Chapter Eleven #2
“There you are,” Chandler says, too calm. “I was beginning to think you lost your phone.”
I narrow my gaze, certain the punch line is coming. “What do you want?” I ask.
“The Performing Arts Festival schedule of speakers has changed. The Governor is attending, so he’ll be speaking before me and since you’re introducing me, your comments are even more important.”
“I already told you I’d be there,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Yes, you did. But I want your speech on my desk ASAP. I need to make sure I approve of your comments.”
I roll my eyes because he could look at it the day before if he wasn’t such an overbearing ogre. “You’ll have it,” I mutter.
“I’d lose the attitude, darling.”
Silence descends between us. I’m so sick of his games. He’s nice, he’s pissed, I never know what I’ll get from him.
“Speech in my email by tomorrow morning. Or there will be consequences.”
I’m pacing the floor of my bedroom and my anger is all-consuming. “Like what?” I snap at him, regretting the words as they come out of my mouth.
“Like your charity will get an anonymous email with information you don’t want to get out. I’m certain things will snowball from there,” he says in a calm but determined voice.
I draw a deep breath. “In that case, I’ll tell the police what I know about you.”
He lets out a low chuckle. “It might almost be worth it to see you face the humiliation and losses that will follow.”
My stomach clenches because this is the first time I feel like he’s more of a wild card than I thought. That mutually assured destruction might not save me. But he’s too much of a narcissist to risk the career and power he loves so much.
“You’ll have the speech in the morning,” I say and disconnect the call. My hands are shaking and so are my legs.
Realizing Jack is still in the other room, I call out that I’ll be right there, then toss the cell on the bed, sit down, grip the mattress, and take calming breaths.
Chandler never fails to upset me, unnerve me, and make me doubt my plan.
That’s because you don’t have a plan, a voice in my head mocks me.
I grab my phone from the mattress and rejoin Jack in the other room.
He stands as I enter from the bedroom. “Is everything okay?” he asks.
I’m assuming I’m looking as shaken as I feel. Not wanting to lie, I give Jack a kernel of truth. “It was an ex. He’s been giving me a hard time lately. I just needed to reiterate that he needs to leave me alone.”
A scowl replaces Jack’s normally easy-going expression. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
I take his hand and pull him down as I sit. “It’s not that bad. I’ve been ignoring his texts, so he decided to call. I put him in his place. Nothing to worry about.”
He purses his lips and I can tell he’s not convinced.
“I swear,” I say, hoping he believes me.
He jerks his head. “Okay then. About the yacht …”
He’s going to let it go, and I blow out a relieved breath. “Let’s do it,” I say. A day on a boat in the sunshine is exactly what I need to forget about Chandler and the mess waiting for me at home.
“Great. I’ll let Tristan know and make sure we pick the nicest day of the week.” He winks and my stomach does a flip like I’m a teenager with a boy that I like. Except Jack is all man, something I know firsthand.
I clasp my hands together on my lap. “But about dinner tonight, can we reschedule? I have some work I have to get done by the morning. It just came up.” While I was on the phone with my ex. It doesn’t sound particularly plausible.
I feel awful, but there’s no way I can go out for dinner and then write a glowing speech about Senator Chandler Cross.
I’ll be exhausted when I get home. Even with this afternoon free, it’s going to take all those hours and more to get words down that don’t sound mocking or fake.
Add in the nap I’ll need to take, courtesy of the pregnancy …
I have no choice but to make Jack the casualty.
His gaze swings to mine, his sexy lips turned downward. “Oh, sure. The Cuban restaurant can wait.”
I hate the disappointment in his voice. It’s the same feeling that’s settled over me and put me in a shitty mood. He grows quiet, obviously put off by my canceling our date tonight, and I don’t blame him.
In silence, I clean up the food and wrappers, crumpling everything up and shoving it into the bag he carried in, then tossing it in the trash. He puts the drinks in the garbage and then we’re standing around, each waiting for the other to speak first.
He glances at me, gaze slightly narrowed, staring into my eyes as if trying to figure me out. “I should get going,” he says at last.
I bite down on the inside of my cheek to keep from blurting out all my truths and disappointing him even more.
Imagine telling Jack I’m being blackmailed by a state senator that’s my ex-boyfriend, and my entire life could crumble around me if either of us blinks first. He’s a good man, but my situation would send any rational person running the other way.
“Thanks for breakfast.” I smile but it’s forced.
He inclines his head. “I’ll be in touch about the day trip.” He doesn’t mention rescheduling dinner and my mood plummets even more.
We stare at each other and then he pivots and lets himself out.
Damn, I think when he’s gone. I’d hoped being honest about who was on the phone would be the right thing to do, but between the word ‘ex-boyfriend’ and canceling dinner for something that just came up, I ruined what was going to be a really great day.