If, back in June, someone had told Cole that there would come a day when he would be happy to see Robert Elias walk into his final campaign event, he would have choked on air and recommended that the person making the suggestion take a Breathalyzer test. Yet here he was, shaking hands and answering questions and sneaking peeks at the door every other second.
He had to get a grip. These folks deserved his full attention.
But if Jenna refused to listen to Rob . . .
If she refused to believe him . . .
If she didn’t want anything to do with Cole after he basically gave her the light version of the treatment she had received from the two most important men in her life . . .
“Hi there.” He gripped the hand being extended toward him, smiling at the small elderly woman standing in front of him. “Cole Dekker. Thanks for coming out today.”
“I know who you are,” the woman said, and there was a hint of steel in her voice that had him standing straighter, gripping her hand slightly more forcefully. “Though I must say,” she continued, “you’ve changed more than I have since we last met.”
He took a step back. Squinted. And felt his Serous Politician face being replaced by something a lot more middle-school-ish.
“Mrs. Cowburn?”
She laughed and patted his arm. “I think that you can call me Betty at this point.”
“Wow. Bet—” Nope. He couldn’t do it. He might be all grown-up, but he could not call his sixth-grade English teacher by her first name. “If I say long time no see, will you mark me down for using a cliché?”
“In this case I might be convinced to let it slide.”
“It’s so good to see you. What are you doing these days?”
“As little as possible,” she said, and laughed lightly before launching into a quick catch-up of the last twenty years. Cole had always known that teachers could pack more into a day than most people did in a week, but by the time Mrs. Cowburn finished, he felt like he’d watched a mashup of the lives of Einstein, Shatner, and the last three popes.
“And you still found time to come here tonight and listen to me? I’m honored.”
“Yes, you are,” she replied without batting an eyelash. “But after the paper printed those ridiculous insinuations, I couldn’t stay away. You need to know that many, many people support you.”
“Thank you.” The words seemed so small in comparison to the gratitude flowing through him, but he trusted that she could hear beyond the words.
“Paul Tadeson was a good mayor, but he’s become too comfortable.” Mrs. Cowburn shook her head. “It’s time for someone new to take over. Someone with lots of ideas and nothing to hide.”
And that, of course, was the moment when the room went still. Every head turned toward the door, where Rob waved with all the dignity of the Queen.
Mrs. Cowburn reared back. Not much. But it was enough to send Cole tumbling into the past.
“Mr. Dekker,” she began, and Cole braced himself for her to add, Do I need to call your mother?
But either Mrs. Cowburn had mellowed over the years, or fate had decided that Cole deserved a break this time. For at that moment, Jenna appeared in the door.
Cole had never known that it was possible to be both elated and terrified at the same moment. Now he did. Because even though Jenna was in the building, she didn’t look happy.
If she had simply been wearing the mix of hurt and anger that usually accompanied her doings with her father, Cole would have understood. But that wasn’t the case this time. Her shoulders were hunched and her eyes darted around the room. She looked . . . smaller, almost. Like she was pulling herself in.
Like she was scared.
The truth was slow to register because he had never seen her this way before. But once it hit him, it was as if someone had reached deep inside him, grabbed hold of his gut, and yanked.
Jenna didn’t get scared. This was the woman who had faced down her father and tossed him out of the coffee shop. This was the woman who had sat in front of him, spelled out exactly why it would be a bad idea for him to let her work with him, then asked him to do it anyway. This was the woman who had corrected Allison on fundraising and jumped him after the primary and marched confidently into an interview.
But now someone had her wrapping her arms around herself and pushing her hair behind her ear. Someone had her stopping in the door, like a swimmer at the edge of a semi-frozen pond.
Some bastard had done this to her.
The bile rising in his throat told him that he didn’t need to look far to find out who was behind her fear.
He didn’t know he had taken a step toward her until a soft but freakishly strong hand fastened on his arm. “Oh no, you don’t,” said Mrs. Cowburn. “She has to do this herself.”
He knew Jenna couldn’t have heard the words. But no sooner had Mrs. Cowburn spoken than Jenna seemed to have received the message. She glanced around the room once more. Then, to Cole’s amazement, she looked at Rob.
And smiled.
It wasn’t what anyone would call a hey, good to see you kind of grin. It was steelier than that. More forced. Like a gauntlet had been tossed and she was gearing herself up to accept it.
Then her shoulders went back, her chin snapped up, and her eyes sparked. She gave her arms the little wiggle she usually did after setting down a heavy tray, tucked her tiny purse under her arm, and walked into the room. Straight to Allison, watching from near the microphones with a look of fond exasperation.
Pride rushed through Cole.
The grip on his arm relaxed. “You know,” said Mrs. Cowburn, “it takes a strong woman to push past her fear.”
“Amen to that.”
“But it takes a smart woman to make sure everyone knows that she gives zero fucks about what they might think of her.”
***
Jenna kept her eyes straight ahead as she made her way to Allison, the crowd parting before her like she was Moses. Or a leper.
Nah. This was her story. Moses worked.
Every atom inside her wanted to go straight to Cole, but she had to play this right. Cole was the candidate but Allison was running the show. She deserved the courtesy of being addressed first.
Not only that, but if Jenna received Allison’s blessing, folks would be more lenient about her and Cole. Anyone could dismiss a man accepting a woman as a sex thing. But add a smart, driven boss-lady to the mix, and there was a whole different level of respect at play.
“I had a feeling you would be here,” Allison said as soon as Jenna was within earshot.
“I was invited.”
“Your chauffeur?” Allison inclined her head toward Rob, hovering somewhere in the background.
“For the moment. Also by invitation. Not mine.”
Allison seemed to ponder that for a second before nodding sharply. “Well. That may turn out to be the most boneheaded move of the entire race, but on the other hand, go big or go home, right?”
“That seems to be the intention.”
At last, Jenna let herself look toward Cole. He bent slightly at the waist, talking to a woman who could have been the model for a Keebler Elf, and anyone else would think that he was unaware of all the others in the room. But Jenna knew. She saw the tiny tilt of his head. She could almost feel the shift in his hips, as if he were being gently but surely tugged by an invisible thread.
She was pretty sure that the other end of the thread was looped around her heart.
What she would give to make all these people disappear so she could go to him and wrap her arms around him and tell him she understood, she was sorry, she hoped to God he might be up for a second chance . . .
“It’s time for him to speak.” Allison tapped her tablet. “I’m going to drag him away from the Sugar Plum Granny. Want me to give him a message?”
“Tell him . . .” How to put it all into a handful of words? “Tell him I’m glad I’m here.”
“Got it.” Elbows flying, Allison dove through the crowd. Jenna was pretty sure she shouldn’t be near the front when Cole started to speak, so she drifted toward the back, stopping to trade a few words with Ram and Tim.
The eyes of the audience were still on her. She could feel them. But while the curiosity was there in abundance, for the first time she didn’t sense any disapproval.
Maybe because the only one who had really disapproved of her actions and her associations had been her.
Slowly and deliberately, she made her way to Rob, who leaned casually against the back wall with his arms crossed.
“Any idea what’s happening?” he asked when she stopped in front of him.
“There’s going to be a speech.”
He rolled his eyes. “Bree doesn’t have to worry about you taking her place as the smart one.”
“If you’re trying to butter me up so I’ll put in a good word for you with her, you can save your breath.”
Rob jerked his chin. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Jenna took the bit of wall beside him, her gaze locked on Cole as he moved to the microphone. “You know this doesn’t mean anything has changed. Between you and me, I mean.”
He nodded. “Course not.” He inclined his head toward the front of the room. “And you know he’s not going to stop at being mayor, right? His sights are set on other places. Albany, at the very least.”
Was she surprised to hear it? Not if she was being honest. Since that seemed to be the theme of the night, she stayed silent.
“It’s a hell of a ride that he’ll be taking. He’ll be asking a lot of you.” Rob shot a sideways glance in her direction. “If you don’t think you’re up to it, I advise you get out now.”
She wanted to snap out a retort, to remind him that he had lost the right to give her advice a long time ago. But even if she wasn’t the smart one, she still knew that there was no glory in cutting off her nose to spite her face. “I can handle it.”
“I know you can. The question is, do you want to?”
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
His nod was slow and approving. “Good answer.”
Cole stepped to the microphone, looked out into the audience, and smiled, waiting for the buzz of conversation to stop.
“Good evening,” he said. Unhurried. In command. With all the confidence of someone who hadn’t had a pack of lies about him plastered across the front page just two days ago.
Dear Lord, but she loved him.
“And by the way,” Rob said, close to her ear, “even though nothing’s changed, I gotta say it’s been nice talking to you without your claws.”
***
Cole gave the audience another moment. They seemed to have lots to say tonight. Fine by him. He had all the time in the world.
He probably should have been nervous. This was his last official appearance before the election. His last chance to sway people.
Except he really didn’t feel that way. If people didn’t know who to vote for by this point, it was probably going to come down to a coin toss.
No. In his mind, this was his best chance to set the record straight. To let people see the real Cole, mistakes and all. To let them know how he would handle the inevitable screwups, and why they should give him a shot anyway. Most of all, though, it was a chance to let everyone see that the things he’d said about truth and transparency were more than just a campaign slogan.
He waited, and watched, and let himself look to the back of the room, to where Jenna stood beside her father. He knew people were slightly freaked by Rob’s presence. Hell, the reporter from the Loser had practically wet his pants when Rob walked in.
Let them think what they wanted. Cole knew the truth. If they didn’t want to believe it, then he wasn’t the right man for this town after all.
“Good evening,” he said once again, and the audience quieted. He smiled out at them. “I want to thank you all for coming this evening. I hear there’s supposed to be some real surprises on Shark Tank tonight, so I promise to do my best to get you out of here in time to see the excitement.”
Over in the corner, Allison flashed him a discreet thumbs-up.
“With that in mind, let me get right to the topic I’m sure a lot of you are wondering about right now, and that’s the article that appeared in the Calypso Falls Leader.”
Thank God he hadn’t slipped and called it the Loser.
“I think it’s pretty safe to assume that most, if not all of you, are familiar with the story they printed. I think it’s also pretty safe to assume that anyone who read that article would be left with the strong impression that I have some kind of connection to Robert Elias—a man who many would say is about as far removed from my message of truth and transparency as is possible.”
Murmurs filled the room. More than one person glanced toward the back, at Rob, who stood with his arms crossed and his expression impassive.
If Jenna knew how much her posture and expression mirrored that of her father, she would probably croak.
“I am not here tonight to discuss Rob’s history. That’s been hashed over many times. I’m here to give you folks the facts about my connections to him, and then you can make your own decisions.”
Cole glanced at Tim, who seemed to look a little white around the gills all of a sudden. Hmmm. Might have to take him out for a drink after this.
Unless, of course, the gods decided to smile on Cole and give him somewhere else to go after this speech . . .
“But I need to begin by clearing up one very important item. The article implied that I was trying to hide Jenna Elias Carpenter’s identity. That I was trying to conceal her presence on my team. Unfortunately, that is exactly what I did.”
It was as if he had set a hive of killer bees loose in the fire station. That was the best possible comparison to the buzz of voices.
He gave them a moment, deliberately forcing himself to look anywhere but at Jenna. He was pretty sure that if he let himself glance her way, he wouldn’t be able to get through the rest of his speech.
“Here’s the thing, folks. There were many people—myself included—who thought this was the best course to take. We had good reasons, we thought, not the least of them being Ms. Carpenter’s right to privacy. Because the thing is that no matter what Robert Elias did, those were his crimes. Not those of the daughter he hadn’t seen for over twenty years. And nobody deserves to be judged by acts committed by her parent when she was barely school age.”
He saw more than a few heads bowing at that one. Heard more than a few feet shuffling.
“But no matter how pure our intentions, it was wrong of us—of me—to try to keep her hidden, and let me tell you why. Because it meant that when it was uncovered, her presence became the focus of interest, shifting the spotlight off of the issues that should be the true reason for our conversations. Because it means I didn’t trust you, the voters, to be able to look beyond a name. Most of all, because it implies that we—that I—was ashamed of her in some way. The fact is, folks, Jenna Elias Carpenter has been a savvy and dedicated member of the team, and I couldn’t be prouder of her and the contribution she made to our efforts.”
A smattering of applause followed those words. He would have preferred a standing ovation, but he would take what he could get.
“As for Rob Elias and my connection to him,” he went on, and proceeded to list each and every interaction, from the time he helped Jenna escort the man from the coffee shop right through to today’s phone call. He kept a close watch on faces as he spoke. Some still seemed dubious. Some nodded thoughtfully. Some smiled.
Mrs. Cowburn gave him a thumbs-up.
“And as for the supposed secret meetings between Ms. Carpenter and her father, let me point out a couple of things. First, Ms. Carpenter met with her father as part of a deal she made with him. Breakfast once a week in exchange for him staying away from me and my events for the duration of the campaign. Second, these are two smart people. If they were trying to have secret meetings, don’t you think they would have chosen someplace other than McDonald’s?”
Good. People laughed. Laughter could woo them into his corner.
“Third, this is a father and daughter who have not seen each other in many years. It’s probably safe to think that they would have many things to discuss. And fourth—and most important of all—while I was not at these get-togethers, Ms. Carpenter has assured me that she never discussed the election or my campaign activities with her father. I believe her. Not just because I want to, but because she has never given me any reason to not believe her.”
That got a bit more applause, a few more nods. Not a huge response, but the audience was with him. He saw it in their faces and felt it in his bones. Which meant it was time to wrap this up. Now, while they were on his side.
But while his closing remarks were intended for everyone, there was only one face he wanted to see as he made them.
“So that’s it, my friends. I am truly sorry for not trusting you enough to know that you could see beyond names. I hope you will forgive me for not being honest with you from the start. I trust that you will understand that sometimes . . .”
He paused and let himself drink in the sight of Jenna, still hovering by the door. Her hands were clasped in front of her and her eyes were wide and encouraging, and her lips were softly parted as if she were about to whisper something slightly off-color.
It was time to speak his truth.
“I hope you will understand, my friends, that sometimes, a man will make some wrong turns in the hope that they will bring him closer to the woman he loves.”
***
The trouble with amazing, life-changing romantic gestures was that no one ever told you what to do when they were over.
Jenna was yanked from her bubble of joy and disbelief—He loves me! He loves me!—by a firm hand gripping her arm and pulling her out of the room.
“Wait,” she said, but she might as well not have bothered. Rob—for, yes, it was her father pulling her down the hall—merely tightened his grip.
“I thought he had more brains than that,” Rob muttered, and something about the fierceness in his words made Jenna snap back to reality and dig in her heels.
“More brains than what?” she demanded. “Than to admit to his mistakes and stand by someone he loves?”
“Oh, for God’s— Jenna. He had that speech all prepared. He’s had time to get ready for the questions and the comments. Do you really want to say anything to the newspaper right now?”
Shit. “I hate it when you’re right,” she said, shaking off his arm and hurrying toward the exit.
“Lucky for you it doesn’t happen very often.”
She stopped. Turned. And for the first time in over twenty years, she laughed out loud at something her father had said.
***
Two hours later—two hours of showering, pacing, changing clothes, chasing Kyrie away, ordering her mother to stop calling, and checking out the window every thirty seconds—Jenna finally heard the door buzzer.
“You know the code,” she said into the speaker. “Why are you wasting time down there?”
“Because I want to be sure you don’t have a frying pan in your hand, ready to slam me over the head.”
“That’s a pretty stupid answer, Dekker.”
“How about this one: I want to know if your sister is home, so I know how many clothes I can take off before I reach the top of the stairs?”
She leaned on the entry buzzer so long and hard that it could probably be heard in the next county.
He climbed the stairs far too slowly for her, but when she caught sight of his bare chest and his shirt slung over his shoulder, she forgave him all.
“Hi,” he said when he reached the top.
“Hi.” Seriously? Did she have to get in touch with her shy side now? “I was starting to think you might not show up tonight.”
“I had to answer a lot of questions. It seems that when you drop a bomb at the end of a speech, people want to know everything. And take your picture.” He frowned. “If I had known how many people would want to have their picture taken with me tonight, I would have worn—”
His words came to an abrupt halt. Probably because she couldn’t wait any longer and dive-bombed him.
The kiss started off tentative, searching. Then his shirt hit the floor and his arms locked around her and the happy joy bubble appeared once more.
“I love you,” she said when she came up for air. “I didn’t get to say it like you did, but I love you. So much that I still can’t believe it’s real. And I am so sorry for being such an idiot and getting pissed off when you wanted to find a way to stay together, but I was so scared, and it all just—”
It was probably a good thing that he kissed her then. She was on the verge of babbling all her secrets, and really, that would be horrible when there were so many better ways to use her time.
“I got nervous when you disappeared,” he said against her neck. “One minute you were there and then you were gone, and I thought maybe I had scared you off.”
“You can blame my father for that one. He dragged me out while I was still processing what you said.”
“You mean when I said that I love you?”
The happy joy bubble was suddenly lodged in her chest. She had to breathe hard to get the words around it.
“Do you have any idea how amazing it is to hear those words now, when it’s just us? When I don’t have to share you and don’t have to think about anyone but you and me?”
His hands slid down her back, molding her to him as they went. “Oh, hell yeah.”
“I know you weren’t trying to hide anything,” she said. “Not in a sneaky, deceptive way, I mean.”
“Actually, I think I might have been.”
Funny. He didn’t sound at all apologetic.
“Are you going to take the Fifth?” she asked.
“Nope. I screwed up, and I’m not going to try to hide that. But I’m also going to cut myself some slack. It seems that when I think about not being with you, my sense flies out the window.”
“Oh, that is a dilemma.” She slipped her thumbs into the waistband of his trousers. “We’ll just have to make sure it never happens again.”
“What, me losing my marbles?”
“No. Us being separated.”
“Yeah. About that . . . I was thinking.”
She kissed the spot right above his heart. “Are you sure you want to be thinking right now?”
“For this I can.”
Something in his voice had her pause, lift her head, search out his eyes.
He smiled and took her hand. “I think I have a solution to that not-being-together thing. And it’ll help with your problems with your name, too.”
Her heart thumped hard against her chest. “Cole—”
“See, I figure that if you’ve changed your name a few times already, you might be okay with doing it once more. Jenna Dekker sounds pretty good to me.”