“That’s not much of a deterrent.”
“Clearly you didn’t see your face last time I mentioned it.”
He grinned crookedly. “Fine. When I win, you sign up for a culinary class—one where they teach the minimalistic art of plating.”
“You’re on. And by the way, that will never, ever happen, so prepare to beg.”
“Knox?” A woman’s voice called from elsewhere in the house.
Chloe jumped, but Knox didn’t flinch. “Who is that?” she asked.
“My mother.”
Chloe looked down at her packing-and-moving sweats and back to Knox. Great. Exactly how anyone would dress to meet the queen. “You’re in here talking about sex,” she hissed, “and your mother is here?”
He shrugged from behind one of those boyish, lopsided grins. “You have that effect on me.”
“That’s just what I want your mother to know. Ever heard of a first impression?”
“I wanted you then, too.”
Chloe stared at him, her jaw unhinged.
“Knox?” His mother sounded closer now.
“Get out there before she finds us,” Chloe said. “I need five minutes.”
“Yes, dear.”
Chloe rolled her eyes and nudged him through the doorway. She stopped short of pushing the door closed all the way—she didn’t want news of his mother’s visit to be met with that noise, of all things—and made a mad dash for the Biggest Closet on Earth. Her meager wardrobe looked to be even less so in the massive space, but that didn’t make it any easier to find something to wear. Fortunately, the clothes she had hanging in her apartment had been brought over on their hangers. She quickly found a simple maxi dress and ditched her sweat pants and tee, brushed her hair, and slipped into a comfortable pair of sandals.
Mother-in-law. Somehow that particular phrase hadn’t entered the vernacular of the marriage talk.
She swung open the door and followed the sound of voices to the kitchen. Great. Chloe was completely out of her element in the gleaming expanse of polished granite and stainless steel. The only things in the room that were remotely familiar were the sink and the microwave, and the latter had twice as many buttons as hers at home. She was totally without her bearings…what better place or time to meet Knox’s mother? It didn’t matter how nice Katherine Hamilton appeared in the public eye. Selling a sudden marriage to the media would be hard enough…convincing this woman she hadn’t married her son for his bank account would probably require a miracle.
Deep breath.
Chloe had heard plenty about Katherine Hamilton, but despite her reputation, the news coverage didn’t do the woman justice. She was perfectly put together in a simple cream-colored suit, while her sweeping updo, flawless makeup, and brilliant jewelry lent the impression she’d just stepped off the cover of a magazine. But while Chloe expected the woman to carry an air of superiority, she exuded nothing but warmth. Her smile when she saw Chloe lit her eyes, and despite her nervousness, Chloe took an immediately liking to her.
“Mrs. Hamilton,” she said. “It’s an honor to meet you. Chloe Lochlan.”
“Please, call me Katherine.” She swept Chloe into a hug. Smiling kindly, she said, “My son tells me you’ll soon be a Hamilton. Will you be taking the family name?”
Chloe bit her lip—she hadn’t given her name a second thought. Knox wasn’t marrying her for love, so she felt he should keep his name to himself. But was that what he wanted? She had no idea what would work best for his campaign. Maybe keeping her own would work in her favor…surely someone seeking no more than the prestige of the Hamilton family coffers would want the perks extended by carrying the last name.
“Chloe’s a writer,” Knox offered. “She’s keeping her name for professional reasons.”
Good one, Knox. His explanation was not only reasonable but hard to argue with.
Katherine released her lingering hold on Chloe’s arm and addressed her son. “There are some samples for your reception in my car. Would you kindly get them so I may have a moment alone with my future daughter-in-law?”
He nodded, though to his credit, he appeared a bit wary. “Of course.”
Katherine watched her son leave, then turned to Chloe. Ever gracious, she asked, “So, what brings you to the family?”
Chloe froze, the smile falling from her face. “What do you mean?”
Katherine smiled knowingly. “Three days ago, I was under the impression Knox was single. He didn’t have a girlfriend, much less a fiancee.”
Great. She and Knox had gone over their so-called story—most of which was the truth sans the business proposition—but she hadn’t counted on convincing his mother. Under her kind exterior, the woman had to be shrewd to maintain her reputation in the face of Rex’s betrayals. Chloe didn’t think her unkind, but she also harbored no expectation of fooling her. And moreover, she didn’t want to lie. “We started dating over a year ago.”
“Then why haven’t I heard of you?”
Chloe had to give the woman credit—two minutes after meeting Chloe, she had her alone and strung up, all without a hint of animosity. “I can’t speak specifically for Knox, but we did agree to keep our relationship quiet. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be followed everywhere, but it’s bound to be exhausting. I think he just wanted a little downtime.”
Katherine smiled. “Secrets tend to create more gossip than they prevent, Ms. Lochlan.”
“Please call me Chloe.” Where was Knox? This serene, placid woman was going to have her for dinner. “I assure you, my intentions—”
Katherine waved a hand. “You don’t need to explain yourself to me. At least, not if you’re who I think you are.”
“Who…do you think I am?”
“Knox has dated a lot of women.”
Of course he had. Why did everyone feel the need to remind her of this?
Katherine tapped the polished granite with a perfectly manicured nail. “When he called to tell me of your engagement, he was the happiest I’ve ever heard him. It wasn’t just a good mood, either. His feelings were far more than superficial.”
Chloe’s gaze shot to Katherine’s face, and she prayed her guilt didn’t show in her eyes. She’d been worried about hurting Knox, but she hadn’t considered that she’d be hurting his mother. Arguably, neither of them deserved it, but Knox at least knew what he was getting into. He knew the marriage was fake. Katherine, on the other hand, actually believed Knox cared for Chloe. As much as Chloe wanted that to be true, the fact that their deception would affect other people hit her with force. “I didn’t realize I could have…affected him so.”
“Honey, he’s marrying you. And I can’t say I didn’t have my suspicions about your intentions, but one fact remains undisputable. Any other woman who has dated my son has landed herself on the front page of the social section within the week. But he tells me you dated for months, and until yesterday I didn’t even know your name. I can’t begin to know what’s between you two, but when he says you’re different, I have to believe him. I’ve already seen that much, and while I don’t know that I approve of his desire to follow in his father’s footsteps to the Senate, you seem to be the kind of woman he needs to stay grounded while he’s on that path.”
Chloe swallowed, taken aback by Katherine’s words. “I—”
“Did you bring the whole store?” Knox walked into the kitchen, bouncing off the doorway with a grunt. His voice was muffled, his torso invisible from behind a tower of books and boxes.
Chloe released the breath she’d been holding and rushed over to relieve him of some of the pile. “You can’t make more than one trip?”
He scowled. “There’s more.”
“Can I help?”
Katherine stood. “Be assured, dear, he’ll be glad for the escape. I know my son—he’s not going to care one bit what color table linens we choose for your reception.”
Knox snorted. “I wouldn’t dream of insulting you ladies with my uninformed opinion. Besi
des, I’m due for a phone conference.”
“I’m on my way out myself,” Katherine said. “I know you two are still getting settled. You’ll look through these things, Chloe, and then we’ll finalize plans? I know I’m not giving you much time, but on such short notice…”
“It will be beautiful, Mother.” He kissed her on the cheek. “And you’re right. I couldn’t care less about place settings. As long as there’s food on the plate, I’m in—though I’m afraid I’ve gotten word that a mere eight green beans won’t cut it. Insist on at least nine, no matter the cost.”
Katherine looked at him as if he had descended into utter madness.
He ignored her incredulity. “And speaking of dinner, I’m going to order a pizza. Are you sure you don’t want to stay?”
Katherine gathered her things so quickly, Chloe thought the woman must have been repelled by the very thought of food served from a greasy box. “No, no. See to your conference. Chloe, it was lovely to meet you. We’ll talk tomorrow?”
Chloe nodded. “Of course.”
“Good. I’ll stop by midmorning.” She put a hand on Chloe’s arm. “I mean it. Welcome to the family.”
Chloe followed her to the door, watching as Katherine got into a gleaming Mercedes-Benz. It was the same cream hue as her clothes. Chloe shook her head. She was lucky to have a matching pair of shoes, and Katherine Hamilton managed to accessorize all the way down to her automotive paint.
“I think she liked you.”
She jumped at the sound of Knox’s voice so close to her ear. She turned, finding the length of his body mere inches from hers.
He pushed shut the door with one hand, the motion positioning him even closer. “Pizza?”
Of course. Never mind that they’d gone through approximately eleven thousand pizzas while they were dating. They even had the same favorite—New York–style pepperoni.
Her mouth watered and not only for the food. The man was gorgeous. And now off-limits. It’s for your own good. But was it really? Unrequited love was one thing. Life without orgasms, another entirely. But the greater the distance between them, the easier it would be for her to take advantage of their arrangement.
She’d get her story, and with any luck she would do so before her grandmother’s house was razed to make way for the factory that never should have been approved.
“What about your meeting?” she asked.
He shrugged. “It’s just a phone conference, and it’ll be quick. I’ll order, you answer the door, and I’ll meet you on the sofa.”
Just like old times. But it wasn’t. Back then, she thought, they’d been falling in love.
She knew better now.
Now it was just her. The chances of her walking away without a broken heart were passing nil at the speed of light, but he was still hers. He might never love her, but at least he wanted to share his life with her. She forced herself to smile. “Pizza would be great.”
Chapter Eight
Thirty minutes later, Chloe was kicked back on an Italian leather sofa trying—and failing—to keep Knox from stealing her pepperoni. If he’d been on the phone five minutes longer, she could have had at least one slice in peace, but no such luck.
“Eat your own,” she groused, punctuating the words by jabbing her elbow into his side.
He dodged easily the brunt of her attack, then countered with an utterly wounded look. “I like extra.”
“Then order extra.”
“Can’t,” he said. “Extra pepperoni upsets the balance. Changes the flavor.”
“Order extra on the side, then. I’m sure you can make that happen.”
He shook his head. “Nope. It won’t taste the same if it doesn’t come on the pizza.”
Chloe rolled her eyes. “Did it ever occur to you that my piece doesn’t taste the same after you’ve pilfered from it?”
“All in your imagination,” he said, wisely ducking before the words had fully left his mouth. But he quickly straightened. “Oh, look. There’s my worthy opponent.”
Chloe peered at the screen, reading the caption. “Charlie Jackson?”
Knox looked at her, brow raised. “Yep, that’s him. Have you been under a rock?”
More like under Knox. “I’ve been a little busy the past two days.” In reality, she’d probably seen his opponent’s name while stalking Knox online that morning, but she’d been a little more interested in his personal life…then intrigued by the fact she’d found little of it. He’d escorted a couple of dates to dinners and such, but the gossips had taken the time to point out that they’d left in separate limos. Not one photograph of him with anyone seemed to hint at intimacy, not that that meant anything. She’d yet to find a single image of her with Knox, and they’d been together for months.
He went for another piece of her pepperoni and came up empty. Without missing a beat, he said, “He’s been making noise against Rex for months.”
“Yeah, well, I haven’t exactly followed Rex’s career,” Chloe said, noting that Knox called his father by his first name. She thought that interesting, but she didn’t ask.
“Now that Rex is out, Jackson turned on me.” Knox grabbed the remote and turned up the volume.
Charlie Jackson faced the camera with an unmistakable air of superiority, complete with a puffed-out chest and a smirk. “Knox Hamilton’s only claim to fame is his father, who now leaves the office in disgrace. Knox doesn’t have any Senate experience—”
“Please,” Knox said, hitting mute. “And he does?”
“What does he do?”
“Aside from being a pain in the ass? He’s an ambulance-chasing lawyer. Even with Rex’s accumulation of so-called minor indiscretions, he’s still beaten this guy soundly in three elections.”
Chloe suddenly regretted her avoidance of all things Knox—for a DC reporter, her lack of knowledge of the finer details was almost embarrassing. But she didn’t need to rehash the destruction of their relationship. Moreover, her focus of late had been on Rex, and for good reason. “So why hasn’t anyone who can actually beat Rex taken him on?”
“For all his personal faults, Rex is a damn good politician, and he’s got a strong record and appeal across the aisle—both parties love him. That makes him really hard to beat, so no one really wants to run against him.”
“So why aren’t they all jumping in now? The usual reasons?”
Knox shrugged. “Someone might, but I put my foot in the door the moment Rex cracked it open, and I’ve been polling well. You don’t have as much time to prepare for a special election as you would a general election, so the money has to be there. You know how things work in this arena. A successful campaign requires a lot of cash, and a few weeks isn’t much time to launch a campaign, secure backers, and put the money toward winning votes. I’ve got the advantage of the family name—not just my father, but my grandfather before him—and Jackson has been after this seat for years. We were both in a position to strike. Jackson has a better chance of defeating me than he did Rex, but it’ll be hard for him to pull off.”
They’d just turned back to the TV when the doorbell rang. Knox tossed the remote on the coffee table and stood. “That would be Toby.”
Toby Russo, campaign manager extraordinaire. And, because he’d likely pushed Knox to fall in line with the poll results, probably a big part of the reason she had a ring on her finger.
“Nice place,” Toby said as Knox led him into the room. “You must be Chloe.”
Chloe stood. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“And you. It’s good to have you on board.”
On board?
Knox pointed toward the TV while Toby helped himself to a slice of pizza. Knox glared over the pizza theft but didn’t mention it. “Chloe and I were just discussing the many qualities of my opponent.”
“None of them worthy, I presume.”
Knox shrugged. “He puts up a good show.”
“He’s really playing up that like-father-like-son angle. It’s a good th
ing you found someone quickly.”
Chloe winced. Apparently Knox’s Only-You speech meant more to her than she’d realized. She could have done without Toby’s blunt assessment.
“Hey, man. I told you…if Chloe had said no, we’d be having this same old conversation about me needing a wife all the way up through election day, win or lose.”
“More likely the latter,” Toby muttered. Clearly they’d gone rounds on the subject.
“So be it, then. I have no intention of being elected on a deception.” He graced Chloe with a smile that turned her knees to mush. “What am I, if not my word?”
Toby snorted. “Channeling Shakespeare, from the sound of it.”
She wasn’t sure what to make of Knox’s campaign manager. He seemed…analytical. But to navigate the turgid political waters of DC, a person needed to be wired a little differently.
Toby turned to Chloe. “Did he tell you we met at Yale?”
“Excuse me,” Knox said. “Are you hitting on my fiancee?”
Slack jawed, Toby turned to Knox. “Because I went to Yale?”
“No, because you want her to know you went to Yale.”
“Well, hell, earlier today I was at a bus stop. Am I now trying to get her to have my baby?”
Chloe cleared her throat. “I’m pretty sure that wasn’t in my contract.”
“I’m glad someone knows the difference between business and pleasure.”
Oh, the irony. Because that person was so not her.
“Back off,” Knox growled.
Toby raised his palms in surrender. “Done. You keep this up and I’m bringing a tranquilizer gun with me next time. Big game.”
Chloe laughed. Turning to Toby, she said, “Yale, huh?”
He blinked. “Are you trying to get me killed?” Then in a stage whisper he added, “Apparently he’s the only one allowed to get personal in here.”
If only he would.
Toby looked at Chloe and tipped his head toward Knox. “Have you done your research on him? Memorized his life story?”
She wasn’t entirely sure he was joking. He seemed a stickler for details. “He graduated top of his class from Yale with a degree in political science. Served as a legislative staffer to a congressman friend of his father’s, which led to a position as his chief of staff, from which he currently has a leave of absence until this election is decided.”
The Marriage Agenda Page 6