Chapter 19 #2
He also would like a chance to ask her what she saw in her future. In their future. Was she planning on being a political wife? Arranging charity events, doing community outreach, hosting lavish parties at their home?
Did she have dreams of her own career?
“Especially not after that whole fiasco.” Henry waved out toward the stage.
“What fiasco?”
He and Henry were usually on the same page when it came to how successful an event was or not. They’d been working so closely for so long, sometimes he swore he could hear the exact words about to come out of his campaign manager’s mouth just seconds before he uttered them.
His surprise was enough to make him stop looking for his fiancée and focus on Henry.
“With Iris,” Henry said, scrolling through something on his phone, then rapidly typing with one hand. Finn could just picture his calendar filling up in real time.
“What are you talking about?”
“The way she went on and on about the ocean,” Henry said, tapping away.
“She’s from the ocean.”
“Yes, fine. But this town hall was not about her. None of this is about her.”
Taken aback, it took Finn a moment to sort through his thoughts.
“I know you’re not aiming to be an ass, but you really hit the mark,” Finn said, watching as his head lifted, brows raised.
“You know I didn’t mean it that way. I meant that you need to be the focal point of these types of events, since these people will be voting for you, not her.”
“Still. Watch how you talk about her. She could have overheard and misinterpreted.”
“Understood. Now, let’s go over—”
“Not tonight. I’m going to find Iris and get her home. She’s had a long day. We can start early tomorrow.”
Henry watched Finn for a long moment. He wasn’t accustomed to Finn making the rules and setting the pace. Usually, trusting Henry like he did, Finn allowed him to hold the reins.
Just this once, though, he was going to put his foot down.
He was going to find Iris.
The problem was, she was nowhere to be found.
Not at the town hall venue.
Not at the bookstore.
Not at any of the hot pretzel carts.
Not in the pool or penthouse.
Minutes ticked to hours as Finn’s anxiety grew. It wasn’t like her to be out late. She was getting used to the city, but not enough to feel comfortable out alone at night.
And she was alone.
He’d spoken to Selene, Willow, and Arden. No one had seen her.
Had she gone out with someone from the town hall?
Had it been that werewolf she’d been staring at?
His stomach coiled, but he forced himself not to let those thoughts take root.
He needed to focus on finding her, not on what she was potentially doing. Or with whom.
It was the darkest part of night when he heard a rattle at the penthouse door, shocking him out of a near sleep that left him feeling more disoriented than before.
“Iris?” he called, jumping off the couch.
“Alas, no. It’s not the stunning sea wench,” Monty called. He waddled in with a wing holding several swag bags, like he’d attended multiple events in one night. And, given his social-ladder-climbing ways, he probably had. “She probably went out for coffee. Or a pretzel.”
“No, Monty. She’s been gone all night.”
“All night?” he asked, some of his usual lightness falling away.
“We were at the town hall together. But she dis-appeared. I haven’t seen her since.”
“You mean to tell me that a sweet, sheltered stranger to the land is lost in this sprawling metropolis and there isn’t a swarm of police in this apartment? Where are the federal agents? The National Guard?”
“Monty, I get the panic. Really, I do. But I need you to focus. Try to figure out where she might have gone. I’ve checked the usual places.”
“Was she feeling particularly tide-turned?”
“What does tide-turned mean?”
“Moody. Off.”
His mind flashed back to her face when she’d come out of the bathroom.
“Maybe. Yes. Yeah, definitely. Why?”
“She may have gone to the closest body of water, then. To clear her head. I’ll go see if I can track down some gulls and ask,” he said. He dropped his bags then moved toward the door. “You stay here.”
Finn wasn’t sure if trusting a pelican was his best bet. But, then again, no one in the city knew Iris as well as her ‘emotional support pelican.’
Alone again, Finn went into the bathroom, cranking the water to cold, then stripping and climbing in, wanting to shock himself fully awake.
It wasn’t until he climbed out that he saw it.
The ring box on the sink counter.
The ring nestled inside like a closed promise.
He knew she’d been wearing it at the town hall.
Its presence in the penthouse meant she’d come home afterward.
He rushed down the hall, pushing open the primary bedroom door and looking with fresh eyes.
There.
Half kicked under the bed was the light pink dress she’d worn to the press conference.
Along with her strapless bra.
And her panties.
All crumpled like a shed skin.
Monty was right.
She’d gone to the water.
Likely in nothing but a sundress or cover-up, so she could easily strip and slide into the waves.
As he glanced more around the apartment, he realized that while she had left the ring, she had taken something else with her. The book. His book. The one he’d spent hours picking out and getting spelled for her.
Its absence gave him hope that it wasn’t too late to change her mind.
She was running.
Not just away from the pressures of his future office.
But also from him.
Though, he was crossing his fingers that taking the book with her meant she wasn’t completely done with him.
Because he needed to bring her back.
And it wasn’t about appearances, or strategy, or trying to salvage the relationship he’d mapped out like a campaign.
This had nothing to do with optics.
It was her pillow-creased face first thing in the morning.
It was her late-night laugh when Monty regaled her with stories of his adventures.
It was the way she challenged him without flinching.
It was how she cried happy tears when the characters in her books finally got out of their own way and fell in love.
It was the way her hair fell into her face when she laughed, and her eyes warmed when she shot him one of those rare, precious smiles.
It was the way she made him want to do better, to be better. Not for the views, not for the headlines, not for the votes. But for her.
It was because she’d only been gone a short while and his world already felt darker and colder.
He had to bring her back because he knew somewhere deep in his marrow that what had started out as a strategy had become the only thing in his life that felt real.