I’d promised myself I would never be that desperate girl again, willing to do anything to be loved. But . . . I rubbed my abdomen. This wasn’t about me. A small, precious life was at stake. A life I had to be strong for. A baby I would have to be both mother and father to. I would show my baby what real love was. I didn’t need Brock for that. All I needed was his name. I would play John’s wicked game. However, I wasn’t going to lose myself or my dignity while doing it. Brant and I had made a mistake, but we hadn’t intentionally tried to hurt Brock. And I was done letting him hurt me over it anymore. I could understand his anger and even his distrust. But, if he couldn’t see that I loved him and how sorry I was for hurting him, I wasn’t sure he was ever going to.
So from here on out, I would play the part of Mrs. Brock Holland in the public eye. In my heart, though, I would preserve Dani Kramer. Eventually, I would figure a way out of this mess for my baby and me. Perhaps if I was really lucky, I could force myself to fall out of love with my husband somewhere along the way.
I am enough. It was a phrase I’d had to repeat to myself many times over the years. It would have to do for tonight. I found some strength and pulled the comforter around me. Though my heart ached, I felt peace. Enough peace for me to drift off to sleep.
I wasn’t sure how long I had slept when I was woken by a knock on my door. Before I could even register that someone had been knocking, the door opened.
“Dani.” Brock stepped in.
My eyes opened and blinked several times. I had left the light on and the abrupt brightness was blinding. When I was able to focus, Brock came into view, dressed in a tight T-shirt and jeans. He was holding a brown paper bag, looking forlorn. “I’m sorry I woke you up.” He stepped closer. “And I’m sorry for earlier.”
“It’s fine.” I tried to act unaffected. “I get it.” And honestly, I did understand—I just wasn’t going to be trampled on over it anymore.
“It’s not fine.” He held up the bag. “I got some mint chocolate chip ice cream, your favorite. I thought maybe we could watch a movie and talk.”
My first instinct was to jump out of bed and join him, except I knew it wasn’t going to change anything. For fourteen years I had loved this man and had waited for him to love me back. I felt like we were on a boat with only one oar and doing circles, not getting anywhere. We had been for almost our entire relationship.
“Thank you, but I’m tired.”
He let the bag drop, seemingly surprised by my declining his offer. Believe me, I was astonished too. I’d never really rejected him before.
“Of course.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I disturbed you.”
I snuggled farther into the blanket before I could give into him—into myself, really. “Good night.”
“Good night,” he whispered while picking up the bag. He walked slowly toward the door, but before he exited, he turned back toward me. “I was thinking, I could cancel my golf game in the morning with my dad and Brant, and we could do a river cruise.”
That sounded lovely, but it only meant giving me more false hope, and I couldn’t afford any more. “I have a lot of work to catch up on before the engagement party. Have fun with your dad and Brant,” I said as kindly as I could, but I’m sure it came out more withdrawn and emotionless. More like how I felt.
He tilted his head. “I didn’t know you’d brought your work with you.”
“You know me—it’s never far from my mind. I have several emails I need to get out tomorrow. The holidays will be here before we know it, and I don’t want any children to slip through the cracks this year.”
“You’ve never let that happen before.”
“I don’t want this to be the year I fail.”
“I’m sure you won’t.”
“I hope not. See you tomorrow.” I tried to dismiss him. I couldn’t stand the tender way he was looking at me. It wouldn’t last. It never did with him. He didn’t want me.
He turned to leave but stopped himself again. “Dani, I am sorry.”
“I know.” I believed him. He was, after all, a good man. And we had both been through a lot.
His sigh indicated my answer didn’t satisfy him. “Is everything all right?”
“No. But it will be.”
Chapter Twelve
I stared at myself in the mirror, taking deep breaths in and out. I hardly recognized myself with the elegant updo I’d learned to do by watching a YouTube video, and dressed in the ridiculous red halter mermaid-style gown that showed every curve I owned and made my gray eyes pop. The dress was Sheridan’s idea. I’d tried objecting, saying it was too va-va-voom—which it was—but my true worry had been that, with how form fitting it was, there would be no hiding I was pregnant by the time the party rolled around. No baby bump had appeared yet. I didn’t know why, but I was anxiously waiting for it. Maybe because I needed the physical reminder of why I was doing this.
“You can do this,” I whispered out loud to myself. I mean, it’s only the engagement party of the man whose baby you carry. And you’ll only be attending with your husband, his brother. Then there was Jill. I had been fortunate enough to avoid her so far this weekend, but my luck was running out. I gripped the counter. How had I gotten into this mess? Sometimes I wished I had never told the truth and just disappeared. I knew, though, that running away was never the answer. How many times had I tried running away from the awful foster homes I had been placed in, only to be dragged back? It had only ever exacerbated the situation. As a result, punishments had gotten worse and I had been labeled as a troublemaker. Only the worst sort of families would take me then.
I had to face the music and figure out how to change the dial to my tunes. I hadn’t come this far to only come this far.
“Dani.” Brock knocked on the bedroom door. “Are you almost ready?”
Not even a little, but I could do this. I swiped a gold sheeny gloss across my lips and took some deep breaths before I headed out of the bathroom and across the bedroom. I opened the door to find Brock standing there looking dashing in a tux. I rubbed my heart, as if to tell it to remain calm and, most importantly, safe. I reminded it that there was no hope for Brock and me.
Brock’s eyes roved over me. For a moment he stood speechless, his mouth slightly agape. “You’re stunning,” he finally annunciated.
“Thank you. You look nice too.” I went to reach out and straighten his bow tie but stopped myself. Becoming too familiar with him wasn’t a good idea if I was going to survive this and stay mostly whole. “Your tie is a little off.” I pointed instead.
He straightened his tie and gave me a scrutinizing glance. “Are we okay?”
I nodded and grabbed the gold sparkling clutch that Sheridan had said I had to have. Apparently, it completed the ensemble. All I thought about was how much I could sell it for on eBay. It would buy a lot of Christmas gifts for Children to Love. Though I wouldn’t. I couldn’t hurt Sheridan’s feelings. She had been kind enough to bring me lunch earlier today when she heard I was working alone in the hotel room. She’d tried to convince me to come to the spa with her, but I couldn’t afford to love her any more than I already did. And I knew if I gave it a chance, we would be close, like a mother and daughter. It would be under false pretenses, though, and I cared about Sheridan too much to allow that to happen. Besides, I didn’t want to get used to things like spa days. Eventually, those things would come to an end when I figured a way out of this sticky situation.
Brock met me at the door, his eyes still questioning. He took my hand. “Dani, I’m sorry about last night. Things were moving too fast.”
“You don’t need to keep apologizing. I agree with you. We should slow things down.” I squeezed his hand before letting it go. Such loss filled me, but I kept my tears and emotions at bay.
He stared down at his hand, flexing it. Did he feel the emptiness too?
I had to stop asking myself questions like that. It wasn’t doing me any good. I opened the door and quickly walked out
into the hall to face the night before I lost my nerve. Brock followed me, frustration etched on his handsome, tan face. He had gotten some sun today while golfing.
We walked down the hall together in silence toward the elevators. Brock stayed by my side yet was careful to keep some distance between us. In the elevator, we looked anywhere but at each other. The elevator chimed, announcing our arrival at our destination. It was time to be Mrs. Brock Holland. I slipped my arm into the crook of Brock’s elbow and pasted on a content smile as we passed through the elevator doors. Brock glanced down at me, a look of confusion and concern in his eyes. As we walked through the stately lobby, across the shiniest tile floor known to man, I could feel the stares and hear the excited whispers. It wasn’t every day you got to see an American hero in the flesh. A man who had graced every cable news channel for weeks. Brock was gracious and smiled at his admirers. I played my part and smiled too.
A middle-aged couple braved approaching us. The man heartily shook Brock’s hand while the woman complimented my dress. “Could I please get a picture of both of you?” she sweetly asked. “Our son is serving overseas right now, and it would mean the world to him.”
“Of course,” I didn’t hesitate to respond. I was going to win best actress for portraying Mrs. Brock Holland.
“Thank you. You’re a beautiful couple, and your story is so inspiring.”
Oh, I hoped no one was inspired to be like us.
Brock did his duty and put his arm around me. I had to hold my breath. His scent and touch were hard to resist. We smiled while the woman took a dozen pictures with her phone.
“Wow. Just wow,” she kept saying. “We are so honored to have met you.”
“Thank you,” Brock responded. “It was a pleasure to meet you. Best wishes to your son.” He kept his hand on the small of my back and led us the rest of the way to the ballroom, where the press had already congregated. It was showtime, again. Lights flashed in our faces like we were arriving on the red carpet. Questions were being lobbed at us so fast I had no idea what was being asked.
Brock held up a hand. “Tonight is about my brother and his fiancée. My wife and I are only here to celebrate them.”
It pricked my heart when he referred to me as his wife. It sounded so genuine coming out of his mouth, but we both knew the truth. The man couldn’t even stand for me to tell him that I loved him. He wouldn’t even sleep in the same bed as me with pillows between us.
The press still lobbed questions at us as we entered the grand ballroom. Everything glittered and sparkled, from the enormous flower arrangements on each table with sparkler-looking things shooting out of them to the rhinestone-encrusted napkin holders. Going overboard on the bling was an understatement. I was sure it was meant to look elegant, but it looked tacky to me.
Brock chuckled under his breath. “We should have worn sunglasses.”
“Yeah,” was all I could think of to say. Normally, I would have tried to be witty and charming, or at least match his playfulness, but it had never gotten me anywhere, and I was tired.
“Dani.” Brock tipped my chin with his finger. “Can we please hit the reset button? I’m sorry,” he whispered.
I didn’t get a chance to answer, which was a good thing. His sincerity would be my undoing if I wasn’t careful.
Sheridan and John approached us.
“Dani,” Sheridan sang with open arms. “You are simply a vision.” She wrapped me up, even though she was shorter than me.
I took a moment to soak in the comfort she provided, as guilty as it made me feel. “Thank you. You look beautiful.” And she did. Her floor-length azure chiffon-and-lace dress was elegant. She was a classic beauty who I swore would never age.
Sheridan waved me off. “I’m feeling older every day.”
“Nonsense,” John disagreed. “You are more beautiful than the day we met.”
I believed he meant that. He was such a confusing man.
John’s eyes darted between me and Brock. “We are the luckiest men in this room.”
“Absolutely,” Brock agreed.
Odd, I didn’t believe Brock as much as his father at this moment. But oh, how I wanted to.
“Listen to these men.” Sheridan gave me a big toothy grin. “Such charmers they are.”
“Yes.” I returned her smile, playing my part.
Sheridan strung her arm through mine. “I’m going to steal you away for a while. There are some people I would like you to meet.” She faced Brock. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. I will be anxiously waiting for your return,” he addressed me.
I gave him a nod before I was off with my mother-in-law. The room was becoming more and more crowded, which was saying something for how large it was. I swore they’d hired a philharmonic orchestra to play. Classical tunes filled the air as the elite and wealthy mingled. Many sitting senators and representatives were among them, along with their security, who discreetly watched their every move.
Brant and Jill were at the center of it all. I wished I could say the happy couple, but Brant, while smiling, had an air of stoicism around him. Jill, on the other hand, gripped Brant’s arm so tight she was in danger of breaking a nail. And not to be catty, but the poor thing had gone overboard on her ensemble. Her strappy silver dress looked like an ill-fitting disco ball. And her hair had been so teased, it could probably hide a small mammal.
Sheridan leaned in closer, noticing where my gaze had drifted off to, and whispered, “I hate to be critical of anyone, especially future family, but Jill was either ill-advised or she has bigger problems than I feared.”
My brow arched. “What problems?”
“Keep walking,” she said, as quiet as a mouse. “It will make our conversation look natural and not draw any attention. Remember that. This town has eyes and ears everywhere.”
A shiver went through me—and not the good kind.
“Take heart, darling, you’re a tough cookie. You can handle this,” Sheridan tried to put me at ease.
I nodded, though I didn’t feel all that confident.
Sheridan smiled and waved at people as we did a turn about the room. “Jill’s family is rooted in politics and old money. The kind of money that can buy anything or anyone.”
I wanted to say, “The kind your husband has,” but I kept my mouth shut because I was hoping I could finally make sense of why Brant was marrying Jill.
“I told John not to befriend Edward Copeland, but sometimes it’s the price you have to pay in Washington. Unfortunately, a woman or man who has the ear of any president is dangerous.”
“How so?”
“Because that privilege has a cost, and sometimes it’s a heavy one.”
My heart dropped. “Brant?”
Sheridan gave me a sad smile. “I’m afraid so. I know John says Jill is Brant’s choice, but I look at them and I can tell he doesn’t love her. He doesn’t have the love that exists between you and Brock.”
I could feel my skin break out in red blotches. I felt awful for deceiving her. I so badly wanted to tell her the truth about Brock and me. About John. Her evil husband who threatened me and obviously used his son as some bargaining chip. I held my stomach and kept my mouth shut. I berated myself, wondering if I was any better of a person than John, keeping lies the way I was. Even if it was for a pure purpose—the life of my child.
Sheridan patted my arm. “I’m so happy Brock has at least found happiness.”
I gave her a pressed-lip smile, doing my best to hold my tongue and tears back.
“How is your sister Kinsley, by the way?”
“Well, uh . . .”
“She’s hurt, I’m sure.”
My eyes widened. “You know?”
“The reason she and Ariana aren’t here and that she would have been a better choice for my son? Yes, I know.”
Of course they had all been invited, but Ariana and Jonah thought it best to stay with Kinsley, as I had no other choice but to come. They all used work
as an excuse.
“Does Brant have to go through with this?”
Sheridan paused and looked at her son surrounded by dozens of well-wishers. A sheen of moisture covered her eyes. “Brant’s dream has always been to follow in his father’s footsteps. Unfortunately, people like the Copelands are part of the package. I only hope it’s worth it. That Jill will prove me wrong.”
What was she going to do when both of her daughters-in-law did?
Chapter Thirteen
“Thank you. It was so nice to meet you,” I said for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. I had met foreign dignitaries, celebrities, and more politicians than I had ever wanted to. However, I had also met some of Sheridan’s dearest friends who still lived in the DC area, as well as the director of a national child advocacy group who was very interested in what I did. She had taken one of my cards and promised to call me. I was hoping to make her an ally and possibly work with her to get some much-needed reforms in the foster care system, as well as bring more attention to those who age out of foster care. Most of those children ended up with low-paying jobs, and too many of them found themselves on the streets or in prison.
Sheridan sweetly rubbed my cheeks. “Your muscles will get used to all the smiling, eventually.”
I could only hope. “How did you survive living here for all those years?”
“Chocolate during the day and cocktails at night,” she teased.
I laughed. “I’ll remember that.”
Sheridan scanned the room until she found her boys.
I was surprised to see Brant and Brock together among the greatest throng of people. Seeing them side by side, there was no denying how dangerously handsome they were. There was no doubt why someone like Jill would plot and plan her entire life to be with Brant. It broke my heart, though, to see the invisible line that was between the brothers. I knew I was to blame. Which hurt even more.
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