Chapter 61

When I arrive at the location Lila gave me on the note, I find myself standing outside an abandoned building with the windows boarded up. Distantly, I hear the sound of sirens. This isn’t the best part of town, but I knew that before coming here.

Yet, looking at the building and glancing all around, I can’t see anything particularly damning about this scene. Is it tragic that a previously nice part of town has been hit with enough strife to be brought low as it is? Yes.

But this very topic was just covered in a front-page expose just last month, by one of Harbinger’s competitors. It made such a call for action, that politicians have promised to pour money into fixing up the area.

That hadn’t yet manifested, obviously. Is that what Lila wanted me to cover? No.

It has only been a few weeks since the money was promised. Nothing in bureaucracy moved that fast. It would take time to make sure the money went into the right people’s hands, and then for those hands to make a noticeable difference.

Maybe I am to look inside the building? But the windows are boarded up. If I want to get in, I have to break in. I’d rather not have those sirens coming for me.

Sighing, I back away from the building. More and more, I feel like my initial hunch was correct, and Lila sent me here just to waste my time.

Pulling out my phone, I attempt to order myself a taxi, but since I’m in a mostly abandoned part of town, the nearest taxi is a twenty minute drive for me.

Great.

I look up and down the road, wondering if I should start walking.

Across the street is a smallish tavern. It’s painted nicely despite the broken down buildings surrounding it. Large windows line the front. They have bars protecting them, but within, the tavern is brightly lit and there are people.

One person sitting hear a window, his face turned to the side, catches my attention.

That looks a hell of a lot like Miles.

But what would Miles be doing in this part of town? The Capital feels like it’s a lifetime away from here.

Crossing the street, I duck into the tavern before I can think of any reason not to.

Inside the game is on, on a television hanging up in one corner. A heavyset man stands behind the long wooden bar, drying a glass with his bar towel. When he spots me, he seems surprised but not alarmed.

On the wall opposite the bar, by the windows, are a series of high tables with chairs to match.

In the far corner, sitting at one of the high tables sits Miles, holding a beer. Each time he brings it to his mouth, I’m not sure he’s actually drinking anything or if he’s just going through the action. He’s half-watching the game but seems mostly lost in thought.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asks, reclaiming my attention.

“Water, please,” I tell him. “I’m sorry. I’m just waiting for my cab. I can order something else…” I feel like a jerk coming in here and not spending any money.

“It’s fine,” the bartender says. He pours me a glass of water from an ice filled pitcher he had nearby. “I figured a girl like you was probably lost. Stay in here if you don’t mind me hollering at the game. Safer in here.”

“Thank you,” I say kindly. “I noticed your bar hasn’t seemed to be affected by the nearby strife…”

“We have a wealthy patron who keeps our lights on,” the bartender says as he slides my glass of water to me across the bar. When I take a sip, he glances at Miles in the corner.

I do, too, and find Miles staring straight back at me. He doesn’t look at all pleased.

Miles drops his beer bottle onto the high table top with a clatter, then stands and comes near me.

“What the hell are you doing here, Esther?”

The bartender looks between us, and then casually walks away. With his back to us, he watches the game on tv. He even turns the sound up.

“I’m here on assignment,” I tell him.

“What assignment?”

In the face of his anger, I wish I had more to show for myself. Truthfully, other than bullying, I can’t think of any reason for Lila to send me here.

“I don’t know,” I admit. “My editor gave me the address of the building across the street and told me there’s a lead there. She wouldn’t tell me anything more.”

“Is that the same editor who was rude to you before?”

“Yes,” I say.

“You shouldn’t be here, especially alone. It isn’t safe.”

“I ordered a cab.” I hold up my phone to show him the app. “It will be here in… fifteen minutes?”

“Good.” That, at least, seems to placate him and some of his anger subsides. “Come sit with me until it gets here.”

I follow Miles back to his table and we both sit down. The chairs are actually very comfortable, soft leather over genuine wood. This is not the sort of thing I would have expected in a place like this. This tavern is full of surprises, likely thanks to the generous patron sitting across from me.

“Why here?” I ask him.

“Why not? It’s a good place, even if the area has seen some hard times. But it’s coming around.”

“How long have you been helping them?” I ask.

“About a month…”

He read the expose then, but instead of waiting on the other bureaucrats, he came here himself to help.

Maybe I found a story after all.

“Will you let me right about this?” I ask.

Miles looks at me a moment, then away.

He’s acting different than usual. More… deflated than I’m used to seeing him.

“Miles? Are you okay?”

Miles glances back at me. “Off the record?”

“Of course,” I say. Miles is a major headline-grabber, but before that he’s my… well… my something. A friend, at least. A friend with benefits, maybe.

Miles sighs. “My presidential bid hasn’t been as popular with my peers as it has with the public.”

“You’re getting pushback?”

“From all sides,” Miles says. “Even my own father called me to tell me he thinks it’s too soon.”

I pause a moment, thinking. “Are you going to back out?”

“No,” he says immediately, sitting up straighter. Some fight flickers to life in his eyes. “I am not backing down just because others think I will fail. I won’t fail, Esther. I’m going to become president and make this nation better for every single person in it.”

“Good,” I say, which surprises him. He looks at me as if seeing me for the first time. “If you were thinking of backing out, I’d have to shake some sense into you. You might be young, but you are passionate, Miles. You are smart, and you’re charismatic, and you care. You really care about all of this. I can see it, even just in what you are doing here…”

I wave my arm, gesturing to the bar.

“Let me tell this story, Miles. Let me show everyone the good you do.”

“Let her do it, Hamilton,” says the bartender. The tv is muted now. I’m not sure when he started listening. “Everyone should know how you saving my business helped keep food on the table for me and the kids. And that’s not even getting started on my mother’s medical care…”

Miles looks between us. “I didn’t do it for the glory.”

“That’s why you aren’t writing the story,” I say. “I am.”

Miles continues to gape at me for a long moment, before he finally exhales and then smiles. “So long as it’s you, Hazel…”

His smile lifts me up, and my own confidence shines.

“I’ll make you proud,” I tell him.

He shakes his head. “I already am.”