Oh no, that's her tell. We both have one. I bite my nails to the quick, and she fidgets nonstop with her hair.
“Mom….”
Shit. This is bad.
“You're pregnant,” I blurt before covering my mouth with both hands. My pulse skyrockets with dread.
“What?” She groans. “No! I've told you a thousand times I'm still a virgin, and that's not going to change any time soon. I don't even have a boyfriend.”
“Thank fuck,” I mutter into my hands. The relief at her denial fades as a new worry seeps into my thoughts. “You're dying.”
“Now you're ridiculous.”
“What? You're acting more dramatic than usual. It's making me nervous.”
“Well, then give me two seconds to explain what's going on.”
“You need to speak faster! The suspense is killing me.”
“Mom!” she squeaks, smacking a hand over her eyes. “Your first assumptions are pregnancy and death?”
I lift a shoulder in a noncommittal shrug, then circle my hands in the space between us, urging her to tell me what the hell is going on.
“After I graduate next month, I won't… I mean, I'm not—”
I hold up a hand, palm out. “Don't even say it. Not a chance.”
“Mom,” Taeler pleads, her voice taking on a high-pitched tone. “Just hear me out.”
I shake my head and shove off the couch. Her eyes stay glued on me as I pace the narrow hallway. “You're going to school, and that's final.”
“I can't afford it. You can't afford it.”
I flinch, her words a knife to my tender heart.
“It's not your fault,” she whispers. Her beautiful blue eyes dance between mine searching, pleading. She stands and grips my shoulders, stopping my pacing. “It is what it is. I'm not upset; I don't feel cheated. You've given me everything you can. I know that. Now, for me, after graduation, it's time to support myself. To be an adult.”
“You're not an adult,” I grumble. Lifting a hand, I slide my fingers through her blonde hair. We shuffle closer, her forehead finding my shoulder as she releases a long exhale.
“Per the state, yeah, I am. I know you want to change my mind, but you won't.” Her words are muffled against my shirt. She's right; I won't change her mind. Taeler is as stubborn as an old mule—a trait she inherited from her father, obviously. “You think I don't pick up on all the stress you're under to pay those crazy student loans each month plus the other zillion bills? I don't want that for me. I'll go full time at the factory after graduation and save up. As I have money, I'll take courses at the junior college.”
Lips to her hair, I smile. She's smart, wise even—a trait she received from me, obviously.
“Mom, I know you're behind on a lot of bills, including the trailer payment.” Failure settles in my gut like a heavy rock. “I know you're on the verge of losing it, and then what will you do? Live at that crappy office the city lets you use? I'll figure this out on my own, promise. I can't sit back and watch you sink deeper in debt because of me. Please just let me do this, for you.”
I tuck my nose into her hair and inhale deeply. “I want you to have so much, so much more than I ever had,” I whisper past the knot of unshed tears lodged in my throat. “I'm sorry.”
She deserves a better life than this, a mother who can provide more—be more. It's not for lack of trying, that’s for fucking sure. I've worked my ass off, yet I’m still here scraping my way through life. I'm utterly exhausted. Nothing I've done is enough to pull me out of the economic status I was born into. I've done what I can for a better life for myself and Taeler, but every time, despite my hard work, I keep failing. Some days I hope for that one chance, one opportunity to prove I'm more than this trailer park, more than an addict’s daughter, more than this sleepy town. To ram my success down the throats of everyone who's judged, sneered, and laughed at my hope of breaking the cycle.
I've put in the work, put myself through undergrad and law school, yet the stupid poverty fate gods keep diverting me back to this path lined with bills I can't pay. One would think my résumé, University of Texas at Austin and then on to Harvard Law, would be enough to boost my status, to show everyone in town I'm more than who they judged me to be. But no, that would disrupt the tiny predestined box they want to fit me into.
I press my lips to Taeler's hair, murmuring a quick good-night. My heart sinks as she shuffles down the hall to the single bedroom.
Even with the odds stacked against me, I still have hope. Hope that one day I'll get a chance, that my luck will change for the better. Who knows, maybe the stars will align and I'll get that chance to prove to everyone I'm destined for so much more than this.
And maybe one day I'll have a unicorn as a pet and a genie as a best fucking friend too.
* * *
I jam a red, indented finger against the On/Off button again and again, each time more aggressively. “Come on, you lazy piece of shit,” I curse under my breath. “Work. I'm freezing my tits off here.” Still not even a flicker of heat. “I will toss your sorry ass into the closest dumpster if you don't turn on right now,” I yell at the ancient space heater.
A click, then the smell of something burning, and finally the rusted metal heating elements flare to life.
Still bent over the contraption, I give it a condescending smirk and a hard pat. “That's what I thought.”
“You're talking to the heater again,” a female voice croons from the door. “I thought we talked about keeping your crazy under wraps.”
Standing tall, I look over my shoulder and stick my tongue out. “Sometimes these things need a reminder of who's the boss around here.”
“Right,” Jennifer says with a chuckle. “I'm going out for a break. Want to come with?”
Peering through the dirty window of my mayoral office, I catch a tree's green-dotted branches bending in the hostile Texas wind. I walked out this morning without a warm jacket, and it turned out colder than I expected. A Texas April is a fickle time for weather. One day it's beautiful, the hint of spring making you whip out your flops, but then the next, it’s bitter-ass cold like today.
“I do, but not outside. Forgot my coat.” I glance to the window again and tilt my head toward it with raised brows. “I won't tell if you don't.”
A sneaky grin spreads up her cheeks as she nods in agreement. “You're the boss. I can't say no, can I?”
Hands raised, fingers tapping, I let out my best impression of an evil chuckle. “I love all this power.”
“Every day you're even stranger.” Jennifer gives me a concerned once-over as I shove open the office window. We both visibly shiver as a blast of cold wind swirls into the tiny office. “Are you getting enough sleep? Maybe a lack of vitamin D is making you odd.”
“I'm missing D, that's for sure,” I say around the cigarette pressed between my front teeth. “I can't remember the last time I had sex.”
“What about that guy you met a few months back? Brad… Brian… whatever his name was?”
I roll my eyes and blow a billowing cloud of smoke out the window. “Sorry, I retract the earlier statement from the record. What I meant was I haven't had good sex lately. That guy was a mistake.” I shake my head at the memory. “He was super nice and paid for dinner, but he was too….”
“Sensitive?” Jennifer interjects as she leans toward the window, blowing a puff of smoke out into the cold.
“No.”
“Hairy?”
“No, he was just—”
“Small in the one area that counts.” She gives me a knowing grin. “I'm referring to his penis.”
I let out an incredulous laugh. “I gathered that. And no to all that. He was too… handsy.”
“Handsy,” she deadpans.
“Yeah, too touchy.” I shrug as I turn my focus to the glowing ember at the end of the almost-spent cigarette between my fingers.
“Um, Randi, not sure what kind of sex you've had, but I’m pretty sure good sex requires
you to be touchy.”
Again, my shoulders rise and fall. “He took his time too.” My body shakes on a shudder. “Why can't it be good, no-touchy, fast sex? Is that too much to ask?”
“You sound like a guy.”
“What? If it takes too long, then my mind wanders, and then I get antsy.” I wave my hand dismissively. “So anyway, back to the date. I finished myself off at home that night, then never returned his calls.”
“It’s a miracle you've ever had an orgasm,” she remarks with a snort. Her eyes widen at my one-shoulder shrug. “Randi, please tell me you've had an orgasm from sex.”
“Technically?” I glance out the window and flick the now-extinguished cigarette butt into the bucket we keep below for break emergencies like this. “Yeah, I think so, but how do you—”
“Seriously?” a man's voice says, cutting me off. “Typical lazy-ass politician.”
I cross both arms across my chest and lean a shoulder against the wall. “Ben.” My baby daddy. My first love. My first heartbreak. My first everything. Tall with shaggy blond hair, crystal blue eyes, and solid muscle from working on his parents’ farm—how could fifteen-year-old me not fall in love with him? Too bad his aversion to responsibility wasn't as glaring as his good looks.
“Randi,” he says with a dip of his chin. “Jennifer. What are you two talking about?”
“Did you know Randi has never—”
Jennifer squeaks into my palm that's quickly suctioned over her mouth.
“Nothing. What are you doing here?” I cringe as a wet tongue laps over my palm. Nose scrunched in disgust, I yank my hand from her lips and wipe my palm down my jeans. Glaring at Jennifer, I shut the window tight. Her unconcerned giggle follows me as I take the two steps back to my chair and fall into it.
“Ah, that.” Ben tugs off his ball cap and scratches the crown of his head. “I wanted to stop by, Taeler mentioned she spoke to you last night about her decision on college. Wanted to check in, see how you were doing with her news.”
My hands ball into tight fists beneath the solid wood desk. “You knew, and you didn't tell me? How long have you known?”
“She asked me not to,” he says, widening his stance and shoving his hands into the back pockets of his jeans.
“Fuck that, Ben,” I grit out. Standing, I press both palms on the desk and lean forward. “Co-parenting means we talk about things. We don't keep stuff from each other. I was fucking blindsided. If you would've done the right thing and told me her decision before she talked to me, I would've had a counterargument prepared.”
“It's only college, Rand.” Ben twists the toe of his worn work boot into the thin carpet. “It's not like going to college did you any good.”
True and false.
True, I'm in debt from the various student loans plus the few credit cards I maxed out to cover the daily expenses the loans, grants, and scholarships didn't cover. False that college didn't do me any good. The changes and growth that happen during those years are priceless. It was difficult, and I might have to file for bankruptcy soon, but priceless just the same.
“It's about getting out of here, seeing what the world has to offer outside of this small town.” I focus on the peeling ceiling, searching for the right words. “It builds confidence, character—”
“Debt.”
“Not everything's about money,” I counter with a bit of annoyance in my tone.
“Right.” He scoffs. “Look around you, Rand; everything is about money. It's all about who has it and who doesn't. If you haven't looked in the fucking mirror recently, you're in the group who doesn't fucking have it.”
“Not yet, anyway.”
All three of our heads jerk in the direction of the door, toward the deep, gravelly male voice.
My muscles seize, my lungs forgetting their one job as I lock eyes with the beautiful blue-eyed man. All words and coherent thoughts vanish into thin air. I open my mouth once, twice, but not a single sound makes it out.
Holy shit.
What in the hell is he doing here?
Chapter Two
Randi
“Miss Sawyer,” the coldhearted asswipe, also known as Kyle Birmingham, says. His voice is just as icy and degrading as it was years ago.
My tongue sticks to the roof of my dry mouth. “What… what are you doing here?” I finally manage to squeak out.
Kyle fucking Birmingham.
In my office, of all places.
The last time I saw him, his middle finger was pointed to the sky as he glared at me from across the auditorium after graduation. We hate—nope, that’s too soft of a word. We loathe each other. Opposites in every way. We clashed, fought, and debated constantly. This is the very man whose one mission in life those three years was to make my life miserable. There were only a handful of days that I went without breaking down from the constant bullying.
Kyle inspects his suit jacket, brushing off a piece of invisible lint. “I made an appointment.”
My gaze darts from him to Jennifer, who's too busy drooling over Mr. Jackass to notice the beseeching look I’m throwing her way.
“Jenn?” I ask. Jenn’s been my secretary for the past few years and knows I hate being unprepared, like now.
Her eyes reluctantly swing from him to meet mine, her face morphing into a cringe. “I told you. When you first came in, remember? Someone from his office called this morning demanding I make room on your schedule for someone from their office to meet with you. They never gave a name, just reserved the time slot.”
“Oh yeah,” I grumble more to myself than Jennifer. Mornings are spent at the small, and failing, family law practice I founded after law school, and afternoons are here acting as mayor for our small town.
“What do you want, Kyle?” Resting back in the rickety chair, I run a hand across my forehead, sealing my eyes shut in an attempt to get my bombarding thoughts together. The asshole is up to something, no doubt about that. If Kyle Birmingham flew from Washington, DC, to our small town, I need to be on high alert.
“You need some coffee or something?” Jennifer asks, her tone dripping in concern.
With a tight, pursed-lip smile, I nod. The silence in the room grows as Jennifer hurries out of the office for the small kitchenette just outside the door, catty-corner to her desk.
“We need to talk,” Kyle says, answering my earlier question, cutting his eyes to a tense Ben. “Alone.”
“I don’t think so,” Ben states, nostrils flaring. Have to hand it to Ben; it takes balls not to shrink under Kyle’s direct scrutiny. I sure as hell never figured out how to stand up to him.
“It’s fine, Ben. Thanks though.” I force a fake smile to ease some of the building tension. “I'll hear Mr. Birmingham out, and then he'll be on his way. Right?” My hazel eyes slide back, locking with Kyle's ice-blue ones.
Jaw tight, he inclines his head in acceptance.
Eyes narrowed at the bastard, I blindly take the hot, disposable coffee cup from Jennifer's shaking hand. Still smiling, I motion for her and Ben to give us privacy. One more direct glare from Ben to Kyle, and then the door clicks closed. Kyle takes two steps deeper into the room. His expensive cologne fills the office, burning the inside of my nostrils. He always did put way too much of that shit on.
Lips against the rim of the cup, I take a slow sip of black coffee, peering over the edge to watch him survey the office.
His full upper lip curls. His scowl deepens when his attention falls back to where I sit behind the cluttered desk.
I frown at the minuscule shake of his head.
Not surprising that he finds me and the office lacking. With men like Kyle, nothing is good enough. The Birmingham name is a powerhouse in Washington, DC. Every member of the family is in some way involved in politics and wealthy beyond anything I can comprehend. He’s never had to wonder if he would eat, only when and what. And of course, he's never worked a full day, something daddy dearest ensured by paying for his education plus a generous allowance.
How do I know this?
He constantly boasted of his good fortune, being born into the right family. It added to the various ways he bullied me back in Boston. The day he learned I was Harvard's 'good deed for the century' by allowing someone of my background and financial status to attend the prestigious school, he reminded me and everyone else of the broke scum I was.
His words, not mine.
“Let's get this started, Walmart. I need to get back to the jet before your condemned office falls apart with me in it.”
I school my features to hide the blow to my fragile confidence, but the heat still builds beneath my cheeks. I’d almost forgotten the nickname he graced me with all those years ago. Fucking tool.
“Just get to the point of why you’re here so I can tell you to go screw yourself and you can go.”
Eyebrow raised, he tsks. The feeble chair wobbles as he settles into the seat. “Nice office.”
“Nice face.” Well hell. What am I twelve?
“You thought so before.”
“I chalk that brief lapse of sound judgment up to a sporadic instance of psychosis. Plus, I thought that before I knew what a gigantic asshole you are.”
His cocky smile falters, lips pressing into a hard line. “You and everyone else, it appears,” he says with a huff.
“What in the hell are you talking about?”
“We'll get to that in a moment. First, I was surprised when an advisor of mine told me of your status as mayor in this shithole town. I didn’t know you were interested in politics.”
“Probably because you don't know a thing about me,” I hiss, leaning over the desk. “I wanted to make a difference in my hometown.” My main drive to come back to Boone was to be close to Taeler after missing so much of her life. A year after I moved home, the local elections came around, and the dumb fuck who’d won the previous cycles, yet done nothing to improve the town, was running uncontested—again. Knowing enough about the ins and outs of being a public servant, I decided to kill two birds with one stone. Be in a position where I could help and be in a position of power to change everyone’s view of me.
Power Play: Power Play Series Book 1 Page 2