Effortless With You by Lizzy Charles Page B

two nutritionists debating the Gluten Disease. I peek at Justin who’s strumming his fingers on the steering wheel, like this is a really great song. The NPR mediator takes a brief break and switches to a commercial. A frail voice cracks through the speakers. “I want to be a football player. Not have leukemia.” Another voice adds, “I was a ballerina … until leukemia.” Soft music begins to play, making my heart ache. Crap. I’m such a softie for these advertisements. I wait it out, listening to the celebrity call for action to help Children’s Leukemia Research. I thumb my phone, feeling guilty. But it’s not like I even have a credit card to give anything with. Heck, if I gave money every time I felt moved, my parents would be broke.
    Justin, on the other hand, grabs his phone off the center console and scrolls through his contacts, pushing SEND.
    Ha. He hadn’t even noticed the commercial. He’s probably calling Jennifer, arranging a hot date for the night. How insensitive! Not that I was planning to call in, but still.
    “Kate, hey!” Justin’s voice is smooth. “Great to hear your voice again too.” He pauses, scratching that fabulous stubble. “Naw. I don’t want to go on air in Phoenix. Just put me down for the usual.”
    On air?
    The NPR mediator returns, announcing the next segment, a live research conference on Children’s Leukemia Research from Phoenix.
    Holy crap.
    He’s donating!
    “We should definitely catch up. When are you in town again?” He motions for me to open the glove box. He points and smiles at a small black notebook and pen. I hand it back. Seriously? Is he always this prepared?
    “A month? Great. I’d love to help. What’s your cell?” He jots her name and number across his pad. “Fantastic. Thanks for the opportunity. You’ve got my number?”
    Stupid question. Of course she does. He’s freakin’ Justin Marshall.
    “Sounds good. Have a good one,” he says before hanging up.
    That short conversation adds a whole new dimension to Justin. He’s a regular donator. But why? How?
    He hands the notebook back to me. “Thanks.”
    As I place it back in the glove box, a political advertisement for his dad catches on my finger. Ahh, right.
    “So? Are you commissioned to donate to research facilities on behalf of your dad’s campaign or something?” The question flies from my mouth before I can stop it. Horrible, rude. But then again, it is Justin. It’s not like he hasn’t ever been blunt with me.
    Justin’s green eyes snag my breath with their intensity. “No,” he says. “I donate my own money and time to leukemia research.”
    “Are you prepping for your own run for senate soon?” This all makes sense. A future politician. He’s smart, keeping his record clean. Already building a foundation.
    “Ah, I see you have me all figured out.”
    “Pretty much. It’s not a bad thing to be so transparent though. I’m sure you’ll make a great senator someday.”
    “Do I have your vote?”
    Ha. “Probably not.”
    “I didn’t think so,” he says with a slight smile. “I’ll have to change that, huh?”
    “Good luck trying.”
    Justin nods as he switches into the right-hand lane, before slowly pulling off to the shoulder of the road and throwing on his hazard lights.
    “You better not be giving me a campaign speech or something. I’m locked in here. Totally not fair.”
    His green eyes find mine again. “Lucy, what do you know about my family?”
    “Why are we on the side of the road?”
    “Just answer the question.”
    I sigh, debating how much it’s appropriate for me to reveal. From Marissa’s obsession, I already know far too much. “Well, your dad’s running for governor. Your mom runs charities.” He nods along. “Doesn’t your sister have a home design business or something?”
    “Sort of. Fashion, actually.”
    “Right. You kind of have the perfect family.” It's true. Everyone knows it.
    “We all love each other and aren’t afraid to