“God, Ree,” Somers said, massaging his thigh. “I’m going to have a bruise—”

Then it landed, and he looked up at his father.

“You’re certainly qualified,” Glenn said. “More importantly, you’re the right person for the job.”

“No,” Somers said, shaking his head. “No, no way—ah! Ree, Christ, I’m not going to be able to walk.”

“Tell him yes,” Hazard said. “You’re dragging this out.”

“No,” Somers said, and this time, he caught Hazard’s wrist. “Look, I appreciate the offer. It means a lot, actually, and I . . . I’m grateful that you trust me. But I don’t have administrative experience, and I just got off a possession charge, and—”

“So help me Christ,” Hazard said, “if you make me miss dinner.”

“Look, I don’t want to be a puppet,” Somers said. “I watched how it went with Cravens and Newton. It was nasty, and she stopped being good police. Then Riggle came along, and he wanted to yank my strings because I’m your son. Whoever the new chief is, it’s going to be hard enough for me with you as mayor.”

“Not if you’re the chief, dumbass,” Hazard said, trying to slap his leg again.

Glenn’s face was unreadable. When he spoke, his voice was measured, “I promise you that I won’t ask you to do anything against your . . . ethics.” When Somers opened his mouth, Glenn held up a hand. “I know that, at this point in our relationship, a promise from me means very little. But even if you can’t trust me, don’t you think you can trust Emery?”

“Of course,” Somers said, “but—”

“He’ll make sure I don’t exert an undue influence on you.” After a moment, Glenn added drily, “And he’ll enjoy it a great deal, I imagine.”

Somers didn’t have to imagine; he could practically feel the smugness radiating off Hazard. It was going to take weeks to squash his ego back down to size.

“I don’t know,” Somers said.

“Say yes,” Glenn said.

“Say yes,” Hazard growled, “so I can get my pudding cup.”

Somers looked around the room: the powder-blue walls, the peeling weather stripping around the window, the broken crown of clouds drifting east, the stars.

“Yes. Yeah. I guess—if the alternative is having my fiancé break my leg, then yeah. I’ll do it.”

Glenn offered a tight smile. “Excellent.”

“No special treatment, Father. No turning a blind eye. You get the same deal as everybody else.”

“Of course.”

“Not so much as a speeding ticket.”

Glenn’s smile was more relaxed this time, a little wry. “That’s going to put a dent in the budget.”

He left with a quiet goodbye; Somers followed him with his eyes until he was out of the room, and then Hazard hooked a finger under his chin, tugging his head back, and kissed him.

“That was batshit crazy, right?” Somers said after the kiss, laughing. “I mean—”

Hazard kissed him again, longer this time.

“Totally insane,” Somers managed to say. “Not even—”