Cole sat behind his desk, Allison in the chair across from him, Ram pacing and staring out the window like he was auditioning for a part in the next Mission: Impossible movie. Except even to Cole, Ram seemed more Maxwell Smart than Tom Cruise.
“We need to decide how we’re going to address this,” Allison said, repeating the theme she had been pushing since she entered the office. Cole wanted to give her an answer. Not just to make her stop saying it, either. Allison was a hard-working woman who had a valid point. She deserved to have her concern taken seriously and answered.
But try as he might to come up with some solution, the bulk of his focus was still in the apartment above the coffee shop, hearing Jenna tell him that he had turned into another goddamned politician.
If anyone should know, it would be her.
“How do you want to answer it?” he said tiredly, tossing the printout of the article onto his desk. “There’s nothing in there that isn’t true.”
Allison’s jaw sagged. “It says that you and Rob Elias—”
“It doesn’t say that anywhere. It implies a whole lot, but the actual facts are one hundred percent correct. I knew who Jenna was. I allowed her to work on my campaign. I kept her in the background. She has been meeting with her father.”
“Yeah, what’s up with that?” Ram turned away from the window. “I thought she hated his guts. So why was she getting all cozy with him?”
For me. She did it for me.
“He came here the day after the debate, spouting some veiled threats. I told Jenna. She struck a deal with him, agreeing to meet him once a week if he promised to stay away from the election.”
“Even though she hates him?” Allison asked.
“That’s right.”
Allison nodded. “Okay. She was worth it.”
Like he didn’t know that already.
“I think we shouldn’t say anything.” Ram peeked out the window again. “Folks around here know the paper’s reputation. They probably won’t believe anything they read there. If you say anything, it’ll just add fuel to the fire.”
“That’s all true, Ram, but you know that Tadeson will jump all over this.” Allison tapped her pen against the printout. “After Cole has spent the past months harping about honesty and transparency, Tadeson will have a field day with these allegations.”
“So we have to switch to playing defense.” Cole rubbed the back of his head.
“I think we need Jenna in on this,” Allison said. “We prepare a statement for her—”
“Saying what?” Ram asked. “That Cole had no idea who she is?”
“Not exactly.”
Allison stretched out the words in a way that had Cole looking up sharply.
“No.”
“No what?” Allison asked. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re thinking of setting her up to take the fall. You want her to say that she hid her identity or something, don’t you?”
Allison bit down on her lip but said nothing.
“I’ve put her through enough.” Cole kept his words low but firm. “She’s been nothing but aboveboard and honest from the start. There is no way in hell that I’m going to do that to her.”
“Fine.”
It was clear that Allison was irked, but Cole knew she would go along with him. Just like he was ninety percent sure she wouldn’t have gone through with sacrificing Jenna anyway. She was too decent for that.
Still, even ten percent was more of a chance than he was willing to accept.
“But we can ask her to tell the part that’s true,” he said. “That she wasn’t discussing anything about the election with her father, or she wasn’t gathering his advice, or however you want to phrase it.”
Allison typed something into her phone. “That would help.”
“You said she isn’t planning to move until after Christmas?” Ram asked.
Cole nodded.
“Okay,” Ram paced to the next window. “We should include something like that. Make it sound like she was taking advantage of the time she had left in town to reconnect with her—”
“She’ll never say that.” Cole imagined the look in Jenna’s eyes if they presented her with a statement that implied she had any desire to rekindle anything with Rob. The kid from The Exorcist came to mind. “You’ll have to word it differently. Maybe say there were issues they needed to discuss, or something like that. But nothing that will make anyone think she wants anything to do with him, or she’ll laugh in your face and refuse to say anything.”
Allison frowned. “But it would—”
“No.” Cole set his coffee on the desk with a sharp crack. “I won’t ask her to lie. Especially not about that.”
Silence hung in the room. Allison seemed startled, as if she was just now seeing something in him that she had never noticed before.
And then she grinned.
“What?” he asked.
Allison sat back in the chair, far too satisfied for Cole’s comfort. “You’re in love with her.”
What?
“You’re out of your—” he began, but she leaned forward, one finger pointing at him in the classic Mom pose.
“I knew there was something between you two. Everyone did. But I thought you were just, you know. Having some fun together. I was wrong.”
“No, I’m pretty sure you were right.”
But was she?
Cole thought about the weekend in Brockport. About that moment when he watched her sleep and promised himself he wasn’t going to let her slip away. When he decided that simple distance wasn’t going to bring a halt to something that he knew could be so much stronger if they gave it a chance.
“Cole. Breathe.” Allison reached across the desk and patted his hand. “For one thing, I’m happy for you.”
“But—”
“And for another, this could be the way out. You get yourself to a jeweler, you pop the question, you have a press conference and introduce her as your fiancé, and everyone will be so blown away that—”
“Allison, shut up.”
If he hadn’t been so overwhelmed, he would have laughed at the stunned expression on Allison’s face. In the words of his very English grandmother, she looked completely gobsmacked.
“I’m sorry,” he said, more gently this time. “That was out of line. But I can’t . . . Look. Maybe another time, another place, but now . . . This was just supposed to be temporary. Even if I . . . even if we wanted it to be permanent, that wouldn’t be the way to do it. Rushing things . . . well. It’s not like we really had a chance, you know?” He attempted a gentle smile. ”And you kind of glossed over the part where I said she broke it off.”
Allison slumped in her chair. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I should never have suggested it.”
Behind him, he heard a small but unmistakable sigh of relief from Ram.
“Forget it,” Cole said. “We all got caught up in the moment. So, that’s out of the way, and we can shake our heads at how stupid we were, and move on.”
“Sounds good.” Ram moved to lean against the desk. “But we still haven’t figured out what moving on entails.”
No, they hadn’t.
But Cole had a feeling that it wasn’t going to be pretty.
***
Jenna was in class when she got the e-mail.
She’d been ignoring her phone all morning. The rush of calls and texts—including an all-caps one from her mother—was too much, too fast. She needed to focus on something solid and familiar and safe. Something that had absolutely nothing to do with the election. Something that had nothing to do with Cole.
The fact that she found it almost impossible to push him from her radar wasn’t lost on her. She couldn’t keep from wondering if he was okay. If Allison was giving him hell. If he was being similarly besieged.
If he, like she, was entertaining wild fantasies about hopping in the car and heading north and not stopping until the car needed gas.
And—if he were having those kinds of wishes—if his fantasy included her.
Not that Bree was right, of course. This wasn’t love. She had been in love with Kendall, much as it pained her to admit, and that was nothing like what she felt for Cole. Totally different. With Kendall, she had happily abandoned all other plans and hopes to be with him. She hadn’t cared that he wanted her to leave school and build her life around him and him alone. He had been such an overwhelming kind of guy that it had been easy to see there wasn’t room for two trajectories in their marriage. And he had been so all-consuming that it had just felt right to put him at the center of her life. He was smart and funny and successful, a self-made millionaire who could make her melt with a smile and who made her feel pampered and safe. Who wouldn’t have fallen for him?
But what she felt for Cole . . . no. Totally different. Totally quieter and . . . okay, more balanced. And maybe more equal. And God knows she had always felt like she had room to breathe with him, except for those moments when he was stealing every breath and every sensation and every thought.
Still, it would be nice to know that he was okay . . .
But she knew how to be strong. She tamped down the desire to check in with him, sent her mother a quick message that all was fine, and silenced her phone. She had a future to focus on. None of this mattered. Not in the long run.
But the class—ironically, in media ethics—was her least favorite. And her phone hadn’t vibrated for a long time. And the professor forgot her laptop, so had to zip out for a couple of minutes.
Jenna yielded to temptation. Because what if it was Cole? What if he were checking in on her, the way she wanted to do for him? She couldn’t leave him worrying.
Except the e-mail wasn’t from Cole.
Dear Ms. Carpenter, we regret to inform you . . .
Her stomach dropped. Her fingers grew slippery. She almost dropped the phone.
. . . no longer able to offer you the position . . . wish you the best of luck in your future.
Her future. Right.
She shoved her phone deep into her bag, stared blankly in front of her, and wondered when the hell future had become a dirty word.
***
No sooner had Jenna dragged herself up the stairs to the apartment than Kyrie opened her bedroom door. Jenna braced herself, ready for one of the hugs that Kyrie insisted could fix almost everything.
Instead, she found her arm being grabbed as Kyrie whirled her back toward the entry.
“Come on,” Kyrie said. “I have my orders.”
“Wait. What do— Kyr, let go. I don’t want to—”
“You don’t want to go anywhere. I know. Margie said you would say that.”
“Margie?” Okay, now this was starting to make sense. “Look, sweetie. I’m sure Margie means well, but I already had a drunkfest last night and—”
“Family Council.”
Shit. A social request could be ignored. But Family Council? Only if she were willing to risk imminent dismemberment—or, worse, have the entire clan descend upon her in her bedroom.
Her twinkle lights would never survive the onslaught.
“Can I pee first?”
“Nope.”
“Kyr, come on! This time of night, it’ll take fifteen minutes to get there, and you know Annie will be hogging the bathroom. My back teeth are floating.”
Kyrie tilted her head slightly, obviously debating the wisdom of avoiding the Wrath of Mom against violating the Geneva Convention.
“Fine,” she said at last. “You have two minutes. I’m waiting right outside the door, so don’t try anything funny.”
“Right,” Jenna tossed over her shoulder as she headed for the bathroom. “Because it’s so easy to escape from a windowless second-floor bathroom. Especially with a bum leg.”
“Don’t play the cripple card, Jenna. It doesn’t suit you. Now, move it. Mom expected us ten minutes ago.”
Sure enough, as soon as Jenna closed and locked the door, she heard the muted tones of Kyrie’s phone as a message was tapped out. Jenna dragged herself to the mirror and stared into it.
Shit.
Okay, she’d lied. She didn’t need to do anything in this bathroom except regroup. But after the day she’d had, she was pretty sure that a minute of privacy was allowed, especially if she was to be dragged off to Family Council.
Really, she should have seen this coming. Bree probably called Mom as soon as she walked out of her apartment that morning. It was a miracle they weren’t making Paige come home from Scotland.
Because Jenna knew that Paige wouldn’t hesitate to come, if things were bad enough. Just like Jenna would hop in the car, no questions asked, and drive home from wherever if Mom were to request her presence at a meeting to help one of her sisters.
Not that she was likely to have to worry about that now, thanks to her new name having been splashed by her father’s mud. But still. She would.
“I just hate being the reason for the meeting,” she whispered to the mirror.
“Who are you talking to?” Kyrie demanded from the other side of the door. “Are you plotting an escape?”
“Of all the . . . no.” Jenna flushed the toilet for the sake of appearance, ran her hands under the water, and opened the door, shaking her wet hands in Kyrie’s face. “There. Satisfied?”
Kyrie shrieked and raised her hands against the drops. Jenna grinned for the first time in hours.
“Serves you right for eavesdropping.”
No surprise, Kyrie didn’t say a word as they descended the steps and got into her car. Because, oh yes, she had to drive.
“In case I decide to make a break for it?” Jenna asked as she fastened her seat belt. “In case I happened to be stupid enough to think I could avoid Mom and Margie?”
“In case you were too upset to drive, idiot.”
Oh.
“I drove myself to class today. And home. Safely both ways, I might add.” Yes, even after the job bomb, she had stayed focused. It had helped that she’d driven the route more times than she could remember, but still. Jenna fully believed in giving credit where it was due, and damn it, if anyone deserved a Safe Driver award today, it was her.
“I know.” Kyrie sounded a little less irritated. “And honestly, I would have been fine with you going on your own, but you know Mom. She’s never going to feel okay about you being in a car in less than ideal conditions ever again.”
Yeah. Jenna could see that. To tell the truth, it was kind of heartwarming.
“I think I’m having an attack of the warm fuzzies,” she said softly.
Kyrie reached over and gave her hand a brief squeeze. “Enjoy it while you can. Margie will take care of that soon enough.”
***
Cole sat at his desk, staring at the blank computer screen. The cursor insisted on blinking at him in a constant rhythm that echoed his thoughts.
You love her . . . you love her . . . you love her . . .
All through the day, he kept coming back to Allison’s delighted exclamation. It pulsed through him in the background as he made himself go for a run, read some case files, brainstormed ways to respond to the article. It was always there. Steady. Constant. Just like the damned cursor.
You love her . . . you love her . . . you love her . . .
His rational mind kept saying it was impossible. Not this fast. He’d known Meredith for years before he felt certain enough to pop the question.
And yet, given how that had ended, maybe his hesitancy had been less due to giving love time to grow and more like the next logical step.
Jenna, he typed. And yeah. There it was. The grin he couldn’t quite suppress at the sight of her name. Even knowing that she wanted nothing more to do with him, the simple thought of her made his world lighter. Brighter. More hopeful.
That sounded a lot like love to him.
The grin slipped away. Pushed aside by the panic clogging his throat, no doubt.
And the damned cursor kept on beating.
***
Sitting at her mother’s dining room table, surrounded by all but one of the women she loved best in the world, Jenna had a pretty good idea how it felt to be a chimpanzee in the zoo. She hadn’t had this many eyes watching her every move since she woke up in the hospital and asked what happened.
“You all realize I’m going to be okay, right?” She clasped her hands in front of her, hoping to reassure them. “I’ve gone through worse than this in my life. I’ll survive.”
“We know that,” Margie said. “Wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”
“So why the big hoopla, with a Council and everything?”
“Because you might have made it through worse situations, but they’ve never been so public.” Bree’s face softened. “There are going to be repercussions.”
“There already were. I lost the job.”
“What job?” Margie edged forward in her chair. “The one with Cole’s election? We knew that.”
“No,” Jenna said. “One in Brockport. They made an offer yesterday. Today, they took it back.”
“Today, after your new name was in the paper,” Annie said. Jenna nodded. Bree let loose with a string of curses that left all of them staring at her, silent and slack-jawed.
“What?” Bree said. “You think I don’t know those words?”
“We knew that you knew them,” Neenee said. “I just don’t think I’ve ever heard them being put to such . . . such creative use before.”
“That’s because you weren’t in the room when I found out that Ken Doll was dumping Jenna.” Bree seemed very pleased with herself. “Though I have to admit, half of it that time was celebratory because she was finally going to be rid of the miserable prick.”
“Mom, Bree said prick,” Annie said.
Neenee waved it away. “Hush. I’m waiting to see what comes out of her mouth next.”
It was so ridiculous, so typically Elias family, that Jenna couldn’t help but laugh. And if her laughter went on a little too long and was a little too loud, well, it was just them. Her family, who had always been there for her.
Her family, who she might not be leaving soon after all.
As consolation prizes went, a girl could do worse.
“They shouldn’t have done that,” Neenee said. “But if they were willing to throw you to the wolves after one newspaper article without even asking to hear your side, then really, you’re better off not working there.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“You’re well rid of them.” Bree, ever practical, was already tapping something into her phone. “But we can find—”
“Bree. Honey. I appreciate it, but I don’t think. . . . this probably isn’t the best time to send out my résumé, you know?”
“Horse puckies,” Margie thumped her bottle on the table. “This is the perfect time. You’ll be able to see what a place is made of. Whether they’ll stand behind you and your ability, or whether they’ll run at the first sign of trouble.”
“Yeah, like a certain candidate for mayor who couldn’t dump you off his team fast enough,” Annie said.
Oh no. Jenna might be thoroughly pissed at Cole, but she couldn’t let him be raked over the coals for something that wasn’t his fault. “That part is okay. We always agreed that if my presence ever became a problem, I would disappear.”
“Which is exactly what you should have said,” Annie replied. “But then he was supposed to go out there and tell everyone that you are you, not your father, and that he trusts you and believes in you.”
Kyrie nodded. “He should have stood up for you.”
“Yeah. Letting you take the heat like that, sweeping you under the rug . . . that was pretty damned slimy of him.” Bree stared out the window. “He should have known that this family has no patience for men who make a mess and then leave others to pick up the pieces.”
Jenna squirmed. Everything they were saying sounded right, at least on the surface. Everything they were saying was nothing more than a variation of things she had thought over the last day. And yet . . .
And yet, she knew it wasn’t like that. That he wasn’t pulling a Rob. He hadn’t bailed without warning, hadn’t tried to deceive her, hadn’t tried to do anything she wouldn’t have done except find a way for them to stay together. It had been wrong and misguided and stupid, but it had come from a good place. From a good heart.
And in return, she had pounced on it as an excuse to end things now. Just like Bree had said.
“Oh, hell,” she said out loud.
“What?” Neenee frowned at her. “You look like you just remembered something you would rather forget.”
“I kind of did.” Jenna glanced around the table. “Guys? I need to talk to Mom for a minute. Just us.”
“The hell you— Oof.” Margie grabbed her side where Bree’s elbow seemed to have made contact.
“We’re going upstairs,” Kyrie announced. “But I can’t guarantee how long.”
“Five minutes,” Annie said as she shooed the others out. “I’m setting the timer on my phone. After that, everything is fair game.”
Jenna would have expected no less from someone who made her living herding small children.
As soon as the thunder of feet on the aging steps faded away, Jenna turned to Neenee, who reached out and covered Jenna’s hands with her own.
“We don’t have a lot of time,” Neenee said. “So let’s cut to the chase. I know you’re in love with Cole.”
“Did Bree tell you?”
“She didn’t have to. When you started defending him against your sisters, that was all it took. But something has you scared.”
“I think I know what it is. But I have to ask you something. About—”
“About your father?”
Jenna nodded. Neenee’s grip tightened.
“If you’re wondering if I knew what he was doing, the answer is no. None of it. I did have some idea that there were money problems near the end, but never to the extent that it turned out to be.”
“That’s not what I was going to ask. I figured you wouldn’t have gone along with it. But what I was wondering is . . . if he had come to you and said, ‘Hey, I screwed up and cost you the one thing you wanted most, but I still want us to be together somehow’ . . . would you have done it? Would you have stuck with him?”
“Jenna, there’s a big difference between your father’s crimes and . . . whatever it is that Cole might have done. Which, as far as I can see, is really nothing. Unless there’s something that you haven’t mentioned, in which case I might have to kill him.”
“He wanted to hide me away. Get me out of the office, stop seeing each other until after the election, and then, you know.” She breathed in deeply. “Carry on.”
“You mean when it’s convenient for him?” Neenee’s eyes snapped. “I might have to let your sisters loose on him after all.”
“Bree thinks he did it because he was scared. Not about losing the election but because he was getting in too deep and he knew that was the one thing I couldn’t accept.”
“Oh.”
“And, um . . . Bree also suggested that I might have been scared, too. And that it might have made me just a little quick to go all sanctimonious on him.”
“Do you think Bree is right?”
“I don’t know.” Confusion lodged in Jenna’s throat. “Maybe.”
Neenee sat back, hands steepled, index fingers tapping slowly together in a posture Jenna knew only too well. It meant her mother was thinking.
It rarely ended well for the person on the other end of those thoughts.
“So you got heartbroken and pissed off because Cole wanted to hide you away like a dirty secret.”
“And lie to the voters.”
Neenee waved the words away. “Please, Jenna. You don’t give a rat’s ass about the voters and you know it. That’s just your noble excuse.”
“No it’s . . .” Honesty forced her to hesitate.
Neenee leveled one finger at her. “Bam.”
“I do care. Okay, not so much about the voters, but a little bit, I swear. The thing is . . . deliberately lying to them. That worries me.”
“Because you’re afraid the next step is that he’ll lie to you.”
And there it was. Cold and rough and raw.
“Yeah.” It was probably the hardest word she had ever uttered. “Yeah, Mom. I think that’s it.”
“Jenna, I can’t look in his heart and tell you what’s in there. Can’t predict the future, either, though let me tell you, if anyone should have had the right to do that, it’s me. But here’s what I do—well, not know, but suspect.”
Jenna leaned forward.
“I think people will do incredibly stupid things when they’re afraid. Especially when they’re afraid that they’re going to lose the things they love most. I know your father has told you all that he ran because he thought it would be easier if you thought he was dead, but I don’t believe that for a minute. I think he was terrified that we couldn’t forgive him. That we wouldn’t wait for him. And so he decided to leave on his terms.”
Which sounded terrifyingly similar to what Jenna herself might have done.
And yet . . .
“I guess maybe I don’t like feeling like I’m something someone should be ashamed of.” Her words came out low, muffled by the hurt clogging her throat.
“Interesting, since that’s the way you’ve been treating yourself.”
“What?”
“Oh, don’t act so shocked. Look at what you’ve done. You changed your name. You fixed your sights on working where no one would know you. You refused to list any of the work you did when you were with Kendall on your résumé.”
“But those aren’t because of me! They’re all because I don’t want anyone to associate me with—”
“I know. And I understand. But Jenna, like it or not, your father and Kendall are part of you. One was a mistake and one was something over which you had no control, but they’re in your history. You can’t delete them like the browser history on your computer.”
“That’s for sure. Thanks to that stupid article—”
“Oh, Jenna, for the love of God, give it up.”
Well. So much for nurturing advice.
“Your sisters are going to come back any minute now, so let’s get this straight. Yes, you have had to deal with some massive crap from the two most important men in your life. But as far as I can tell, no one ever left you alone with five little kids, massive medical and legal bills, and nowhere to go.”
No. No, there was that.
“Life sucked for a long time for me, Jenna, but the one thing I had, besides you girls and Margie, was the knowledge that I was still worthy. I may have been foolish and trusted the wrong person, but you know what? I didn’t commit those crimes. I wasn’t guilty. And if the worst I had ever done was to love and trust someone who turned out to be a royal bastard, well, the only way that would be unforgivable would be if I let myself do it again.”
“But Mom—”
“No buts, Jenna. You made mistakes. You screwed up. But you didn’t do anything criminal or despicable, so for God’s sake, stop punishing yourself.”
“All I wanted was a fresh start.”
“So make one.”
“But how? I can’t get away from it now. Three minutes on Google and anyone can find out who I really am.”
“Then go out there and do something that will amaze people. Something new, something from you, so that when people look you up they’ll see what you’ve been doing. Not your father, not your ex, not the guy who wanted to keep seeing you. You.”
“Oh my God.” Jenna’s mouth sagged. “He said the same thing.”
“Who? Cole?”
“No.” Jenna braced her hands on the table. “Dad.”
Neenee’s mouth sagged. For a second, Jenna thought her mother was on the verge of tears.
“Huh,” she said, low and wondering. “We always were on the same page when it came to you girls.”
But as quick as it had hit, the moment passed. Neenee squared her shoulders and looked Jenna straight in the eye.
“You have a choice, Jenna. You can let the actions of two lousy men keep dictating your life.” She leaned forward. “Or you can say ‘screw them’ and make your name your own.”