The Art Of The Next Best
Book Four and a Half of The New Pioneers
by Deborah Nam-Krane
E-book edition | © 2016
All rights reserved. No part of this e-book
may be reproduced in any form other than that in which it was
purchased and without the written permission of the author.
This e-book is licensed for your personal
enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to
other people. If you would like to share this book with another
person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If
you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not
purchased for your use only, please return to vendor and purchase
your own copy.
Thank you for respecting the hard work of
this author.
http://writtenbydeb.blogspot.com
TABLE OF CONTENTS
THE ART OF
THE NEXT BEST
AUTHOR’S
NOTE
THE
GOLDEN BOY RETURNS
ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
THE ART OF THE
NEXT BEST
Jack Donnelly had listened to the man across
from him for the last ten minutes. He answered the questions
without nervousness, but Jack knew that he wasn't getting the whole
story. And one thing he had learned was that the less he knew going
into something, the likelier he was to have that something blow up
in his face later.
Jack folded his arms across his broad chest.
"Let's be straight, okay? On paper you're overqualified, and your
references are excellent. So tell me why you'd rather slog away for
me when you could safely stay in academia. And don't BS me about
how unsafe your university is right now, because politics is always
going to be more unstable than anything else. Even in this
city."
Martin Shepard smiled at Jack from across the
table. He put his hands on the table as if to show that he didn't
have anything dangerous with him. "I voted for you in the last
election."
Jack leaned forward. "Why?"
"It was time for a change."
Jack scoffed. "Come on, we both know I wasn't
the ‘change candidate’."
Martin grinned. "I voted for that guy too,
but he didn't make it past the primary."
Jack laughed. “What do you have against
Cervino? You came here for college, so it's not that you were
screwed by the public schools. Cervino's been good to people in the
South End and Back Bay, and as far as I could find out you're not
connected to any of the developers he's tangled with. So, again,
why?"
Everything on Martin's face relaxed except
for his eyes. They were sharp and focused. "I don't like the way
the man does business."
"I'm serious, I'm not running for mayor
again."
"But you are running for an At-Large Council
seat, and that’s the job you really liked.” Jack lifted his chin
but said nothing. “And even if you're not made president again your
voice holds sway."
"I didn't stop Angelo every time he brought
something before us."
"That would have been impossible. But you
didn't mind embarrassing him when you had to. And you're going to
support his opponent in the next race."
"You know this for a fact? Because- no joke-
I don’t know who’s running yet. Besides, I'm one of the lucky ones:
Cervino beat me and made me take my medicine, but he didn't ruin me
and run me out of town." They both knew whom he was talking about
but neither said his name.
Martin leaned forward. "Because even Angelo
Cervino has his limits. And you can’t wait to remind him of
that.”
Jack grinned and stuck out his hand. "Welcome
aboard."
Martin shook his hand. “Thank you very
much.”
~~~
Three months before, Mitchell Graham was
watching the Red Sox at Martin’s house. Neither was much of a
baseball fan, but Mitch’s wife Emily was hosting a Girls Night In
with Martin's young fiancee Jessie Bartolome, their good friends
Zainab Hendrickson and Miranda Abbot and, of course, their favorite
girlfriend, his young daughter Hellie.
Mitch had arrived before Richard, Michael,
Vijay and Jordan (Carlos was boycotting the game out of loyalty to
the Yankees) and Martin was on his second beer. "Son of a bitch!"
Martin repeated over and over, and that was the
Book Four and a Half of The New Pioneers
by Deborah Nam-Krane
E-book edition | © 2016
All rights reserved. No part of this e-book
may be reproduced in any form other than that in which it was
purchased and without the written permission of the author.
This e-book is licensed for your personal
enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to
other people. If you would like to share this book with another
person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If
you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not
purchased for your use only, please return to vendor and purchase
your own copy.
Thank you for respecting the hard work of
this author.
http://writtenbydeb.blogspot.com
TABLE OF CONTENTS
THE ART OF
THE NEXT BEST
AUTHOR’S
NOTE
THE
GOLDEN BOY RETURNS
ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
THE ART OF THE
NEXT BEST
Jack Donnelly had listened to the man across
from him for the last ten minutes. He answered the questions
without nervousness, but Jack knew that he wasn't getting the whole
story. And one thing he had learned was that the less he knew going
into something, the likelier he was to have that something blow up
in his face later.
Jack folded his arms across his broad chest.
"Let's be straight, okay? On paper you're overqualified, and your
references are excellent. So tell me why you'd rather slog away for
me when you could safely stay in academia. And don't BS me about
how unsafe your university is right now, because politics is always
going to be more unstable than anything else. Even in this
city."
Martin Shepard smiled at Jack from across the
table. He put his hands on the table as if to show that he didn't
have anything dangerous with him. "I voted for you in the last
election."
Jack leaned forward. "Why?"
"It was time for a change."
Jack scoffed. "Come on, we both know I wasn't
the ‘change candidate’."
Martin grinned. "I voted for that guy too,
but he didn't make it past the primary."
Jack laughed. “What do you have against
Cervino? You came here for college, so it's not that you were
screwed by the public schools. Cervino's been good to people in the
South End and Back Bay, and as far as I could find out you're not
connected to any of the developers he's tangled with. So, again,
why?"
Everything on Martin's face relaxed except
for his eyes. They were sharp and focused. "I don't like the way
the man does business."
"I'm serious, I'm not running for mayor
again."
"But you are running for an At-Large Council
seat, and that’s the job you really liked.” Jack lifted his chin
but said nothing. “And even if you're not made president again your
voice holds sway."
"I didn't stop Angelo every time he brought
something before us."
"That would have been impossible. But you
didn't mind embarrassing him when you had to. And you're going to
support his opponent in the next race."
"You know this for a fact? Because- no joke-
I don’t know who’s running yet. Besides, I'm one of the lucky ones:
Cervino beat me and made me take my medicine, but he didn't ruin me
and run me out of town." They both knew whom he was talking about
but neither said his name.
Martin leaned forward. "Because even Angelo
Cervino has his limits. And you can’t wait to remind him of
that.”
Jack grinned and stuck out his hand. "Welcome
aboard."
Martin shook his hand. “Thank you very
much.”
~~~
Three months before, Mitchell Graham was
watching the Red Sox at Martin’s house. Neither was much of a
baseball fan, but Mitch’s wife Emily was hosting a Girls Night In
with Martin's young fiancee Jessie Bartolome, their good friends
Zainab Hendrickson and Miranda Abbot and, of course, their favorite
girlfriend, his young daughter Hellie.
Mitch had arrived before Richard, Michael,
Vijay and Jordan (Carlos was boycotting the game out of loyalty to
the Yankees) and Martin was on his second beer. "Son of a bitch!"
Martin repeated over and over, and that was the
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