by Law, Kim
“Wait until you try the chocolate cake I made.”
Oh boy. She gulped and looked around as if contemplating escape. He was very good at pulling her under his spell.
“It has dark chocolate shavings from Belgium and France. Only the best for you.”
The sight of her camera sitting on the counter a few feet behind her reminded her she hadn’t been filming the last few minutes. “Crap! I need to get you on camera, talking about learning to cook.”
When she started to move away, JP captured her around the wrist. “Answer my question, first. Is it working on you?”
“You’re seriously trying to woo me with your cooking?”
“I seriously am.”
“I’m not even here for dinner.”
He eyed her as if considering having her for a meal. “You’ll eat.”
“It won’t work, you know. I can’t be the woman you need by your side.” But maybe she didn’t believe that quite as much as she once had.
She stared up at him, begging with her eyes for him not to do as she wanted and kiss her, but he didn’t listen. He lowered his mouth.
But before making contact, he changed course and touched a soft kiss to her cheek, then grazed his way over to her ear. A shiver shook her body. “I’m not giving up on us, Vega,” he whispered.
“Ahem.”
Vega froze at the sound of someone behind them. She turned to find Emma, Cat, and Cat’s kids all watching the stove action from the door. Cat wore a look of cockiness. Emma did not.
“I’m so sorry,” Vega hurried to explain. “I…uh…was sampling the…uh…”
“Sauces.” JP’s deep voice was tinged with laughter. “You were sampling the sauces. I was the one thinking of sampling other things.”
Vega grabbed her camera while JP grumbled something about taking their elevator key away from them. He moved to the convection oven sunk into the wall and checked on something inside.
“I’m so sorry, Emma. Cat. I know I wasn’t being professional.”
Emma crossed her arms over her chest and gave her son a look. “I very much doubt it was your doing, dear.” She turned her gaze to Vega. “We just wanted to let you know we’re here and that Governor Chandler will be joining us a little later. You can go ahead with the interviews with Cat and the kids if you would like.”
“Tyler will be tired soon,” Cat joined in to explain. “You won’t want him on camera after that.”
“You’re planning to get Tyler?” JP asked, turning sharply back toward them.
“Sure.” Cat slid a hand over the shoulder of her youngest. “He loves his uncle, and he wants to talk about you for this.”
“I don’t think you should.”
“Why not?”
Vega watched the ping-ponging action between brother and sister.
“We’ve talked about this before, Cat. Tyler shouldn’t be exposed like that. We don’t want people giving him a hard time.”
“He has a mild case of dystonia, JP.” To Vega, she explained, “It’s a neurological disorder that, luckily for him, only affects movement in his right arm. That’s all.” She turned back to JP. “It’s not the dark ages. There is nothing wrong with him.”
“I didn’t say there was.”
Vega hadn’t thought to lift the camera for this argument, and she wasn’t about to now, but she would love to be catching JP’s emotion on camera, if only for her private viewing pleasure later. He may try to pretend to be a cold, emotionless tyrant, but the man ran deep.
He faced Vega. “If you insist on recording Tyler, you must make sure nothing about his disorder is visible in the final result.”
“Of course.” She nodded. “If that’s what you want. But I must say, I think Cat’s right. Plus, I was hoping to get you and Tyler interacting together.”
JP hardened his features to what she now thought of as his “public” version. “It’s not up for discussion.”
She silenced herself as Cat glared at her brother, her matching eyes shooting fire the same as JP’s, but Cat was no match for him. “Fine.” She turned to Vega. “But he wants to be on camera, so we’re getting him on camera.”
“Absolutely.” Vega glanced down at the boy who’d been watching the argument with interest and wondered why this seemed such a big deal for JP. Sure, he was a protective uncle, but this was the twenty-first century. Tyler barely had a disability, and making that public wouldn’t do anything to harm him. Would it?
She looked back at JP and studied him. Or was the issue deeper than Tyler?
She’d tuck that thought away for another time. Right now, she had an interview to conduct.
* * *
Vega kept one ear on the conversation going on in the hallway as she worked in the living room to get her lighting just right for the darker surroundings. During dinner, the sun had dropped, and the night sky now surrounded them, leaving the strategically placed lamps to cast an intimate glow around the room. It would have been better to film JP talking with the governor before eating, but JP had insisted they do it last.
Cat had disappeared to one of the guest rooms to gather up the now sleeping Tyler, and JP had followed to help. They now stood in the hallway having a heated, whispered conversation.
Vega glanced around to ensure she was still alone, then continued to eavesdrop. She wouldn’t normally be so crass, but she’d heard Cat mention the announcement, and Vega couldn’t help wanting to know what they were saying.
“Just because you are who you are, does not mean you have to do this. If taking this position isn’t what you want, then tell them no.”
“It’s okay.” JP’s voice was low and sounded worn out. “This will be good. It’ll make Mother happy.”
“But what you’ve never understood is that she’s happy as long as you’re happy,” Cat’s whisper bordered on urgent. “Yes, you remind her of Dad, but she has to move on as much as you do.”
“I miss him, Cat, but I’ve moved on from his death, just as you have.”
“I’m not talking about you moving on from his death, and you know it.” She sighed her frustration. “You need to follow your heart, JP, and don’t worry about letting anyone down but yourself.”
“I’m fulfilling my responsibility. I can do this. I will do this.”
Two beats of silence passed, and Vega caught herself straining in the direction of the quiet. What was going on?
Finally, Cat spoke again, this time sounding leery and unsure. “I ran into Evan Martens earlier today and ended up having a short conversation with him. If you turned this down, I think it’s something he’d be interested in.”
“I’ll accept just to keep that man from thinking he’s beaten me,” JP snapped, and Cat shushed him.
“All I’m saying is, you don’t have to,” she started again. “You can back out, and you won’t be leaving Governor Chandler in the lurch. He’ll still be left with a decent candidate.”
“Chandler confirmed to me this week that Martens wasn’t an option.”
“Oh, then—”
Becca came running through the room looking for her mother, and the conversation in the hallway abruptly ceased.
Based on the snippet of conversation, Vega suspected Cat had sensed the same thing as Vega. Being senator was not what JP wanted at all.
Cat came into the room, one kid draped over her shoulder and the other with her small arms wrapped around her waist, and smiled warmly at Vega. “It was nice to have seen you again. And I have to say, I thought you might pull this off and convince him to do the interview, but I wouldn’t have put money on it.”
Vega blushed. “It’s all thanks to you, I’m sure.”
“Oh, I doubt that.” Cat snickered. “I suspect you played hardball. That and the fact he doesn’t seem to be able to say no to you.”
Embarrassment flooded Vega, and she dipped her eyes. She didn’t want anyone thinking JP had allowed her to do this interview purely so he could sleep with her, even though she’d asked him that
very same thing at the time. “With this weekend’s press conference coming up, I merely helped persuade him it would be good for his political career. I’m sure he had others tell him the same.”
Cat shook her head and looked back and forth between Vega and JP. “I think you might be more into denial than he is.”
Before Vega could ask what she meant, the others came into the room, Cat and the kids departed, and Vega went into action filming JP sitting with his mother and the governor, committing to doing what Vega was almost positive was the last thing he wanted.
He shook Governor Chandler’s hand to seal the deal, and his mother beamed with pride.
“Jackson,” Emma said as she reached out and hugged her son. “I am so happy for you. This is what you’ve always wanted.”
The look of disgust that shot across JP’s features caused Vega to jerk her head back from the camera and blink. Wow.
* * *
“See me to the door, Jackson.”
His mother stood at the edge of the room, her purse over her forearm and her lips purposefully set, with clear intent of sharing some final words of wisdom before departing. She had her shoulder angled away from the governor, who practically hovered by her side, almost protectively.
JP almost laughed out loud. The man had it bad. He either needed to get over his infatuation or make a move already. JP was tired of watching the warm-up.
He straightened from the bar he’d been leaning against while waiting rather impatiently for his home to clear of everyone but Vega. They were down to two left. “What is it, Mother? Forget the way?”
She gave him the look, and he laughed. Her looks wouldn’t work anymore. He’d just committed himself to her dream. That instantly negated any future looks from being able to keep him in check.
Moving across the room, he tossed a “Be right back” over his shoulder. Vega was repacking her equipment, and as soon as he got his mother out of his house, the two of them could finally share some secrets.
It was the moment he’d been waiting for. Now or never.
She was not leaving tonight without the two of them figuring out if they stood a chance in hell of making it work. He also couldn’t imagine an answer of anything but yes.
They stepped into the foyer, and his mother blinked up at Douglas. “Would you be a dear and wait at the elevator for me?”
Geez, she really did have something she wanted to say. A sizzle of tension raced up the back of his neck. “What is it, Mother?”
She lowered her voice. “I wanted to talk about Vega.”
Douglas quietly closed the door behind him while JP studied his mother. “What about her?”
She peeked around him as if making sure Vega hadn’t followed them around the corner, then leaned in and whispered, “How serious are you about her? This is just a fling, right?”
His jaw clenched. She’d better not be about to stand there and suggest Vega was in any way not good enough for him. She may not be a debutante or come from money, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t fit in with the Davenports. Easily. He rolled his shoulders. “What does it matter?”
“I just…well, I wanted to talk to you about her. She’s a sweet girl and all, but I think—”
“No.”
She took a step back at his harsh tone. “No what?”
“No, we aren’t going to stand here and have a discussion about Vega while she’s twenty feet away in the other room.”
“But there are things I need to tell you. You need to know—”
“No.”
She harrumphed and planted each hand at her waist. “Now, Jackson, there’s simply no need to be rude.”
“Exactly. And talking about someone who’s in the other room is rude.” He took her by the elbow and turned her to the door. “You shouldn’t keep the governor waiting, Mother.”
Her feet dug into the rug for a brief second before apparently thinking better of it. She let him move her forward. “I’ll be by your office first thing in the morning. There are things you don’t know, Jackson. Things that could affect your plans.”
“I know all I need to.” And she had no idea just how big his plans were concerning Vega.
He opened the door and hustled her through before she could speak further. Edging his chin in Douglas’ direction, he released her. “Please see her to her car.”
JP said his goodbyes and closed the door, then went in search of Vega. It was time to come clean.
She stood by the piano, softly running her fingers over the ivories. “I had no idea you played.”
“Most people don’t.” He grabbed a candy from a dish on the sofa table. The crinkling of the plastic was the only noise in the room as he trod over the rug to stand directly beside her. He held out the butterscotch in question.
“No, thank you.” She fidgeted, picking up a lopsided bowl Becca had made for him in pottery class, then putting it back down, running her finger over the outline of a missing chunk from the lid of the piano, and just generally looking like she couldn’t figure out what to do with her hands. Finally, she tucked them behind her. “So who knows you play?”
“As of right now?” He popped the candy in his mouth. “My mother, my sister, her kids. And you.”
She glanced at him from beneath her lashes, her high heels—from the looks of them, a new pair—putting her even with his eyes. “That’s not many people.”
“Only the important ones.” He stroked a path down the middle of her forehead and smoothed over a tiny crease. “Why the frown?”
A small shrug was all she managed. “Just confused about some things.”
So was he.
“You look beautiful in my home. Did I mention that?”
“No,” she whispered.
He tugged her hands from behind her and turned them over to study the palm of each. Finally, he lifted first one, then the other, and planted kisses on the inside of her wrists. She visibly shivered.
“Will you play something for me?” she asked.
“I’d love to.”
He squeezed her hands together, then stepped back to allow her to escape. He then settled onto the stool and began to strum out a song that spoke of longing and hurts and love, all rolled into one.
His eyes closed as his fingers glided over the keys, and he imagined it was Vega’s body he was playing instead of the piano. He couldn’t figure out why she was the one, but he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he wanted her for his wife. And he did not want to blow that chance by moving too fast tonight.
When he finished, he opened his eyes and found her standing at the balcony doors, gazing out over the night sky.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he said.
She nodded but didn’t look his way. “Incredibly.”
“I often spend hours sitting here playing just so I can stare out over the city.”
“That would be nice,” she murmured.
He slipped his hands back to the keyboard and started again, this time pulling from memory one of Beethoven’s more well-known works. He knew he was good, and he hoped like hell he was not only impressing her, but also showing her a little piece of himself through the music. This had been the one thing that had come easy for him.
Not because he knew how to read music. Reading music had been as confusing as everything else. But because he could play by ear. His mother had bought him this very piano when he’d turned ten, and he’d thought that meant she was going to pay attention to him again.
When he opened his eyes this time, Vega leaned against the opposite end of the piano, looking perplexed.
“What is it?”
“You’re not playing to music. You must have a great memory.”
His lips curved in a smirk. “I have a terrific memory.” He’d had to, or he wouldn’t have survived school.
Not wanting to get too serious yet, he began another song, this one a beautiful ballad that made him think of Vega and how she always seemed a fraction away from running back behind the curtai
n she used to shield herself with so protectively. As he played, she inched closer until she finally slid onto the seat beside him.
She kept a sliver of space between them, but his tension eased with her there.
When the song ended, her lips flattened, and she asked bluntly, “Who’s the boy? If not yours, then whose? Your brother’s?”
He strummed his fingers in a quick up-and-down arpeggio. “My father’s.”
Next, he ran over the lower octaves, producing a more sinister sound and ignoring her startled gasp.
When the music ceased, he felt her force a relaxed posture.
“Your father’s?”
“Yep.” His hands started moving again, but softly on the upper keys this time, so they could carry a conversation while he played. “He got a seventeen-year-old pregnant when he was running for president, then he got cancer and died.”
Her eyes grew wide. She didn’t look at him as if she thought he was lying but instead like she didn’t know what to think.
“I met Lexi for the first time two weeks ago. And Daniel for the first time today.” He pounded harder for three bars then eased off. “Pretty damn convenient; it was right after the rumor leaked that I would be announced the next senator.”
Vega’s hand lifted and rubbed at her temple, then dropped back to her lap with a thud. “So she’s blackmailing you?”
“She’s trying.”
“Trying? And what? You said no, of course?” Her hand lifted again, this time fluttering around her neck. “Supporting a kid is one thing, but you can’t let her blackmail you. Only…if you don’t pay, she’ll go to the media, won’t she?” She looked at him, her eyes widening again. “Even if she doesn’t, there’s no way this won’t eventually come out. You couldn’t stop it if you wanted to.”
She sucked in a harsh breath and reared back, then pinned a narrowed gaze on him. “Or is that why you took me today? Did you want me to expose him in the program to beat her to the punch?”