by Debbie Mason
Three smiles in less than three minutes—she was acting like a lovestruck teenager. She took a minute before opening her bedroom door to put on her professional-candidate face. The last thing she needed was for Glamma to figure out she and Connor had had a sleepover. Only it wasn’t really a sleepover because he’d left in the middle of the night, which was probably for the best, now that she thought about it. She didn’t need Glamma getting any ideas.
Arianna opened her bedroom door, half-expecting to hear Sean’s and Helen’s voices, like she did most mornings. She inhaled deeply. Odd. The coffee hadn’t been put on. As she walked toward the kitchen, she heard a sniffle from the living room. She turned to see her grandmother sitting on the chair, crying.
“Glamma, what is it?” She rushed to her side, kneeling at her feet.
Helen pressed her blue-veined hand to Arianna’s cheek. “My darling girl, I should have known. I should have seen it coming. Blue-eyed devils, the whole lot of them.”
She was about to ask if Daniel Gallagher had died, but nothing her grandmother was saying made sense. Oh God. Had the campaign become too much for her? Ava had been worried it might. They hadn’t been to the specialist yet, but there were indications that Glamma was in the early stages of dementia. Ava hadn’t said it in so many words, and she certainly hadn’t meant to put the blame on Arianna, but she believed the stress of losing Tie the Knot and Arianna’s injuries had taken as much of a toll on her grandmother as it had on her. Then there was the night Glamma had gotten lost. The stress of the campaign had become too much for her then. And now here they were again. All because Arianna hadn’t looked beyond her grandmother’s newfound zest for life and her vibrant energy to see that they might be doing her more harm than good.
She covered her grandmother’s hand with her own. “Why don’t I make you something to eat, and we’ll have a cup of tea together? Take the morning off and relax.”
“Relax? We can’t relax. We have to beat those devils at their own game. They’ve messed with the wrong women. They think you’re weak and crippled and that I’m old and deranged. Ha! We’ll show them.”
“Glamma, stop it! You’re worrying me. I have no idea what you’re talking about it.”
Her grandmother slumped in the chair, looking every one of her eighty years. “I’m sorry, darling. You’re just like me. We weren’t meant to have a man in our lives.”
“This is about Connor?” She couldn’t think what else it could be.
“Don’t mention that name in this house. He’s even more handsome and slick than his uncle and his father combined. Pretending they cared about us when all along they were leading us on. The writing was on the wall. You were going to beat his uncle and the Gallaghers can’t stand losing, so they’ve pulled strings and replaced him with his nephew. But we’ll show them, won’t we? You’ll beat him, darling. Beat him and his horrible family at their own game.”
Connor had changed sides. He was running against her. Last night they’d made love, and this morning he’d left her. Her chest and throat were so tight she couldn’t speak. Arianna dropped to her bottom on the hardwood. She lifted her eyes to her grandmother, staring at her through a wet film. “Are you sure?” she finally managed to whisper.
She reached for Arianna’s good hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. “Byron Harte from the Harmony Harbor Gazette called to say that there’d been an emergency meeting of the town council after midnight, and they’d agreed, on compassionate grounds, to allow Connor to run in his uncle’s stead. The Harte boy asked for a comment.”
“Did you…? Did you give him one?”
Her grandmother smiled. “I gave him one the town of Harmony Harbor will never forget.”
Chapter Fifteen
After he read the piece in the online version of the Harmony Harbor Gazette, it took everything Connor had not to throw his iPhone across his grandmother’s suite. “Who. Talked. To. The. Press?”
“It wasn’t me, boyo. I’ve been here all night long. You should know. You were with me. Staying with me in my time of need. I won’t soon forget it.” His uncle sat propped up in the dark wood canopied bed with a breakfast tray on his lap. He looked pretty perky for a man who’d asked for his last rites at three this morning. Connor had nodded off around five and had been woken up by his father fifteen minutes ago to the news he’d been outed in the Harmony Harbor Gazette with a response from his opponent.
As of yet Arianna hadn’t withdrawn from the race or wished him luck. She’d wished him straight to hell along with the rest of the blue-eyed devils in his family. And that was the nicest thing she had to say about him, and his father.
He understood she was hurt. She had every right to be, and if she’d pick up the damn phone, he’d explain what had happened, but she wouldn’t. Well, she’d pick up, but then she’d slam the receiver in his ear as soon as he got half a word out of his mouth.
His father grabbed Daniel’s iPad and sat on the edge of the bed.
“Do yourself a favor and don’t read it,” Connor told his dad. He wished he hadn’t read it. No matter how mad Arianna was at him, he couldn’t believe she’d gone that far.
“Now, come on. Buck up. You know this business isn’t for the faint of heart. You can’t overreact to everything you read about yourself in the press,” his father said with a patronizing smile.
If the accusations and aspersions cast against their characters hadn’t been made by the woman Connor loved, he’d be handling it a lot better than he was. He glanced at his dad, whose eyes got bigger the further along he read. His uncle put his tray aside and crawled across the bed to lean over Sean’s shoulder and read the article.
“I didn’t know the lass had it in her. If it weren’t my brother and nephew she was eviscerating in the press, I’d admire her fighting spirit.” He made a face at Connor. “Sorry, boyo. It looks like you might have lost your girl. You can always go back to the other one. Brooklyn, wasn’t it? Now, she was a real looker, and not nearly as vengeful as this one. Or as canny about the voters. If you want to win the mayoral race, I suggest you get out there and show your pretty face.” His uncle went back to reading the article with a half smile on his face, apparently oblivious to the fact that he was ultimately responsible for Connor losing his girl.
That wasn’t completely true though. In the end it had been Connor’s decision to run. Sure, taking one for the Gallagher family team had played a role. But it wasn’t only for the backslaps and the pride on his parents’ faces or that he’d be the one to make their dreams come true. It was because he’d one day dreamed of following in his father’s footsteps. He just hadn’t gotten up the nerve to share his ambitions with his parents, afraid of being shut down or simply ignored.
His uncle’s half smile abruptly disappeared. “What does she mean we’re sexual deviants? You, Maura, and I have never had a threesome. And why is she comparing me to King Henry VIII? I’ve only had three wives, and they’re all alive. Sue the shrew. Sue her for defamation of character.”
“We’re not suing anyone. Think of how Arianna feels right now. She thinks I used her, betrayed her. And think how it would look if we sued her, a woman who only months ago lost everything she owned and almost lost her life. Now settle down and lie back in bed. You’re supposed to be resting.” His uncle’s blood work had been inconclusive. Because he’d gotten so worked up at the mere suggestion of going to the hospital, Finn had agreed to treat him at home.
Connor’s father tapped the iPad while glaring at him. “Think how she feels? Did you read the entire thing? Did you read what she said about our family? About you? She makes it sound like you ripped her to shreds during her divorce hearing, made up vicious lies about her, left her destitute. And this”—he stabbed the screen—“she claims you were cheating on her with four women while dating her in your teens.”
Connor rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “I know what she said, and you know her, Dad. For two seconds, put yourself in her shoes. T
hink how she felt when she got that call this morning. Less than eight hours after we’d…” Okay, he wasn’t going there. “It’ll be fine. I’ll go talk to her and straighten everything out. I’ll ask her to print a—” Retraction got drowned out by his mother storming into the room shrieking, “She’s ruined us! She’s ruined our chances to get back in the governor’s mansion, Sean! Connor will never recover from this! People in Harmony Harbor won’t vote for him now!”
He could reason with his uncle and his father, his mother, not so much. Surreptitiously, he pulled his phone from his pocket and texted his brothers on their group chat. Uncle Daniel’s room, stat. You talked me into this, and I can’t deal with them by myself.
Almost immediately Michael responded. Sorry. You’re on your own. The story must have been picked up in Boston, because I’m fielding calls from the clients you just brought on board, who are wondering how you’ll have the time to look after them when you’re also running for mayor. Since it’s starting to look like you won’t win, I shared that it was highly doubtful you’d be elected. Which seemed to appease them.
Arianna’s charges in the Gazette wouldn’t matter to his clients. All they cared about was that he had enough time in the day to devote to their needs.
Oh, hell. Apparently dealing with irate clients is going to be the most pleasant part of my morning. Cherry just marched into the office with several of Arianna’s campaign signs. It looks like she’s staging a sit-in.
Logan chimed in. At least Shay hasn’t turned on you. Jenna packed a bag, and she’s moving in with her sister.
Good. I mean, not good that Jenna’s left, but now that she has, you can come over and help me out here. Connor glanced at his parents and bowed his head. Mom looks like she’s going to cry.
Are you crazy? I can’t let this fester. I’m heading over to Arianna’s to talk to the three of them, and then I’m bringing Jenna home.
Okay, good. Pick me up. And you can tell Arianna exactly who came up with this brilliant plan.
Logan typed, What I’d like to know is who leaked this to the press.
You and me both, Connor typed with feeling, noticing Logan hadn’t said he’d tell Arianna the truth.
We just have to figure out who had the most to gain, his brother the former FBI agent responded.
And that was the question of the day. Connor had been racking his brain, trying to figure out that very thing. Other than close family members, no one else knew.
There was a knock on the door, and Byron Harte poked his head in the room. “Hi. I was told it was okay to—”
“You have a lot of nerve coming here after printing the Bell girl’s lies, Harte,” Daniel said, looking like he might throw the iPad at the man.
“That’s why I’m here, actually. It was Arianna’s grandmother Helen who issued the comments, supposedly relaying them verbatim from Arianna. Which, I’ve since learned, was not the case. Arianna called and cleared that up a few minutes ago. My sister’s getting the retraction online as we speak, and we’ll correct the print issue before it goes out tomorrow. I had my doubts about some of the story, but Helen can be persuasive. I wanted to personally offer my apologies.”
“I bet you wanted to offer your apologies. You were that close”—Daniel pinched his forefinger and thumb together—“to being sued for everything you own. You don’t mess with the Gallaghers and get away with it. Why you’d listen to Arianna’s granny, I’ll never know. The woman’s loopers.”
“Uncle Daniel.” Connor gave his uncle a censorious look, then turned to Byron. “We appreciate you coming by and clearing things up, Byron. I’m glad to hear that Arianna had nothing to do with the comments in the paper. The news I was running in my uncle’s place came as a shock to her, but I’m sure once we get a chance to talk we can clear everything up. After we do, I wouldn’t be surprised if she had an announcement of her own to make.”
“Uh, just so you know, the comments being removed are the ones along the line of the deviant behavior remarks. Threesome, that sort of thing. Arianna didn’t retract the comments about either you or your father, unless they were in relation to the previously stated deviant…Well, you know. And she already made an announcement.”
“Great. I’m happy to hear that. Campaigning has been tough on her, you know. She’s not fully recovered.”
“Son.” His dad cleared his throat.
Connor nodded and picked up the container of water on the table beside the chair and poured his dad a glass while saying to Byron, “It’s probably no surprise to anyone that the only reason Arianna was in the race was because we sort of coerced her into it. Helen’s the one who really wanted to be mayor. It’s too bad she’s having issues with her mem—”
“Jaysus, son, he’s a reporter, not your best friend,” his father said, taking the glass from Connor’s hand.
He couldn’t believe it. Since when did he blab to reporters? He didn’t blab to anyone. He always kept his own counsel; he was totally cool under pressure. Until now. He was just so relieved that he and Arianna wouldn’t be opponents that he’d run off at the mouth. “That was off-the-record, Harte.”
“I figured. But I think you may have misunderstood about Arianna’s announcement. She’s staying in the race.”
“For mayor? She’s staying in the race for mayor?” He said it twice because he didn’t sound like enough of an idiot saying it once.
“That’s the only race I know of. Unless you’re thinking of the Turkey Run at Thanksgiving?” Byron said.
“Of course I’m not thinking of the Turkey Run. I just didn’t think she’d want to stay in the race.” Now, why did he keep blurting out stuff like that to Harte?
“I know; it’s off-the-record.” He gave Connor a sympathetic smile. “You’re in a tough spot. I get it. Everyone knows you two were dating and you and your dad were her biggest supporters. But blood is blood. Your uncle got sick—”
“Ticker just about gave out,” Daniel corrected. “I had the last rites. Almost met my Maker on the same day as my grandmother. Imagine that? All Saints Day. Must be something to that, don’t you think?”
For a man who’d almost met his Maker, his uncle was looking surprisingly well, Connor thought for the second time that morning. Which made him wonder about something else. “Byron, how exactly did you get word that I was taking my uncle’s place?”
“I got a phone call around one thirty this morning. Called and confirmed with one of the town councilors around six. Then I wrote up the story and added in the quotes from Helen once I reached her this morning.”
“Do you know who called you?”
“A woman, but I didn’t recognize the voice.”
Connor rounded on his mother. “How could you, Mom? You had to know I wanted to break the news to Arianna myself.”
“Why do you immediately blame me? Maybe it was—”
“It was you. I know it was. Just come clean, Mom.”
“Yes. Yes, it was me.” She lifted pleading eyes to him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your relationship with Arianna, darling. You all said she didn’t want to be in the race, so I thought…I didn’t want you to get cold feet. Don’t you see? Your father and I…” She lowered her eyes to her lap. “I’ll call Arianna and tell her it was my fault she had to read the news in the paper.”
In the past his mother never would have apologized or tried to make things right, and he didn’t think it was because things had gone very, very wrong. This had to do with her and his dad. He was sure of it. She’d see this as a way for them to have a second chance. And despite her possibly blowing his chance with Arianna, he couldn’t stay angry at her. “I’d appreciate if you call her, Mom.”
“You’ll stay in the race?” she said, and then bit down on her bottom lip as though afraid he was going to take away all her hopes and dreams with a single word.
“I think so, yeah.” He glanced at Harte. He’d forgotten the reporter was still in the room.
The owner of the Gazette sighe
d. “I know. It’s off-the-record.”
* * *
“I guess that’s the one positive in all of this,” Logan said when Connor told him their mother was the one who leaked the news to the press. “Thanks to you, Mom and Dad might finally get back together.”
“Yeah, and I might lose Arianna forever,” he said as his brother pulled his truck in front of the house on the corner of Holly and Ivy.
“Mom was calling her when we left the manor. So Arianna knows you told everyone you wanted to talk about it with her before you made your decision.”
“And what if she asks me to bow out of the race?”
“The horse has kind of left the barn on that one, don’t you think? Besides, Jenna’s ticked at how everything went down and wants to make sure Arianna knows she has her back, but I could tell she was relieved at the thought that her sister would be out of the race. I think she was as surprised as all of us that she’s staying in.”
“I’m going to do my best to talk her out of it.”
“Shouldn’t be that tough. You’re the one who talked her into it in the first place.”
“Thanks. I really needed that reminder.” He undid his seat belt. “Here goes nothing.”
“Don’t worry. I have your back.” Logan got out of the truck. “Helen doesn’t happen to have a gun, does she?”
“You’re just a regular comedian today, aren’t you?”
“I wasn’t trying to be funny.” Logan pointed at something poking out from the mail slot in the door. “Just hang on until I text Jenna and get the all clear.”
A couple minutes later the metal flap on the slat closed, and the door opened a crack. Helen poked her face out, a lit cigarette hanging out of her mouth. “You have two minutes to get off my property before I call the—” She started to choke, and a hand shot out to remove the cigarette from her mouth.
He recognized that hand. “Arianna, please, just give me five minutes to explain.” He cautiously opened the gate and walked up the path. “Please, babe, the last thing I meant to do was hurt you. Either of you.”