by Hart, Stella
She looked toward the window and shrugged listlessly. “I suppose I could break the contract and leave if I wanted to, but I don’t.”
“Why not?” I asked, frowning.
She nervously licked her lips. “I wouldn’t even know what to do if I was on my own all of a sudden. Chuck and I have been married for half my life. I wouldn’t want to lose everything I’ve built with him. Especially our family.” She lifted her eyes to mine again. “Logan might take his father’s side if I initiated a divorce, and I couldn’t bear that.”
I raised a brow. “I doubt that. I’ve always gotten the impression he likes you a lot more than Chuck.”
She frowned and waved a hand. “Oh, no, I’m sure he just sees me as a silly old woman.”
“He doesn’t,” I insisted. “Honestly, you’re probably the only woman on this planet he respects.”
Elizabeth gave me a faint smile. “You really think so?”
“Yes. I think he’d support you.”
I wasn’t just buttering her up. It was the truth. Logan had always treated her with kindness and respect, from what I’d seen. On top of that, whenever he mentioned his father, I saw something in his eyes. Something cold and dark. I wasn’t sure what it was, exactly, but he definitely didn’t like his dad as much as Elizabeth thought.
She shook her head again. “Let’s talk about something else. This is silly,” she said. The stubborn note had crept back into her voice. “I’m not going anywhere. I don’t want to cause drama.”
I decided to try a different tactic, because there was no way I could convince her to leave her husband with one conversation. It would be a slow process. Very slow. Painful, too. I would have to help build up her confidence, piece by fragile piece, until she felt safe and strong enough to get the hell out of her messed-up situation.
I flashed her a sympathetic smile and set my cup down. “I understand,” I said. “You still deserve to be happy, though. Everyone does. Right?”
Elizabeth’s lips twisted. “I suppose so,” she finally replied in a low murmur.
“Hobbies can make you feel good. What are yours?” I asked.
“Lots of things. Sometimes I help organize parties for the different philanthropic societies Chuck and I have joined over the years, and I see my friends quite a lot,” she replied. “Like the appointment I have today, for instance. It’s a standing weekly get-together I have with some of the other D.C. wives. We have champagne and get our nails done. Sometimes we get facials too. It’s nice.”
I smiled gently. “I meant things you do just for yourself. Like your true passions. Things that excite you,” I said. I held my palms up. “Unless your passions are party planning and getting manicures with the D.C. wives club, in which case, all the more power to you. It sounds fun.”
She let out a little laugh. “Oh, no, I see what you mean now. I enjoy the party planning, because it’s usually fundraisers, and I like helping people. The nails and facials, though… that’s more of a keeping-in-touch thing. The women I go with are good contacts to have. Their husbands have helped Chuck with his businesses over the years, especially Wonderland. So I suppose I wouldn’t call that a hobby. More of an obligation.”
I tilted my head to one side. “Well, if you like helping people, maybe there are other things you could do for the community apart from fundraiser planning,” I said.
If I could convince her to get out and about more often, her confidence might start to build. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.
Elizabeth looked right at me, a small smile playing on her lips. “There is one thing,” she said slowly.
My eyes widened. “Oh?”
She shook her head and looked down again. “Oh, never mind. It’s silly. You’ll probably laugh at me.”
“I promise I won’t.”
“All right.” She lifted her head again, an embarrassed expression on her face. “Everyone knows I used to be a model, but would you believe me if I told you I was also a college girl when I was your age?”
“I had no idea. Where did you go?”
“Yale.”
My brows rose. “Wow, really?”
She flashed me a sheepish smile. “Trust me, I didn’t get in through my intellect. I was a legacy, and my parents made a sizable donation.”
“I think it’s still impressive. What did you study?”
“Something similar to what you’re studying now. Politics and international relations. I wanted to go to law school afterwards, but then I had to marry Chuck, and it all fell by the wayside, because he wanted to have children almost right away.”
I swallowed a hard lump in my throat. It broke my heart to see the parallels between Elizabeth and myself. We both had similar dreams and ambitions for ourselves to the point where we’d gone to college for the exact same majors, only to be told none of it would matter once we were forced to marry a man we didn’t really want or love.
If I remained trapped in this situation, the same thing might happen to my future daughter, if I ever had one. I couldn’t bear the thought.
“Do you want to go back to college?” I asked Elizabeth.
She shook her head. “No. It’s too late for that now. I brought it up because of the things I was interested in when I was studying. Even though I wanted to get my law degree at some stage, I was always more interested in the political side of things.”
“Your family is very involved in that sort of stuff, right?”
“Yes. Mostly the men. They’ve never really listened to any of my opinions, though. They’re quite set in their ways.”
“How so?”
“You know how most people pick a side and stick with it? Liberal or conservative?”
“Uh-huh.”
“They’re like that. But I never was,” she said. “Do you want to know my dream political situation?”
“Sure.” I leaned forward, clasping my hands in my lap.
“Well, I despise the whole two-party system. I think it creates more problems than it solves with the constant back-and-forth and nonstop fighting over partisan issues. So I think it would be great if we had a president who declared himself—or herself—an independent before seeking similar people for staff and cabinet positions. No one with staunch loyalty to one side in particular. I think we’d see a lot of changes happening in the country if that happened, instead of the constant squabbling we see now. The good kind of changes.”
I nodded. “I agree,” I said.
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “Really? I always assumed you supported your family’s platform.”
“Nope.” I shook my head. “Believe me, you aren’t the only one who’s sick of the two-party system dominating everything. A ton of people are. I’m just not allowed to state my opinion on it publicly, given my mother’s status.”
“Oh, I see. That makes sense,” she said. Her perfectly-waxed brows dipped in a pensive frown, and she leaned closer to me. “Anyway, when I was your age, I was very invested in bringing about that kind of change. I always wished I could get involved in a campaign for a serious independent candidate.” She sighed and twisted her fingers again. “That was my passion. That was what I wanted to do for the community. I thought it would make a huge difference.”
“You could still get involved with something like that,” I said, lifting my brows. “There’s a few independent parties out there that could really do with some new support.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “Chuck would hate it. You know how fiercely he’s aligned himself with the Democrats. It wouldn’t look good if his wife suddenly started going against that and supporting a third party candidate.”
“He wouldn’t necessarily have to know. You have money and influence all on your own, so you could easily help out in certain political groups if you wanted to. Lots of people do that while staying under the radar.”
She twisted her lips. “I suppose so. He doesn’t really monitor what I do or where I go. As long as I keep myself looking good and don’t rock the boat, I
don’t think he really cares what I do with my time,” she admitted.
“Well, maybe you should look into it, then.”
She dropped her eyes to her lap, looking embarrassed again. “I’ve actually been keeping my eye on certain people over the years, wishing I could help them. There’s one man in particular I’d really love to get involved with.”
“Who?”
“Have you ever heard of Jeremy Carlton?”
I nodded. Carlton was a relatively-famous politician who ran a fast-rising independent party called the American Unity Party. “Yes. He did a guest lecture at my college once.”
“Oh? What did you think of him?”
“He’s pretty great. If he manages to get enough support, I think he could actually challenge the two main parties at some point.”
She nodded. “That’s what I think too. I’d love to get involved in a campaign for him.” She looked away and let out a dreamy sigh.
“You should do it,” I said. “I think it would be really good for you.”
The tip of her tongue darted out to nervously lick at her lips. “No, I couldn’t.”
“Why not?”
Her shoulders lifted and sagged in a dejected shrug. “I wouldn’t want to do something like that without Logan.”
“Logan? Why?”
“He loved politics when he was younger. He really wanted to get involved, and I always promised him I’d help him with that. I told him we’d be a team.” She let out a heavy sigh and went on. “If I started campaigning for someone behind his back, it wouldn’t feel right.”
“But he’s not even interested in that stuff anymore.”
“I know. But I’d still feel terrible. It’s hard to explain,” she said, slightly shaking her head. “And it’s not just that. Without him helping me, I’m not sure I’d feel brave enough to go behind Chuck’s back.”
I frowned. “What if you got Logan interested in political stuff again? He could help you with it. You’d be a team.”
“That’s a nice thought, but I doubt I could manage that. He seemed to throw away all of his political ambitions after Chloe’s accident,” she said, eyes turning glassy with sadness. “I’ve tried to bring it up with him before, but he never listens. He’s just not interested anymore.”
Guilt gnawed at my guts again, but with it came the spark of another idea.
“What if I help?” I asked, raising my eyes to Elizabeth’s face. “I could talk to him and convince him how much it means to you. If he hears it from both of us, he might realize how important it is.”
“You’d do that for me?” she asked, expression turning quizzical.
“Sure.”
“But…” She trailed off and shook her head. “You two don’t get along at all. You don’t even want to be here.”
“I think I could find a way to talk to him if it means I’m helping you,” I said. “You’re going to be my mother-in-law, after all. I should support you.”
A faint smile turned up her lips. “God, you really are the sweetest girl, Willow. I…” She trailed off again and looked down at her lap. “I wish he treated you better,” she went on in a soft murmur. “He just doesn’t listen to me, and he’s so angry all the time.”
“Like I said, I think he might start listening if we both talk to him,” I said. “Besides, remember what I said earlier about you being his favorite parent? It’s true. You definitely are. So if he’s really forced to think about it, I’m sure he’ll wind up deciding to help you with your dreams.”
Her eyes sparkled, and her cheeks filled with color again. “Stop. You’re getting me excited,” she said, hands twisting in her lap.
“You should be! I meant what I said before. I think it would be good for you to get involved with something like this. Plus, Jeremy Carlton would be over the moon to have your support, even if it’s in secret. You’re a freaking Hale!”
“Chuck would really, really hate it if he found out,” she said, voice tinged with nervousness again.
“I know, but you’re allowed to have your own passions. You deserve it, Liz.”
She was silent for a long moment. Then she took a deep breath and lifted her chin high. “You know what? I think you might be right,” she said. “I deserve to have at least one thing in my life I’m passionate about, and Chuck doesn’t have to know what I’m doing.”
“Exactly.”
“If you could actually speak to Logan about it and see if he wants to help out, I’d really appreciate that,” she said with a watery smile. “And thank you so much for the offer. I’ve wanted to do something like this for years. I just never thought I could.”
“You can.”
“I hope so,” she said softly. She glanced at her watch again. “Oh! I better go. Sorry, darling. Time really flies when you’re having a nice conversation, doesn’t it?”
“Sure does.”
She rose to her feet, and I followed suit. “This was really lovely,” she said, a genuine smile lighting her face. “I hope we can do it again soon?”
“I’d like that.”
A hopeful expression creased her forehead. “Would it be strange if I hugged you?”
“Not at all.”
She smiled wider and wrapped her arms around me, enveloping me in a cloud of warmth and perfume. “It’s so nice to have you here,” she said, voice choking up slightly. “It’s been so hard not having a daughter anymore. I mean… it’s not that Chloe is gone, but you know what I’m saying.”
“Yes, I understand,” I said softly.
She pulled back and delicately dabbed at her eyes with one hand. “Okay, I’ll get out of your hair. Enjoy the rest of the tea. If you want more, just call one of the maids. They know my recipe.”
“Thanks. I’ll definitely do that,” I said with a warm smile.
She turned and stepped out of the room, carefully closing the door behind her. The smile faded from my face, and I picked up my half-full teacup along with the teapot and dumped it all out in the bathroom sink.
It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate Elizabeth’s gesture. It was lovely, truly. However, I didn’t want to be calmed and sedated by the special blend of herbs. I wanted to stay active and alert now that I had a plan to get out of my contract with Logan. I wanted that fire inside me to start raging again, filling me with tireless energy and resolve toward my purpose.
Logan wanted to own me, and maybe part of him already did, but that didn’t mean I had to resign myself to it forever. Now that I had a real chance at getting out while keeping my brother and everyone else I cared about alive and well, I wanted to grab it by the horns and cling to it for all I was worth.
More than ever before, I wanted to be free.
7
Willow
Footsteps echoed in the hallway outside my door. My heart began to race. I sat up, straightened my shoulders, and tightened my short black silk robe around my waist.
Before the door opened, I pulled a tiny part of the robe over my left shoulder, making it look like it had loosened naturally and fallen. Not enough to show any cleavage. Just a hint of pale skin. A little tease.
Logan stepped inside a few seconds later. He put his bag down, took off his jacket and tossed it over the back of a chair near the entryway. Finally, he turned his attention toward me.
“Have you heard anything new about the Rutherford situation?” he asked, nodding toward the TV, which was playing a political news channel.
I shook my head. “Not really,” I said dejectedly. “Apparently there’s a small chance Jamie Torrance might be indicted in a few weeks, but that’s about it.”
He nodded slowly and started loosening his tie. I looked away, hating how such a simple action could be so sexy on a man like him. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his gaze lazily skimming my bare shoulder before dropping lower, obviously hoping to see more. I shifted in my spot, allowing my robe to drop a little lower.
I couldn’t help but feel a little bad for my new plan to manipulate him, because
he’d actually been nice to me over the last few days, while the Rutherford scandal raged on around us. He hadn’t put me in the glass box at all, he hadn’t yelled at me or threatened me for forgetting to address him ‘properly’, and he’d mostly left me to my own devices, allowing me to cry and mope around in bed all day if that was what I felt like doing.
There was also the fact that he’d saved me over Teddy, looming constantly in a dark, sticky cloud of confusion. As much as I tried to remind myself that he only saved me because he owned me and didn’t want anyone else to damage his property, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he might’ve actually done it because he cared about me. The way he pushed me up against the shipping container that night before kissing me like his life depended on it didn’t make it any easier to discount that theory.
It felt wrong to turn around and attempt to manipulate him now, given all of that, but I knew I had to snap myself out of the conflicted state. I had to remember he was the enemy here. That meant I had to do whatever it took to get out from under his thumb, even if that involved channeling my inner bitch and being as sly and cunning as possible.
There was no room for guilt. No room for any feelings at all.
“Has my mom tried to contact me at all?” I asked, looking back at Logan. He still had my phone, so he got all my messages, emails and calls.
He hesitated, scratching his chin. “You’ve had a few calls and messages from her advisors telling you to stay out of the limelight as much as possible while all this scandal bullshit is going on.”
My lips tightened. That wouldn’t be hard. I wasn’t even allowed out of the glitzy confines of Wonderland, anyway. To other guests and visitors, it might seem like a palace containing all the decadence and hedonistic amusements one could possibly desire, but to me, it was a giant gilded prison.
“Did you reply to them for me?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yeah. You’ve had a few messages from your friends, too. Rowan, a couple of girls from college, and some people from the Order. They just wanted to see how you’ve been doing with everything that’s been going on. I replied to them all for you.”