Chapter Eleven
Yawning and struggling to shake the sleep out of his head and focus, Ford stretched at his desk in his D.C. office. He’d had coffee at his apartment and another on the way into work, but nothing could drag him out of the fog. After arriving on an evening flight, he’d had a quick dinner alone and spent a sleepless night thinking of Lily. After a dozen calls she wouldn’t answer, a handful of voicemails, and a few emails, he admitted defeat. She’d seen the truth and didn’t want any part of him or his stupid campaign. Of course he couldn’t go back and undo what happened, and now it was impossible to take his team’s advice and keep emotions out of the engagement by going with one of their choices. There would be no fiancée, no convenient answer to his opponent’s criticism, and there was nothing he could do about it this late in the game. In one swift motion, he’d screwed up his personal and professional life.
His team had decided to cut their losses and make the simple, straightforward announcement that he and Lily had decided to end their engagement. They hoped that if they refused any further discussion, she wouldn’t reveal the truth behind the scheme. He couldn’t fulfill the fiancée portion of their strategy on the heels of his breakup, so they were counting on voters’ sympathy to gloss over the issue of his bachelor status. With a week left until Election Night, there was nothing left to do but hit the campaign hard. They’d be working back home on his behalf, and he’d split his time between his congressional duties and trying to win last minute votes. It would be the longest week of his life, but he doubted he’d get much rest anyway.
An email popped up with drafts of his victory and concession speeches, ready for his approval or changes. For a moment, he stared at the little American flag on his desk and remembered the exhilaration of winning his last election, trying to summon a modicum of that enthusiasm. Nothing. Imagining a victory, then a defeat, he waited for a rush of excitement or devastation to wash over him, but there was only a gnawing emptiness in his gut. Nothing mattered without Lily, and he wasn’t ready to face the rest of his life without her. The way things stood, she wasn’t interested in having anything to do with him. His team was hard at work in constructing his post-engagement plan, and they wouldn’t support any reconciliation attempt.
And then it hit him.
Everything he’d done to destroy his relationship was in reaction to the opinions and desires of others, just like the first time. He knew that, but wallowing in self-loathing wasn’t getting him anywhere. The first time he’d let someone else decide his future, he was young and inexperienced, clearly not ready to be man enough to handle the responsibilities of an adult relationship. Now there was no excuse, and he was ready to fight, to stand up for himself and his relationship, to fight for the woman he loved. If it wasn’t going to work out, it was going to be between the two of them this time, no one else.
Deciding to take responsibility for his own life, to move forward with purpose, gave way to that rush of optimism and enthusiasm he’d waited for. He wanted to win the election, but he had to win Lily back. Without knowing he’d fought for her, he didn’t want anything else. His advisors wouldn’t like what he was going to do next, but he wasn’t doing it for them.
• • •
After work, a grueling outdoor photo shoot where Lily tried to pretend wearing a bikini in November was exactly what she wanted to be doing, she drove to Michael’s apartment. Carly had moved in with him while they decided where they were going to live permanently, and Lily had never been to his place before. Having known of Michael’s bad boy reputation before getting to know him through Carly, she was curious about where the reality television star lived.
Carly answered the door and led her into a disappointingly normal-looking apartment. Where was the leather furniture and giant flat screen television? He didn’t have a fully stocked bar dominating the living area? No obnoxious neon beer sign? And the air smelled like cinnamon and chocolate, not cigarette smoke and stale booze. Michael Welch was a normal guy. What a letdown.
“Michael is out tonight having dinner with Jenny, but he made us a cake this afternoon. It’s a new chocolate cinnamon flavor he’s trying to perfect. I promised him we’d try every version of the recipe until he got it just right.” Jenny was Michael’s younger sister who lived in an assisted living facility. She’d become accustomed to Michael being away after he and Carly started traveling for their hit television show, but they always needed time to catch up when he returned. They were rarely out of town for as long as they’d been in Paris for the honeymoon, so chances were good that he’d be gone all evening and Lily would have Carly all to herself.
Since Ford left town, she’d been alternately tempted to burrow under her blankets and sleep until she forgot him and to forgive everything so they could be together. He’d called, emailed, and texted, but she couldn’t bring herself to respond. Nothing he could say would make it better, not until he was truly willing to prioritize her and their relationship could they move forward. She couldn’t go on playing nothing more than a piece in the puzzle.
Carly picked up her phone. “And Michael just texted me that there’s something we need to watch on the DVR.” She shrugged and set the phone on the table. “Let’s get some cake, then we’ll see what he’s got in store for us.”
Lily followed Carly through the apartment and sat on a barstool, leaning on the counter that separated the kitchen from the living area. Carly pulled plates out of the cabinets and grabbed a couple of forks from the drawer. A magazine-perfect cake sat on a pedestal plate, almost too beautiful to cut into. Carly had no problem destroying it though, as she saw cakes like that every day. She cut two thick slices for them and slid one plate across the bar to Lily. “This goes great with red wine, but we have milk, too, if you want.”
Lily laughed. A glass of milk wouldn’t begin to scratch the surface of her pain. “Milk has never solved anybody’s problems. I think I’m going to need the wine.”
Carly handed her two empty glasses and pulled a bottle from their wine rack. “I figured as much. Come on, let’s start your therapy.”
They settled in at the coffee table, sitting on oversized pillows. Lily leaned back against the couch, the first bite of Michael’s cake melting in her mouth.
“I can see why you married him. This is seriously the best thing I’ve ever tasted. It’s so freaking good.” With a happy sigh, she took another bite and let herself relax for the first time since she’d broken up with Ford. The world had crumbled around her, but with her best friend and the amazing cake, she could survive yet. “I might just marry this cake. It would never let me down.”
Carly topped off their wine glasses and tucked her feet underneath her. “I’m so sorry about Ford. I wish there were something I could do to help.”
Finally spending time with her friend and talking about the breakup would help a little. Lily knew that time was the only thing that could heal her, though, unless Ford magically found a way to go back in time, undo the damage he’d caused, and fix everything. “This cake is a good start, but there’s nothing anyone can do. Ford was the only one who could’ve changed anything about the way things went, and he didn’t. I needed him to be there for me in a way that he obviously just can’t be. Now I just have to get through it.” Lily set her fork down on the plate, feeling the full weight of her sadness and almost choking on the misery. “I kept thinking, through all of this, that he would stand up for me, that he’d put us and our relationship above everything else, if only for a moment. Maybe I have unrealistic expectations of what a husband should be, but I just needed that one thing from him. I really thought he would, and when he didn’t, when everyone else was more important than me, it killed me.”
Carly was her biggest champion, but she also had a knack for seeing things from every angle. “Is it possible that you overreacted? He couldn’t just drop everything and do exactly what you wanted, could he? I mean, I agree that he should put your relationship first, and I’m totally on your side, of course.�
� She put her hands up, apparently expecting Lily to react negatively. “All I’m saying is that he has at least some obligation to his campaign, doesn’t he?”
Lily sneered at her friend playfully. “Quit trying to make sense and just take my side. What kind of best friend are you, anyway?” She took a big bite of cake and considered Carly’s words. Their engagement came about purely as a machination of the campaign machine. Should she have been so surprised when it ended the way it did? Was Carly right? Was she overreacting?
Carly picked up the remote control and turned the television on. “I’m just trying to help you see it from another perspective. If you want to wallow in your righteous anger, I’ll be there with you. Let’s see what Michael left for us.”
“If he’s trying for a romantic surprise for you and it’s the engagement episode of your show, I’m going to scream.” Lily actually loved the episode of Michael and Carly’s show where he proposed, thought it was the most romantic thing she’d ever seen, but she couldn’t take it right now. Not with her own love life in shambles.
Carly laughed, scrolling through the entries and finally deciding that the most recently recorded show was the one in question. “He wouldn’t do that. I guess Jeopardy! it is. Maybe there’s a hilarious answer or something. Who knows with that man? There could be a crazy personal injury lawyer commercial.” She shrugged and settled against the couch, holding her wine glass by the bowl.
They watched the first segment of the show, paying close attention to the questions, the contestants, waiting for Alex Trebek to accidentally drop an F bomb or something, but nothing stood out. The show went to commercial, and the familiar patriotic music heard so often this time of year as part of political campaign ads played. As Lily was moving forward to grab the wine bottle to refill her glass, Ford came onscreen, leaning casually against an unfamiliar desk in an office she assumed was in Washington D.C. She stopped midway to the bottle, her hand in the air, eyes wide.
“Is this a joke? Does Michael really think we want to see a political ad?”
Carly looked uncomfortable. When it came down to it, Lily didn’t know Michael that well, only what she’d learned through Carly and through spending time with them together. Maybe he had a mean streak or sadistic sense of humor that she didn’t know about.
Ford’s rich voice filled the room, and Lily’s stomach clutched. With any hope, he wouldn’t be re-elected, and she’d never have to see his face or hear that voice again. Her heart couldn’t take it. Despite everything, she still wanted him, still loved him, still dreamed of being with him.
His handsome, serious face dominated her thoughts as he spoke. “My fellow Texans, it’s been a difficult campaign this time around. Being your representative has been one of the greatest honors and privileges of my life. I’ve been proud to serve you during my first term, and I’d love nothing more than to return for another. I hope you’ll join me at the polls this week and cast your votes for the candidates of your choice. Many of you have seen or heard the accusations that my opponent, Sam Coldwell, has leveled against both my campaign and me personally. He’s told you that I can’t understand family values because I’m not married, and then he questioned the authenticity of my engagement to Lily Ashton, a beautiful and intelligent woman. You may have seen her appearance on a local morning talk show, or at least read about it afterwards. He’s taken her words out of context, has forced her private life into the public eye, and has minimized her personal tragedy, turning it into no more than a sound bite. All that is bad…” He looked directly into the camera, and Lily held her breath for a second. “But what I’ve done is worse. I’ve been told to focus on the campaign, to worry about winning the election. In doing that, I’ve hurt the woman I love. I’m coming to you today to share a message with you. I want your vote, but I’m no longer willing to compromise my personal beliefs to get it.” He spread his hands. “It’s that simple. I’m in love with Lily Ashton, and I want to marry her. You’ve seen pictures of her at her husband’s funeral, you’ve seen her interviewed on television, and you’ve heard the rhetoric. It’s meant to confuse you and skew your perception. The truth of the matter is this.” The camera panned away enough to show both Ford and an American flag. “She is a true patriot, someone who has made the ultimate sacrifice for her country. She deserves better than this, and starting now, she’s not a part of this narrative. I hope you’ll vote for me, I truly do, but I won’t answer any questions about Ms. Ashton, and I won’t allow her name to be brought into my campaign again. I challenge Mr. Coldwell to do the same. Thank you, and God bless America.”
The ad was paid for by Ford Richardson, not the Ford Richardson campaign, so he’d likely gone against the wishes of his advisory team and bought the time himself. There’s no way they signed off on that message; they probably thought he was practically committing career suicide.
Lily sat in stunned silence, still not entirely certain of what she’d heard. Carly’s mouth hung open until she recovered from her shock and stared at her, wide-eyed. “Oh. My. Gosh. If that’s not enough for you, then I don’t know what else he could do.”
“I literally can’t believe what we just saw.” Lily set her glass on the table, hand shaking. “Why would he do that?”
“You wouldn’t answer when he tried to reach you, so it looks like he got to you the best way he could. This is bananas!” Carly bounced in her excitement, a huge smile on her face.
“What should I do?” Lily’s mind was racing as quickly as her heart.
“Um, you go to him and beg him to take you back. You’ve got a man who just made a very sincere, probably incredibly expensive, public apology. You hang on and you don’t let go, that’s what you do.” She grabbed her by the forearms and shook dramatically. “This is like a fairy tale, Lily. I can’t believe it!”
Carly fanned herself dramatically and fell back against the couch, the dreamy smile still on her face. She was right. Lily wanted Ford to man up and be the protector she’d dreamed of. She wanted him to put their relationship first and to show her that she was more important to him than anything else. Even after throwing up every obstacle she could between them, he’d found a way to get to her. He’d done everything she wanted, and he’d done it in grand fashion. It didn’t matter who was wrong, who’d messed up, or what had happened. They were meant to be together, and he was definitely the one.
Chapter Twelve
Waiting the couple of days between Ford’s televised apology and Election Day was sheer torture. She couldn’t wait to hear his voice again, but a phone call wasn’t enough. She wanted to reunite in person, to see Ford’s face when she told him that she loved him, that she forgave him for everything, and that she wanted to be with him. It was the best way to be sure that she’d made the right decision, that he truly felt the same way. Lily could hardly sleep from the excitement and nerves, but with Carly, work, and Soldier On for distraction, she’d managed. After a morning jog, she found her poll location and ducked inside, hurrying to avoid any prying eyes. With any luck, hers wouldn’t be one of the busier polling places where news crews ran their Election Day stories and she would get in, vote, and get out without notice.
The quiet lobby of the large city library where she’d be voting looked clear enough. She shuffled into the multipurpose room they’d designated for voters and gave her card to one of the line of elderly voting officials lining the table up front. She confirmed her address and winked at the older man with his eyebrows raised in recognition and silent question. With a fingertip to her lips, she hurried over to the first available voting machine. The computerized touch screen was separated by others in the row by plastic dividers for privacy, so much less exciting than the individual booths she’d seen in movies. When she was a kid, she’d envisioned closing herself in a curtained booth, marking her choices, maybe pulling a lever. Seeing Ford’s name pop up on her Congressional choices was a rush, though, and she chose him, glad to send a vote his way.
After voting, she rushed across
town to pick up her special print order and got ready for Election Night.
• • •
Ford paced the length of the small room behind the stage, wondering how many other people in the same position had done so. They’d rented a ballroom in a local hotel for the Election Night results party, and revelers had filled the space as soon as the doors opened. The utilitarian, bland room was lined with folding chairs and tables, likely overflow from the event room. Fluorescent overhead lights buzzed, an errant candy wrapper crinkled under his step, and he walked on, back and forth. What an unremarkable room to wait for such remarkable news in. Since his apology video aired and nothing happened between him and Lily, he’d lost interest in whether he won or lost the election. Without Lily, with the final knowledge that he’d really lost her forever, nothing much mattered. He’d been so certain that a big apology, one where he admitted complete fault and begged for forgiveness, would be enough, that she’d come running back to him. When she didn’t, when his calls remained unanswered, an emptiness replaced the hope he’d come to rely on. Without that hope, there was nothing to look forward to. There weren’t any tricks up his sleeve. He was out of ideas. And now it was time to move on. Alone.
The door opened and closed with a quiet click. “Hey.” Robert joined him, bearing a folder and a bottle of water. “The numbers are coming in, with almost all precincts reporting. We’re waiting on a couple more before we know for sure. It’s looking really good.”
“Oh? That’s awesome.” He wanted to be excited, and he knew he owed it to his team to at least try to summon some enthusiasm for the campaign they’d worked so hard for. The best he could do was a weak smile and a nod of appreciation for the water. He took a seat by a small table and opened the folder Robert brought him.
Love Connection Page 47