I’m such an idiot. I got jealous and called, pulling her away from the very thing she told me she needs to focus on.

“I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “I’ll let you go.”

“If I can’t leave a meeting for two minutes without things falling apart,” Kimba says flatly, “what the hell am I paying you for, Felita?”

“Well, your two minutes are almost up,” Felita replies, the tension in her voice easing some. “And then I start charging overtime.”

Kimba chuckles. “Get back in there. I’m coming.”

“Mateo was asking for you,” Felita says. “Just wanted you to know.”

“I said I’m coming.” Kimba waits until a door clicks closed. “Sorry. I should probably—”

Mai’s wail cuts off whatever Kimba started to say. I look down into miserable blue eyes. She’s tired and probably hungry by now. With Aiko sick, too, I’ll use the milk she expressed that’s in the fridge.

“That’s quite a set of pipes she’s got,” Kimba says. “I better let you go. I have to go anyway. Apparently, the world burns down if I leave a meeting.”

Mai’s lungs shift into another gear.

“Shhh.” I bounce her and speed walk to the kitchen to get the milk. “Tru, maybe we can—”

“Kimba,” a deep voice says from the other end.

“Mateo, hey.”

“I could use your weigh-in on this if we don’t want to be down another five points tomorrow.” There’s a bite to his voice, and I want to tell him to handle his own damn five points.

“Right,” she says. “I’m coming now.”

I hear the door close decisively.

“I really have to go, Ez.”

“I get it,” I say, opening the refrigerator in search of the bottles I know Aiko left, but I can’t find. Mai’s wailing doesn’t let up, so I speak louder to make sure Kimba hears me. “I just called because I miss you like hell. When this is over—”

“Yes,” she says, her voice low and tired and sad. “When this is over.”

Chapter Forty-Nine

Chapter Forty-Nine

Kimba

“Well, we gave it our best shot,” I tell Mateo Ruiz.

“That we did,” he says, his eyes solemn.

I squeeze his hand and lean forward with a grin. “I told you we were gonna make history.”

The sobriety that has hung around him all night as he fully grasped what he has achieved lightens, and he smiles. “There’s no question—I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“It was an honor to be on you team, Governor.”

Music reaches us through the walls of the hotel, and he proffers his arm to me. “I guess I better report to the dance floor. They’re playing my song.”