by Paige Rion
Andi frowned. “He’ll never help you. Not with a campaign coming up next fall. He won’t want to risk his image.”
Rachel thought about Marietta. She contemplated her father’s link to Rex and the certainty that she was missing something, while he concealed something far greater than she could imagine, and she knew she could get him. For the first time in her life, she would stand up to her father. Really stand up to him.
She would use all the weapons in her arsenal and get him to risk himself to help her.
“I can’t explain. You’ll just have to trust me. But I’m almost certain he will help us. In the meantime, until I strike a deal with him, we need to keep you hidden.”
* * *
She waited in her father’s office, listening to the ticking sound of the clock on his desk, marking her anxiety with the passing time. She examined the pretentious room with fresh eyes. Wall-to-wall shelves of books lined walls full of secrets. The humidor, filled, no doubt, with the best Cuban cigars available, and the sidebar with a crystal decanter of scotch, sat across from her. Old black and whites of Callaway Cove in past times, served as a reminder of the history of town, her father’s many framed accolades among them. The huge cherry desk gleamed as if it had just been polished and a gilded frame—one of their entire family, her parents, her brothers, and herself—sat on the dark wood. The portrait of a happy family.
When her father entered, she sat upright in his chair, alert and ready for whatever this conversation might bring.
He stopped in his tracks, surprise registering in his eyes as his mouth set in a firm line of disapproval. “Rachel? What are you doing? You know I don’t allow anyone in my office.”
“Yes, well. Today’s the exception.”
He sighed and opened the file cabinet by the door, removing a manila envelope, then bustling about the room, gathering his things. “Whatever this is about, I don’t have time. I have a meeting to get to.”
“I need your help,” Rachel said, standing.
“Well, I’ll help later.”
Rachel shook her head. “No. Now.”
Her father paused mid-stride and narrowed his eyes at her. “Last I checked, I gave the orders. I didn’t take them. Rachel, I really don’t have ti—”
“I know about Marietta. I know why you fired her, and I know about the wire transfer of pay-off money.”
He froze, his pupils dilating slightly. His breathing seemed to stop entirely as his chest stilled.
Taking a deep breath, she forced her gaze to remain steady, her voice sharp. “And I know about Rex. I know about all the lies.”
He said nothing, and she prayed her bluff hit the mark. His arms dropped to his side, and he gently set his briefcase down. His throat moved as he swallowed. “How...Wh-what are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. I need something from you, and you’re going to help me if you want me to stay quiet.” Rachel took a step forward, unable to stop now. She couldn’t blow it. Carma depended on her.
His forehead creased and his eyes turned cold. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Really? Because Rex does.”
She got him. She could see it in the rigid set of his jaw and the hint of panic in his ice-blue eyes.
“You have no idea what you’re doing. If you say anything...”
“Which is why you’ll help me.”
He exhaled, then tugged on the bottom of his suit jacket. “What do you want me to do? And please tell me it has nothing to do with this Rex character.”
“No. My friend, Carma...”
“I know who she is. When she skipped bail, the media had a fun time glorifying the fact that you two were best friends. Tell me this has nothing to do with her.”
Rachel gasped. “You knew she was in trouble?”
“Of course I did. Local news got ahold of the story, but I effectively crushed it. I can’t have it look like I raised a daughter who befriends felons, can I?”
Taken aback, Rachel swallowed, trying to think of what to say. She needed to get back on track and so she fisted her hands and continued. “She’s back in town, and she’s pregnant. There are some things that happened to her that you don’t know about, reasons for what she did, even if they don’t excuse her behavior, and I want you to help her. Maybe you can get her a lesser sentence or get the charges dismissed.”
He laughed. “That’s ridiculous. She stole several thousand dollars. That’s a felony. There’s no way they’ll dismiss her case.”
Rachel shrugged. “Okay, then. If you can’t help me, maybe I can find someone who will. Or maybe there are a lot of people who’d be really interested in what you’ve been up to.”
He grabbed her arm and glanced toward the door, as if someone might be listening, then hissed, “You go to anyone with the things you know, it will ruin me and destroy everything, our whole family.”
It was that bad?
Rachel swallowed, mustering the last of her courage. Why did she get the feeling that she was playing with fire? This would be a whole lot easier if she had any clue what was really going on. Whatever her father’s secrets were, he desperately wanted them to remain classified.
“It won’t matter will it? Because you’ll do what I ask. You have to. Rachel pushed her shoulders back and gritted her teeth as she spoke. “If you don’t, I will share every single thing I know, no matter the repercussions. While it may affect all of us, the person it will affect the most is you.”
A glimmer of fear moved through his eyes. He rolled his head on his neck, cracking it. “Fine. I’ll see what I can do. But I’m not a miracle worker. She still might get time. She definitely won’t get off scot-free.”
Rachel nodded. “Understood. I have every confidence you can pull this off. After what you’ve been doing, I’m sure you can manage this one thing and get away with it.”
“I might need details about her...situation.”
“Whatever you need.”
The muscle in her father’s jaw ticked as he stared at her, looking slightly shell-shocked, and Rachel couldn’t help but feel a surge of satisfaction. She smiled as her father shoved his hands in his pockets and squeezed his eyes shut.
When he opened them, he said, “You’re still coming to the mayoral dinner tonight, I presume? Or are you disregarding all things that will benefit the family these days?”
Rachel had forgotten, and the reminder took her aback. She couldn’t think of anything she wanted to do less at the moment, but now wasn’t the time for arguments.
“Of course I’ll be there,” she said.
“Rex is not to be in attendance. If you need a last-minute date, I can arrange one.”
Rachel’s hands fisted by her side. How is it that he could still be so assuming, so pompous, even with all he’s hiding?
“That won’t be necessary.”
“After the dinner, your mother and I will be flying to DC for some business. I will take care of the,” he cleared his throat, “Carma business, when I get back. I assume three days isn’t too long to wait?”
“Three days is fine.”
But the days of me doing things your way are over.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Rachel stayed in her room the rest of the afternoon. Promptly at six, she arrived at the mayoral dinner, spent over an hour there, dining over poached salmon and stale conversation, until she had paid her dues—at least enough to ensure her father wouldn’t throw a fit and back out on their deal.
By the time she got home it was after seven. She pulled her phone from her purse and glanced at the screen one last time to be sure Rex hadn’t called. He hadn’t and she itched to call him¸ but she hesitated. They had spent so much time together in such a short period. She didn’t want him to think her desperate or come on too strong. Especially now that she knew her feelings for him were real.
Sighing, she set the phone on her dresser and changed into a pair of jeans and sweater, then plopped down on her bed,
where she resolved herself to a night of television, alone. When her phone rang five minutes, she smiled at Rex’s name on the screen.
Trying to subdue the joy in her voice, she answered. “I was just thinking about you.”
“Great minds think alike, then, because I was thinking about myself, too.”
Rachel laughed. “Wow. What a charmer you are.”
He chuckled. “What I was thinking was that I really wanted to see you.”
“You were?” Rachel’s pulse jumped.
“Of course I was. But I have Molly all night.”
Rachel opened her mouth to speak, about to say, I love Molly, but stopped herself. Any use of the L-word would be forbidden at this point in their relationship, and she didn’t want him to think too much of it.
“I’d love to spend time with you and Molly.” She rolled her eyes. Somehow she’d managed to still use the one word she had tried to avoid.
“You sure? Isn’t there some fancy thing with your father tonight? I can’t imagine he would be okay with the star of his campaign missing it.”
Rachel snickered. “I already went and spent my required hour. Besides, I’m turning a new leaf. One in which I ignore any and all of my father’s demands and do what I want for a change.”
“Ah, I like this new side of you. Especially since it means I get to monopolize your evening, instead of him.”
“Well, I decided it was about time I take control. So, how about I meet you at your place? I can be there in fifteen.”
“Sounds perfect.”
I couldn’t agree more.
* * *
Containing Molly’s excitement at the prospect of an evening with Rachel had been near impossible. After she arrived at Colton’s place, they went out for ice cream, then wound up at the movie theater, where they planned to see the latest in cinematic creations. While they waited for their show to start, they spent the passing time in the arcade attached to the theater, where Mol worked at draining the last of Colton’s cash.
She moved from pinball to a racing game. Rachel trailed next to her, watching intently and commenting on her game-playing skills, while Colton assessed her demeanor, wondering if she was bored out of her mind or just being polite. It wasn’t quite the date he would want to take someone he had feelings for, but as much as it shamed him to say it, this one time, he was happy to have Molly as a shield. He had done a lot of thinking over the past couple days, trying to distance himself from her, and he knew he needed to detach himself from the situation. He figured a date with Molly as a buffer would be the best choice to stifle the intimacy he so easily felt in Rachel’s presence.
Easier said than done.
Watching her interact with Molly wasn’t helping. They may not have the one-on-one time required for romance, but the way she was so natural with his daughter, only made him wonder what if. What if this weren’t for a case? What if they had met outside the confines of the investigation? What would they be like together, then? The questions haunted him.
“Not your typical date, is it?” he asked her. “I remember the days when dates didn’t involve seeing the latest Disney flick or video games.” He took a step closer to her and shoved his hands in his pockets before he could touch her. “Are you bored out of your mind yet?”
Rachel glanced at him and rolled her eyes. “Yes. Bored to tears, actually. Can’t you tell?” She nudged him in the arm. “I’m having a great time. You and Molly are perfect company.”
“You wouldn’t rather be dancing the night away with some guy in a stuffy suit?” he asked, raising his brow at her, and hating that he asked for all the wrong reasons. Because he wanted her to want to be there with them, instead of in some fancy ballroom, and he worried this simple of a life wouldn’t ever be enough for her. And the fact that he wondered whether their life would be adequate for Rachel both frightened and angered him. How was this distancing himself?
Rachel groaned and shook her head. “Been there, done that. It’s not so great. This is a million times better. You know what’s funny, though?”
“The fact that I have a misplaced Barbie shoe in my back pocket?”
Rachel laughed. “Do you really?”
She wrapped her arms around him, looking him in the eyes and boldly inching her hands down to his behind, where she skimmed over his back pockets. Smiling, she said, “You do, indeed.”
Colton’s breath caught in his throat. God, she was beautiful.
Her face was just inches from his, and he could make out the intricate pattern laced through the blue of her eyes, along with the floral scent of her perfume. He wanted to kiss her. More than anything.
Knowing he shouldn’t, he inched forward and brushed his mouth over hers. The gasp next to him, followed by the stifled chuckle, broke through his desire.
Pulling away, he glanced to Molly who stared at them, her hands clasped over her mouth at the site of her old man kissing a woman. Shaking his head, he took a step back and muttered, “Okay. Show’s over. Play another game,” he said, handing her a five-dollar bill.
Squealing in delight, Molly took the money and scurried off to the change machine.
Rachel cleared her throat and Colton reluctantly turned his attention to her, afraid to meet her gaze.
“As I was saying,” she said. “The funny thing is that this date with you and Molly is probably our most normal date yet. Think about it...We met in the casino, which was somewhat unorthodox, and on our first date you choked a man. On our second date, my missing friend appeared after months, pregnant, only to vanish into thin air again. And on our third date, after my father threatened you and insisted I never see you again, I found out he was working with you and lying to me.”
Colton smiled and rubbed his jaw. “I see your point.”
“Not to mention we’ve sort of done things in reverse, as far as getting to know each other.”
“How so?” he asked, intrigued.
“Well, instead of starting off with basic information like what our hobbies are, what our favorite color is, we discussed how my father controls my life. You shared your deepest darkest secrets about your past with me, which whether you realize it or not, was the same as sharing your fears...” She trailed off, growing quiet, as Molly returned, change in hand and sat at a game across from them.
Colton bit the inside of his cheek. She was right. They started off with some pretty heavy stuff. “It’s like we skipped right over the small talk, all the small stuff, and went right for the meat of who we are.”
“Maybe that’s why I feel so connected to you.” Rachel murmured. She reached out and grabbed his hands, lacing her fingers through his and bringing them between their bodies.
“There has to be some explanation for it.”
“Are you guys going to kiss again?” Molly asked, scrunching up her nose.
“Aren’t you supposed to be blowing through my money right now?” Colton asked, as if he minded, but he couldn’t disguise the laughter in his voice. Turning back to Rachel, he said, “So maybe we need to backtrack. What’s your favorite color?”
Smiling, Rachel pursed her lips. “That’s a tough one, but...definitely red.”
“Mine is purple.”
Rachel tipped her head back and laughed. “Purple? No.”
“It really is,” Molly chimed in, giggling.
“What’s wrong with purple? It’s a perfectly masculine color.”
“Okay, whatever you say,” Rachel said, raising her hands and biting her lower lip in a way Rex suspected was to stifle more laughter.
“You mix blue and red to get purple. Blue is definitively masculine and red in neutral. It’s the color of fire engines. There’s nothing girly about that. Thus, purple is perfectly acceptable as a favorite color for a man.”
“True.” Rachel nodded, grinning. “Okay...what about food? When you snack, is it chips or something sweet?”
“Total sweet tooth.”
“Good. Me too.”
“My turn,” Rex said.
“Biggest fear. Go.”
“Spiders.” Rachel shuddered.
“Snakes. Favorite place?”
“Hmm...” Rachel paused, twirling a strand of her long blond hair between her fingers. “Paris. I’ve been there once and would love to go back. What about you?”
“The beach. Any beach. If it has sand, waves, and sun, I’m there.”
“So, you must like it here in Callaway pretty well, then. Maybe it’s not the surf of the ocean, but there is water. There are waves, and there is sand, even if it’s a bit more shell and river rock.”
“The sand”—he made air quotes—“cuts into your feet and you can’t surf the waves.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “The sand isn’t that bad. You surf?”
“No.”
Rachel held her arms out, as if to say, “Then what’s the problem.”
“But the bigger the waves, the more fun. The ocean totally trumps the lake any day.”
“No way.”
“Name one advantage, just one, of the lake and beaches here to that of a real beach and I’ll give you anything you want. Because I bet there is none.”
“Anything?” Rachel asked, her eyes alight.
“Anything.” Colton confirmed, his expression smug. Nothing topped the ocean.
After a moment, her lips spread and she smirked. “No sharks. There are absolutely no sharks in the lake.”
Colton stilled, his smug expression wavering.
No sharks? How did he not think of that?
Scratching his head, he tried to think of a loophole, some way out of this one, but there simply was no way to trump the no sharks answer. “Shit.”
“Got ya,” she quipped. When he grimaced, she pressed her lips into a firm line, and once again he got the impression she was trying not to laugh at him.
“What if I like sharks?”
Rachel shook her head. “No one likes sharks.”
Colton readied himself to protest, opening his mouth as she added, “At least not while they’re swimming in the surf. And marine biologists don’t count.”