Image by Mystic Art Design from Pixabay
This was more Betty's style rather than mine really... It's too bad father had already judged her based on her health condition..
I inwardly grimaced as I kept up the genial smile that was expected of campaigning politicians like myself, finishing yet another story session for the children here at Gatsburg's Town Library.
With a town this small mostly consisting of family-oriented voters, my PR team made to come up with a maternal side to my image—despite my being single. It was a good way to make me look more approachable, they had said, and not just another former politician's child trying to win back political power into the family.
I almost scoffed out loud at how they were almost close to the truth. Almost.
Keeping up the genial facade, I let my assistant prattle on about my campaign schedule for the next following days, even though I'd rather study the schedule myself on the way home— the resounding quietness of my room proving to be more tolerable than this political sham.
“It's an honor to have you here, Ms. Grainger.”
Despite the constant buzz of activity going on around me as we headed for the exit, I still managed to catch the clear voice that spoke up.
“Cole.” I stopped abruptly in my tracks, causing a ripple of commotion amongst my team. I had to momentarily step away from them to have a moment of peace, “It's been a while since the Station, no?” I steadily approached her, like a predator slinking towards her prey—she would be an easier pawn than that mock-up psychic...
“You've obviously been busy..” Her almost enigmatic smile had me following her gaze as she glanced at something towards her side, making me finally lay my eyes on the notorious painting that crazy, old Jeffrey Cross was babbling on about at his bar.
“I see you've still got that in your hands..?” I gestured in question towards the “Portrait of the Lady”.
“The admin's actually going for my throat about it...” A sigh came from her, like a silent call for help, but which made all the pieces fall into my favor.
“How about a proposition then, Cole?” I waited in baited breath just before her slate-gray eyes focused on me, I grinned, “For old time's sake.” Hook, line and sinker.