, my practiced stance of head-down-body-hunched is fully in place, so I don’t see the brewing commotion until I almost trip over it.

“What the hell do you mean, I gotta leave?” A half-dressed guest is shouting at the manager.

“I don’t know how else to explain it to you, mister. Department of Health says I have to shut down immediately, so yeah, you and every guest here need to pack up your shit and leave. The inspector is coming back in an hour. With new locks.”

An icy rock drops into my gut. My feet freeze on the uneven parking lot tarmac as I absorb the words.

“Bullshit! I’ve been staying in this shit hole for years because my company is too cheap to put me up in a better motel when I come into town for business. I’m more than familiar with your complimentary rodent-per-room standards. So what’s changed? And since when does the DOH turf people out after hours?”

The manager shrugs. “Fuck if I know. Look, I’m just the manager, okay? I follow orders from on high, just like you do, so quit busting my balls.”

“Dammit! So what am I supposed to do?”

“Hell, I don’t know, find another place to stay and expense it?”

“Fuck you! I want a full refund, buddy, and I want to be compensated for the inconvenience. Or I ain’t leaving.”

The manager scratches his beer belly. “I can only refund seventy-five per cent of the remaining rate of your stay. You’ll need to take up any further claims with the parent company.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” The guest is growing redder in the face.

The manager, who doesn’t seem one little bit upset by the gathering crowd of disgruntled guests, shrugs. “Nope. Everything I’ve said is in the small print. Feel free to read it. Present your booking receipt when you check out and you’ll be given what you’re due.” He takes a step back and addresses the crowd. “That’ll be all, folks. Remember, the guys with locks will be here in an hour. If you ain’t outta here, you’ll be tossed out.”#p#分页标题#e#

“Yeah, try it and I’ll sue the pants off you,” One guest, an ageing woman with pink curlers in her hair, points an arthritic finger at the manager.

“I’m just doing my job, but go ahead, give it your best shot, lady,” he sneers.

A few other patrons voice their anger, but the manager shrugs it off. I wait till he’s heading back to his office before I sprint out from where I’ve been standing next to a banged up Corolla.

“Excuse me, sir?”

He stops and glances over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“I don’t know if you remember me—”

“Sure, I remember you.” His gaze slides over me. I pull my backpack across my body. He sees the action and his expression sours. “What do you want?”

“I paid you two hundred dollars this morning. To cover my stay till the end of the week?”