Chapter Twenty-Eight
Jack
The festival is lively. Families are together, with young kids licking snow cones and eating cotton candy. Crowds have been forming around the stage and I plant myself in front, wanting a solid view of Taylor and the senator during his speech.
They stand to the left of the stage, and I can tell she’s uptight. Her posture is tense, her shoulders raised high, a forced smile on her face. I don’t like the stress, not for her or for the baby. I console myself knowing this is the last time she needs to play the role he’s assigned her.
Of course, she’s exquisite, the epitome of the politician’s girlfriend in a matching pale pink skirt and cropped jacket, her hair clipped back with a pearl clasp that matches the strand around her neck.
I want to drag her off the stage and away from that self-righteous prick, but we agreed she’d finish this one last obligation.
The governor makes his speech and then, Cross grasps Taylor’s hand and together, they walk across the stage. She does her introduction and I give her credit, she pulls it off flawlessly.
I turn to make my way through the crowd. When Taylor steps down the few stairs from the stage, I want to be there.
“Jack?” a female voice calls out.
I pivot to see a woman with long, dark hair looking at me. Her features are familiar enough that I know she has to be Taylor’s sister. “Holly?” I ask, because Taylor has told me her name.
She nods. “I thought that was you. Taylor showed me a picture of you guys on the beach.”
She’s attractive in her own way but doesn’t strike me the same way her sister did the first time we met. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” I tell her.
She smiles. “Same here.”
From the stage, the senator launches into his preplanned speech.
“Taylor didn’t mention you’d be here today.” Holly glances toward where her sister stands with a plastic smile on her face.
“We’re keeping things quiet.” I slide my hands into my front pants pockets, keeping an eye on the senator as he speaks. “I just wanted to look out for her. Be here if she needs me.” And make sure Chandler Cross keeps his hands to himself.
She smiles. “I’m glad she has you. After all she’s been through with him, she deserves someone who cares about her.”
I open my mouth to reply but the senator clears his throat, capturing my attention.
“Before I let you all go and enjoy yourselves, I have one more announcement to make.”
Holly and I both turn to face the stage.
“As you all know, Taylor Monroe and I have been together for a while now.” He slides his hand into his jacket pocket and I stiffen.
“No. Oh, no,” Holly says beside me.
I glance at her profile, her parted lips and the way the color has drained from her face. “What?” I bite out.
She grips my wrist tightly but doesn’t reply, merely watches her sister, whose eyes have widened in panic. Before I can press Holly further, the senator bends down on one knee.
“And now she’s my fiancée,” Cross says and without waiting, slips the ring onto Taylor’s finger, too smart to give her a choice in front of the now cheering crowd.
“That’s it. This bullshit is over.” I take a step, planning to hustle the woman I love off that stage while telling the senator where to shove his ring, when Holly grabs my arm.
“Don’t! Let her play this out,” she tells me. “Then he won’t see it coming when she takes him down. If you make a scene, Taylor is the only one who’ll pay. He’ll call her out in public.” She holds my arm tight. “Please.”
“No. This isn’t what your sister would want. Let’s go,” I tell Holly, and we make our way to the stage exit.
No sooner do I get there than Taylor glances over and meets my gaze. She shakes her head at Chandler before she runs to me, throwing herself into my arms.
“Come on, sweetheart. I’m getting you out of here.” I grab her hand and together, we rush into the crowd.
“She wants to share the good news with her family,” I hear the senator say into the microphone, trying to save face as he lets out an awkward laugh.
“Taylor!” a man’s voice calls from behind us.
“I’ll deal with David. Go!” Holly, who’s been keeping up with us, says.
I hurry us through the crush of people and duck behind a portable restroom stall. I grasp Taylor’s hips in my hand and look into her tearstained face. Shit. I brush the moisture with my fingertips.
I should never have let things get this far, but who the fuck knew Cross would pull this kind of stunt in public? “Are you okay?” I cup her cheeks in my hands.
She nods. “Even if I didn’t see you and Holly by the stage, I was running anyway.”
“I know.” She’s fucking brave, dealing with his bullshit. Wrapping one arm around her, I pull my phone from my pocket and call my friend, Carter, the attorney who will be representing Taylor.
He answers on the first ring. “Yeah. I saw the shit show on TV,” he says without me having to ask.
“Can you meet us today?” I kiss Taylor’s cheek.
“I’ll be at the office waiting.” It may be Saturday, but he’s a good friend.
“Thanks,” I mutter and disconnect the call. “Come on. We’re going to talk to Carter.”
Taylor nods. “I want this off,” she says, working the ring off her finger and shoving it into her purse, then pulls her phone from inside. “My cell keeps going off,” she says, pulling it from her small Chanel purse. She frowns at the screen. “It’s Chandler. Texts and calls.”
“Turn it on silent and ignore him. We have a lawyer to talk to and plans to make.” I take her hand and squeeze it with reassurance. “I’ve got you,” I promise her.
And I’m not letting her go.
We arrive at Carter’s office. He brought his partner with him because Robert James will be starting Taylor’s case while Carter finishes up his current trial. They’re dressed in jeans and T-shirts, weekend casual, and I’m hoping the laid-back atmosphere will help keep Taylor calm.
Grasping my hand, she explains the hold the senator has over her and turns the incriminating documents on Chandler over to the lawyers. We stopped by the bank to retrieve them from her safe deposit box.
After a lot of reading and questioning, both men seem optimistic on her behalf, but she fidgets and I know she won’t feel settled until their words are confirmed by federal officials.
As high-profile attorneys with the right connections, they assure us she’ll be sitting down with someone at the Federal Election Commission soon.
By the time we walk out of the office, I see her exhaustion in the lines around her eyes and the dark circles beneath. She went into the day on edge, and everything that’s happened since has only added to her stress.
We step into the elevator, and I wait until the doors close. I’ve already formed a plan so I turn to her. “I think you should stay at a hotel for a few days,” I tell her. “I don’t want to risk you going home and having the senator or reporters waiting for you.”
She meets my gaze. “Can’t I stay at your hotel with you? I don’t want to be alone. I’m just so drained.”
My heart squeezes in my chest at the weariness in her voice.
I pull her close and she sags against me.
“As much as I’d like that, Cross can find you at my hotel, too.
It’s listed under my name. Let me message Carter and ask if he can book you a hotel room so Cross won’t be able to find you. I can stay there with you.”
She smiles, obviously relieved. “Thanks for being here,” she says, kissing my cheek.
“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” I assure her.
The elevator doors open and we step out.
Before walking out to the street, I message Carter upstairs.
Within seconds, he replies. I text him a thank-you and read the details before turning to Taylor.
“Carter’s firm has discount corporate rates at the Hotel Bennett.
He’ll take care of making you a reservation.
The front desk will ask for some form of ID, so he said he’ll book it under an associate’s name, and we’ll meet the woman who will check in for you and give you the key. ”
“This is all so … complex. Underhanded.” She shakes her head and sighs.
I lift one shoulder. “Better underhanded than dealing with the senator,” I mutter.
Her lips twitch. “Amen.”
I let out a laugh. “In the meantime, let’s get you something to eat.”
She recommends an out-of-the-way place where we can relax.
Once seated in a corner in the back of the restaurant, she orders a chicken salad sandwich on whole wheat toast, lemonade, and a piece of carrot cake.
I eat a burger and fries, but spend most of the meal watching her forget her troubles and focus on feeding her hunger.
She devours the meal so quickly, I wonder if she ate something before she left for the festival this morning.
“What?” she asks, realizing I’m staring. “I’m eating for two.”
Her cheeks heat and I grin. “I’m not judging. I’m enjoying. It’s good to see you relaxed.”
She sighs. “I was so nervous I only ate a protein bar this morning.”
I frown and nod. “I assumed you hadn’t had much to eat.” Another reason to get Chandler out of her life. Eliminate the stress.
She pushes the dessert plate away from her, leans back in the chair, and breathes out a long stream of air. “I’m full.”
I chuckle. “Me too.” I wipe my mouth with my napkin and place it on the table beside my plate. “How was your time with your family the last couple of days?” I ask.
While I had meetings with workmen in the hopes that we’ll be able to do renovations one day soon, she caught up with her mom, dad, and sister.
She smiles. “It was nice. I wanted to tell them about the baby, but it’s not the right time. I need Chandler’s threats behind me so they have nothing to worry about.”
I nod in agreement. “And like I mentioned, I want to be there when you tell them,” I remind her.
She nods. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.