“I don’t think you’re gonna find any of the stations come in, baby. It’s satellite radio, and we’re out of range,” Damon reminded him, and Cain leaned back.
“Oh, hey! Then will you stop at the next rest area so I can get a charger for my phone? We can listen to my music.”
“Oh joy.”
“Shush.” Cain whacked him playfully on the arm. “And there’s all that other bullshit I need to deal with, like the fucking ski trip that leftyesterday, which apparently I’m not making.” He sighed gustily. “Probably a good idea for me to check in with my parents, too. I forget where they were heading to campaign this week, but I’m pretty sure they’re headed to DC for the holiday. I should make sure they’re not going to be anywhere near the cabin. Do you mind?”
Damon set his jaw. Yeah, he very much minded the idea that Cain was going to check in with his parents, but he kept his mouth shut. He couldn’t keep the man from his family, no matter how shitty that family might be. When they came upon a sign for a welcome center a few silent miles later, Damon pulled in so Cain could make his purchase.
He came back to the car with the cable, along with a bunch of food and a red baseball hat that he plopped onto Damon’s head.
“What the hell is this?” Damon demanded, taking the hat off his head while Cain messed with the charger, plugging in his phone.
“A souvenir,” Cain said, not meeting his eyes. “They were having a fundraiser to create some new hiking trail, and lots of businesses had tables set up. One of them was this barbecue place.” He cracked open one of the white Styrofoam containers he carried, and the tangy, smoky scent of barbecue filled the car. “They were practically giving the hats away.”
“And you had to get one,why?”
“Because it reminded me of you. It was fate.”
Damon ran his finger over the embroidered design on the front of the cap.Big Daddy’s BBQ.He raised his eyebrow in Cain’s direction, but Cain smiled innocently.
Damon stuck the hat back on his head and reached for a fork. It turned out to be damn good BBQ.
A few minutes later, Cain had tossed the containers into a trash barrel and they were back on the road. Cain played with his phone for a few minutes, and Kings of Leon’sWaste a Momentcame over the speakers.
“Who says you get to pick the music?”
“Uh,youdid. Remember yesterday?Navigator picks the tunes,” Cain sing-songed, punching buttons on his phone. “I’m just obeying your silly rule.”
Damon grabbed the phone from his back pocket and handed it to Cain. “Connect my phone instead.”
In his peripheral vision, he saw Cain cock his head mulishly, like he wanted to argue. Damon pointed to the hat. “Don’t piss Big Daddy off, Cain.”
Cain snorted and tossed Damon’s phone in the center console. “Don’t take the hat literally, dude.”
Damon laughed.
“Fuck,” Cain said softly, looking at his screen. “Guess we just drove back into a patch of cell service. Twelve missed calls from my mother, three from my father, two from Drew. A text from Mrs. Fassbender, who’s looking forward to seeing me Monday, which was actuallytwodays ago. And an email from Gary North.” He sighed, and Damon could practically see the tension charging his frame from one moment to the next. “Guess it was too much to hope the whole world would lose my number, huh?”
But Damon’s attention was caught on one of the names Cain had mentioned. “Gary North?” Damon asked. “Why does that name sound familiar?”
“He’s a reporter.” Cain tapped the phone against his leg. “The one I told you about, who wrote the piece on SILA. My dad wants me to do an interview with him. Some human-interest piece for the fucking campaign.”
Damon’s eyebrows shot up. “The guy who reported on SILA wants to do a piece on your dad.”
“Yeah. And my dad instructed me to agree. Weird, eh?”
It was more than weird, it was downright bizarre, and possibly suspicious. But Damon wasn’t sure whether he should tell Cain his suspicions or not. “When is the interview?” he asked instead.
“At my convenience, or so Gary says. He wants me to set up a time that he can meet with me, either in Boston or wherever we are on the campaign trail. Time and place of my choosing.”
“Sounds eager.”
“Yeah.” Cain thunked his head back against the headrest. “I don’t know how the hell I’m supposed to do this interview without giving something away. This may be my father’s stupidest idea yet.”
“You could always say no,” Damon reminded him.
“Yeah, right.” Cain turned his head without lifting it from the seat. “If it were just the guy wanting the interview, I’d have said no when he first talked to me at the fundraiser. But according to my mom, this is all part of my dad’s strategy. Or something.” He sighed. “Maybe we can do it by phone.”
