Chapter Twenty Three
Post Home-state Rally Dinner — Boston, Massachusetts
“Lennon! Lennon, over here!” a reporter shouted as we hurried from the SUV to the front door of the hotel venue where the post-home-state rally dinner was being held.
Lennon had spoken right before her mother, though there was a definite chill between them as the speculation that had started the day of the Michigan rally blazed out of control.
At this point, I had no clue how we were still on the job at all.
Collier made it clear that it was above his paygrade, but that he would have yanked us ages ago, and President Holloway’s magnanimity toward us for saving Lennon that day in the Kennedy garden had long run out.
Today, when we’d seen her backstage, she’d ignored us completely and had offered her daughter a monotone greeting that I knew hurt Lennon’s feelings. Especially considering Lennon had spent the last six months of her life supporting her mother’s campaign.
So who the heck was it that was keeping us with her?
Pulling the door to the hotel open, Brooks stood on the other side while Dallas and Maverick flanked Lennon inside while I brought up the rear.
“Are those your bodyguards or your alphas!” someone else managed to fire off before we got in and Lennon turned to glare at him.
“Don’t,” Maverick said, probably feeling her anger through the shared bond that we’d been meticulously covering up with makeup.
Lennon had insisted on dressing herself to her stylists—something that I could tell that the pair wasn’t used to—but we couldn’t trust that they wouldn’t spill the beans as soon as they saw the silvery scar capping her slender shoulder.
We just needed to make it through this month and then we could figure out this mess together.
Just the thought of the word ‘together’ filled me with a childish giddiness that I fought to keep off of my face as I closed the doors and cut off the sounds of shouting outside.
“Ignore them, Lennon,” Brooks said as he nodded to the crowd that was already forming in the lobby. “Remember you have a job to do today.”
It was the cocktail hour before the actual dinner started and it was Lennon’s job to schmooze, a clear directive from her mother and McDaniels.
“That’s really hard to do when they’re right but really damned annoying about it,” Lennon muttered as she threw her shoulders back and plastered her best customer service smile on her face.
Dallas made a noise behind me, but by the time I turned to glance at him his face was impassive.
He was the only hold out in our core four. The only one who still refused to agree or even acknowledge that Lennon was a scent match for him and for all of us.
As if we hadn’t seen the way his eyes tracked her every movement or his increasing propensity for bickering with her—which was his own personal love language.
He needed time, I knew that much and so did Brooks. I just wasn’t sure if Lennon was going to be willing to give it to him forever.
Maverick told me that, even if she didn’t show it, he could feel the rejection she felt whenever Dallas drew away from her or ignored her and that it stung which had also made the alpha especially terse with our teammate over the past couple of weeks too.
Meanwhile, I just wanted to feel the same things he did.
It was like a weird sense of jealousy and impatience had filled me the moment we walked into that hotel room and discovered them together.
Now that everything was out in the open with Lennon I knew that my chance to bond with her was coming soon… but at the same time, the more bonds Lennon had on her body, the harder it would be for us to hide.
Her scent had already shifted and changed because of Maverick, her sweet cherry wine taking on the headier edge of his vanilla bourbon.
If not for the fact that nearly every person we worked with was taking suppressants the cat would have already long been out of the bag and we would have been chucked out on our asses.
No, I had to remind myself that my time, and Brooks’ time, and even Dallas’s time would eventually come.
For now I would have to be okay with the tiny stolen kisses that she pulled me in for when no one was looking.
Which felt few and far in between because someone was always looking at her.
Lennon truly was one of the most watched women in the world and it felt like the outer team that had, at first, been supporting us was now watching us more closely to see if and when we fucked up.
“I’m schmoozing, I’m schmoozing,” Lennon huffed dryly, waving a bejeweled hand.
This night wasn’t about securing votes or fundraising, but more about thanking those who had been with the Holloways throughout the election as a whole and giving people something more valuable than money: their time.
So we followed Lennon around as she asked people about their grandchildren, their hobbies, talked ad nauseum about golf, the stock market, and well, schmoozed.
She was very good at it even though it made me want to bang my head against a wall.
It was one of the things I had hated most about attending events with my father. He would get wrapped up in these conversations for hours while my feet would go numb in whatever shiny, pinchy shoes my mother had picked out for me that evening.
I was just grateful the Secret Service-issued footwear was marginally more comfortable than that—better for us to run in if need be.
Finally, after what felt like hours but probably hadn’t been anything more than forty-five minutes, dinner was called and the crowd began to head inside.
President Holloway was already waiting inside at the head table as people filed in and found their place cards. Next to her were the former vice president and his wife, already beaming as their guests joined them.
Lennon moved to join her mother, her expression wavering as she stood next to her mother and waited for everyone to file in before taking her seat.
They were all wearing varying shades of blue, I realized as we stood off to the side of the table with the president’s Secret Service who shot us a glance before staring forward again.
“Thank you all for joining us tonight,” President Holloway said by way of greeting. “It’s hard to believe that we’re already here, a month out from election night. For those of you who attended the home state rally this afternoon it was a record turnout for Massachusetts!”
The ballroom was filled with the sound of clapping.
“A huge thank you to all for all that you have done for this campaign, we truly would not have gotten this far without your generous contributions. Now, I promised my family I wouldn’t do too much electioneering in my speech but…”
I zoned out after that, my eyes tracing the crowd despite there being really no need to. Every inch of this place was watched by the Secret Service. Hell, I was pretty sure they were also posted up on most surrounding rooftops as well because POTUS was here.
Instead, I focused on Lennon who looked as bored as I was feeling. She was poking at the salmon on her plate, her expression neutral but her gray eyes dull, like she wished she was anywhere but here.
Then they shifted to mine, like she could feel me staring at her, and she smiled her first real smile of the night.
My chest warmed.
“Hey, stop with the dopey look,” Dallas growled, elbowing me in the side. “Vice President Holloway is looking at you.”
I jumped, glancing over to the older man who was staring at me with his gray eyes that were nearly identical to his granddaughter’s, seeming to measure me up as he glanced at Lennon and then back at me.
“Now eat! Enjoy the food and the ridiculously priced wine. We will reconvene on the rooftop in an hour for the last part of our evening,” President Holloway said, her gaze sweeping over the entire crowd like a queen presiding over her court, before sitting down to her own meal.
Vice President Holloway did the same, but I did catch him whispering something to his wife who shot a surreptitious glance my way before shaking her head.
“What part of keeping this a secret do you not get?” Dallas said, his voice almost a whisper as we stood shoulder to shoulder. “You’re literally eye-fucking each other.”
“Language,” Maverick warned from Dallas’s other side, though he didn’t even look our way, his eyes doing their usual scan of the crowd before he pushed away from the wall. “I’m going to go check in with the agents on the roof. Dallas you’re with me, Brooks you and Zeke stay on her.”
Brooks nodded once. The alpha had been uncharacteristically silent when it came to his brother tonight and I was itching to ask him about it, so I waited until the other two disappeared through the doors before slanting a glance over at him.
“What’s going on between you and Dallas?”
The man snorted, shaking his head with disgust. “He’s a stubborn ass, that’s what’s going on.”
I snorted at that. “Yeah and water is wet, B, but that’s not really anything new. It’s never made you ignore each other like this.”
Brooks’ expression was pinched and he just shrugged. “We’ve never disagreed so hardcore like this before either. Dallas has always looked out for me when he thinks I’m making the wrong decision, but it’s not usually a decision he also wants to make and is in complete denial about.”
There had never been a time in the near-decade that we’d worked together that our team had been so out of sync.
Though, I guessed it had something to do with the rough transition from ‘team’ to ‘pack.’
That would continue to be tough if Dallas wasn’t on board.
“So, what do we do?” I asked, movement at the head table catching my eye. Lennon was getting up, her face suddenly flushed pink.
I pushed away from the wall before Brooks could answer and hurried down the little pathway that had been created on the side of the ballroom for the various security agents of the guests to use, Brooks hot on my heels.