“Now, Ms. Bev, you should be so lucky that a man like that would even come here. It shows his good-naturedness right there. I mean, look around. He must have been horrified—no offense.”

“None taken,” Liza said sarcastically.

“How many of us can say we know a billionaire? Senator De Berg says half of politics is knowing who to ask for money.”

Liza mimed wrapping a rope around her neck, and Bev elbowed her sharply.

“So will you be staying over?” Granny asked too sweetly.

“Oh no, of course not. I can’t be seen in these conditions for long.”

Liza sucked her teeth and moved toward her room. She could never handle Colin for too long.

“Liza, girl . . .” He let his voice trail, and it sounded practiced. “You have really grown into yourself, haven’t you? Can I talk to you a bit?”

Liza stopped in her tracks and plopped on the couch. He was a council member in Alexandria and could probably help her more with the proposal for Netherfield since WIC suggested she expand what she wrote.

“Sure,” Liza said. Chicho sat down next to her without Liza having to beg.

Colin sat beside her and placed his hand on her knee. “Christopher is giving me all kinds of tips for political life. He really is a beacon in the Democratic Party,” Colin said excitedly.

Chicho nodded. “Voted number two in the Power Broker Index.”

“Yes!” Colin answered in surprise. “Yes. So, he says the first thing you have to do is find yourself a wife and then immediately pop out a few kids. He says that people absolutely don’t vote for single men. There’s a creep factor.”

“I can imagine,” was all Liza said, nudging Chicho. But Chicho’s face was serious, and she nodded slowly. She was going too far with her politeness. Colin continued for exactly thirty-seven minutes, imparting to Liza and Chicho the proper next steps for any political hopeful. At the thirty-eighth minute, Liza spoke up. “Well, Colin, we must pick this lovely conversation up later. I have some blogs to write.”

“Yes, I’ve seen some of them. Can I watch your process?” Colin’s eyes roved over her.

“I’m sorry, I don’t really like to have people around while I’m creating.”

“Colin, are you coming to church with me tomorrow?” Bev asked. Colin was Bev’s fake trophy child, and she would spend the weekend taking him around all her church-lady events and fawning over his accomplishments. Her actual kids all allowed it because it gave them the weekend off from Bev’s inspecting eye. Job searches, boyfriend questions, grade inquiries—all gone. Colin’s green eyes and fancy education were here, and his shining corona kept the heat off Bev’s kids and all the ways they were failing her. It seemed like a fair trade to the Bennett siblings.

DESPITE APPEARANCES