Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 103819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
His mother had taken over the reins of the family's holdings. At the time, it had been a natural step. She already ran much of their family business during his father's overseas travels. His mom was progressive, one of the most influential women in the world, and stood poised to make her own mark in the worldwide fight for women's rights. Kennedy Adams was really quite untouchable and currently sat aboard a yacht, coasting the Caribbean, technically where Avery figured he should be at this very moment.
Instead, he had opened his new Minnesota law office. His official campaign office would open next week when they made the big announcement. No time for coasting the Caribbean in his near future. These decisions were made. Besides, overall, politics fit him far better than business. Avery had an innate ability of understanding the hardships of the world, reading a situation for what it was and connecting to those involved. For whatever reason, people liked him.
This wasn't a decision forced on him. He'd weighed the options and felt this path would serve him best. Avery wanted this. He wanted to give back to this great country. To help people, and move the United States forward again. It was an honor to be back in Minnesota.
No matter what the outside thermometer read.
He tossed his scarf around his neck and tucked the ends inside his overcoat before he ran his hands through his thick blond hair, pushing one stray piece back in place. No more sunny beaches for him. No more surfing or weekends spent sunning on his boat. Soon, his deep tan would fade and that seemed okay too.
Avery ducked out his front door, bypassed the elevator, and took the stairs down to the main level. Once outside, he let the crisp night breeze take his breath away. He had reservations at La Bella Luna, an Italian restaurant just down the street. It was part of the "be seen" phase of his political run, and apparently La Bella Luna was the current place in town to be seen.
The biting cold had Avery jogging the short distance to the restaurant after deciding a cab might be too girly of a move for the short walk, only a block or so away. A young, good-looking man met him at the front doors. He pushed them open before Avery reached the first step. Recognition hit the man's face, so did the big grin.
"Good evening, Mr. Adams. Can I take your coat?" Avery almost denied him, still freezing from his short stint outside, but the guy was worth the extra minute.
"Thank you, it's still so cold outside," Avery said, accepting the small ticket and giving the greeter a genuine grin as he ran his hands up and down his arms.
"Yes, sir. It'll be another month before we see a real warm up. The maître d' is to your right. I believe you're right on time for your reservation. We didn't know if the name was a coincidence or not. I promise the restaurant's warm and toasty. They placed you close to the fireplace." As the man spoke, he gave off some of those telltale signs he might be interested. The hint was something in the way the guy stared straight back at him, not in any overt mannerism. Just a casual indication, which was the way Avery liked best. He liked his men to be subtly direct.
All of the sudden, this night out was taking a turn in a positive direction. Avery would need to be discreet. Although running in Minnesota was a safe bet, no one in the Democratic Party knew for sure how this would go with Avery being unmarried and his sexuality in question. Hell, it wasn't in question for him. He was gay. But the days of the beach volleyball tournaments turning into all night sexual conquests were over. The new trends in nationwide mass media coverage required his sexual encounters be discreet or be plastered all over the news.
Yet, this greeter, built like a small brick house, was two buildings over from his condo. Why couldn't hot-greeter-guy make a quick stop by Avery's place after he got off work tonight? A quick in and out kind of thing, all under the cover of complete darkness. Avery could see no reason why that wouldn't work just fine for both of them. As the front door opened behind him, Avery gave a knowing wink and moved on to the maître d'. He'd have this all worked out before he left the restaurant tonight, of that he was certain.
Avery looked back over his shoulder as he was taken to his table. The greeter stood there watching him walk away. Good step forward in closing this deal. They made brief eye contact and Avery grinned. A good Italian meal and some hot sex afterward…damn, this was turning out to be a good night after all.
* * * *
"We're turning people away, boss," DeWayne, the maître d' said, pivoting on his heels as Kane passed by with a handful of dirty plates.
"No room anywhere? Are you certain?" Kane whispered back. He never stopped moving toward the kitchen. DeWayne reached out to push open the swinging doors, letting Kane go through first.
"Absolutely, boss." DeWayne stood there as a busboy hurriedly relieved Kane of the dishes.
"Our guests must be lingering. I'll get them moving. What else?" Kane asked, already on the move back out into the restaurant's dining room.
"Just that and the Adams reservation is the real deal." DeWayne grinned at that one, extending his hand for their customary "give 'em five" hand slap. He'd been with the restaurant from the beginning. Now, only a few short years later, they were officially serving the most upper-crust clientele this community had to offer. No one got much higher than the current guest at table thirty-four.
"You're positive?" Kane questioned, coming to a complete stop, letting the door swing back closed in front of him. He only then lifted his hand for a halfhearted slap.