Read Private Politics (The Easy Part) for Free Online

thinking, Alyse broke out the innocent face she’d been practicing. “Oh, you know, nothing too weird. Just some amateur-looking websites.” Geri had stilled now. She hadn’t blinked in at least five seconds. That couldn’t be healthy.
    Alyse forced out an airy laugh, waved her hand in the air and then stopped abruptly. The gesture felt so awkward. Did she normally do things like that with her hands? She dropped the hand to her side, but it felt heavy and...obvious. How the hell did she hold her arms normally?
    Geri still stared at her so Alyse filled the silence. “It’s just weird, don’t you think, that our corporate giving has increased so much?”
    Okay,
so
not the right thing to say. That was going to increase, not release, the tension between them. There was no taking it back now, however. Several beats of silence ticked by during which Alyse grew more self-conscious. She really should have sat down; maybe then she would have known what to do with her body.
    At last, Geri exhaled. With a detached smile, her boss said, “I’m certain it’s because of your great fundraisers.”
    Everyone was always saying things like that and it was true: her fundraisers were great. But whenever Geri joined in, it seemed insincere—the verbal equivalent of a pinch on the cheek or a pat on the hand. Sweet condescension.
    “Thanks. I’m sure you’re right.” The words stung her mouth as she accepted the stupid non-compliment. Accepted all the low judgments Geri had of her. She felt dirty. Like she’d walked home in late August and needed a second shower. What she needed now was an exit strategy.
    “Look, I really stopped in because I’m going to get a coffee. Do you want something?”
    “No, thanks.”
    As Alyse turned to go, Geri said to her back, “I wouldn’t worry too much about the receipt letters, honey. Just make sure the tablecloths don’t clash at the event next month.”
    Okay, so once,
once
she’d made a big deal about renting linens for an event because everyone knew that the basic runners at the Westin didn’t fall all the way to the floor. Three years later, no one would let it go. Because heaven forbid they should put together a professional event when they were asking people for their money.
    No, “whimsical” would be an adjective people would apply to her. Not serious. Not smart. Not insightful. Which was why she was the only person who’d noticed that someone was laundering money through YWR’s books.
    Maybe people should start coming to her for non-clothing-related emergencies. She might have spent the better part of a decade styling herself as a keeper of frivolous knowledge, but did that mean she’d missed her chance to develop any more tools for dealing with the world? Was sweet and shallow party girl really her only way of being in the world?
    Her heels clicked out a tattoo of aggravation on the floor as she flew over to her desk and grabbed her purse and coat. No matter—the plan had worked. She’d learned that Geri was nervous but also that she didn’t think she had any reason to worry. Except Alyse did, because everyone thought she was an idiot.
    She jogged down the stairs, pushing outside a few flights later. They were in that weird season between winter and spring when the sun never came out on the East Coast. The sky was unrelentingly stony for months at time, so of course she would have a personal crisis now: pathetic fallacy her ass. She dug out her phone and searched for Liam’s number.
    When he answered on the second ring she asked, “Where are you?”
    She’d been trying to figure out if he was free to talk, but it turned out he was in a coffee shop three blocks from her office. Rather than discussing things over the phone, she offered to join him.
    A few minutes later, she located Liam. He had tossed himself into a deep purple armchair and his hands flew over the keyboard of the laptop balanced on his knees. It should have looked precarious, but it didn’t. He had