“Let’s go check in with dad before he gets swarmed.” He takes me by the hand and whisks me into the group of people introducing one another. He holds my hand rather tightly. I couldn’t let go even if I wanted to.
“Dad.” Mr. Winters and the President end their conversation about the time we arrive and Henry butts in before anyone else can.
“Son. Oh, my! Never mind you,” he brushes Henry off and turns towards me, “Now this. This woman looks absolutely breathtaking.” The President takes my hand and gives it a light gentlemanly kiss. “How are you this evening, Ms. Scott?”
“Well, I am feeling a bit blushed now,” I say honestly and Mr. Winters smiles almost a full smile. “You gentlemen are looking handsome.” The President looks flawless in his mask while Mr. Winters looks more uncomfortable. Now I know where Henry gets his ability to look amazing no matter what he wears or where he wears it.
“Why, thank you. Enjoy your night. And don’t worry too much about meeting some of my cabinet. They are all just a bunch of spoiled babies. Right, Winters?” He laughs and claps the other man on the back.
“Some of us more than others, sir,” Mr. Winters says as he looks pointedly at the President making us all laugh.
In a matter of thirty minutes, I have met most of the cabinet members present and their significant others. Most seem nice and genuinely interested in meeting me, just like the first two we met before we mixed with the boys. Or, I guess since I am standing next to Henry the whole time, most of them are genuinely interested in him. I’m surprised that there are a few younger cabinet members. Of course, most seem to be the age of Mr. Winters and the President, but there are some that look just a few years older than Ashton.
The one that seemed not at all pleased to meet me was Mr. Hadenfelt, Marisol’s father. He seemed cold and disapproving, to say the least, but Henry kept me close and made it clear that we are a team. I sensed some tension between those two also. I’m not sure why he is still in a position of power if he and his daughter seem to be cut from the same shady character mold. Doesn’t the President appoint the cabinet? If he does, why does he keep this man that no one seems to like in power? I know he has the power to replace him, so why doesn’t he?
Out of the corner of my eye, I keep seeing Lyncoln in conversation with military men. They are going between Lyncoln, the President, and Admiral Taggert, who I learned serves on the cabinet as the Head of Defense. He looks like a bad boy version of Santa Claus with white hair and a bit of a belly. None of the three seem to relax and I’m worried there is something that needs attending to.
I think of how stressed out Lyncoln looked when he read the report that morning in the hospital and again when he came to my room after his social with Attie. What’s going on? What has them so tense? At least the President and Admiral Taggert are pretending to be social and meet people. Lyncoln however, seems to be just working. And if he works in combat, why is he needed tonight of all nights?
As Henry and I finish up and head back over to dance, Lyncoln walks over in-between us, puts his hand on my back, and whispers something in Henry’s ear which Henry doesn’t seem happy to hear as his face goes stern.
“What do we need to do?” Henry asks, looking at Lyncoln, looking to me, and then back at Lyncoln.
“Nothing for now. Just a head’s up,” he shrugs and flexes his jaw determined.
Interrupting us, Marisol strolls over wearing her green dress with her arm through Christopher’s arm. They are matching and coupled up though none of us really know why since Christopher doesn’t even seem to like her that much.
“Oh, hey guys. I like your dress, Reagan,” she says loudly. She apparently wants to appear nice. Never mind the fact that she was probably the one who tampered with my fake dress, or was behind it anyway.
“Hey,” I respond back shortly. Lyncoln gives my back a rub with his thumb and turns to leave but Marisol stops him.
“Before you go,” Marisol says more quietly but with that same fake, sweet voice. Through her green sparkly mask I can see the venom in her eyes. “I was just checking in to see if you both have finally kissed her or only just the one of you. Let me guess, Lyncoln was first, right? Just wanting to make sure it stays fair.” She looks at me and winks. “So you have kissed both of them now, haven’t you?”
I blush a deep red and feel heat and anger pulsing throughout my body. I guess now Lyncoln knows I kissed Henry and Henry knows I kissed Lyncoln. Great. What a disaster. I know I don’t even have to say a word because my face will do all the talking she needs.
I’m going to kill her.
“I think I’ll go dance now!” Marisol says with an evil laugh as she and Christopher leave. Christopher winces and looks remorseful, but Marisol pulls him away without an option otherwise.
“I can’t even deal with that brat right now.” Lyncoln shrugs and shakes his head even though all of us are clearly uncomfortable with this bit of information. I want to go after her, but I’m trying my best to stay cool. October warned me of this.
She wants me to make a scene. She wants me to make a scene. I keep saying it over and over in my head so that I don’t walk over there and deck her.
“I don’t even know how she gets off thinking she knows every--” I stop mid-sentence as I realize something. Only one person even knew that I had kissed either of them, and only from my blushing in admission, not my telling them in confidence.
“You okay?” Henry asks, taking my hand as he sees the color drain from my face.
“That jerk!” I whisper angrily but give his hand a squeeze. “Can you excuse me a minute, gentlemen?” I ask in the sweetest voice I can muster up, much like Marisol’s fake tone earlier.
I turn to leave but Lyncoln grabs my arm spinning me back and pulls me in close to him, so close I can feel his breath on my face. “I know that look in those gorgeous eyes of yours. You’re about to destroy someone. Just keep in mind where we are and who is watching. Marisol and Hadenfelt want nothing more than for you to lose your cool. Don’t let them win.”
“I’m fine.” I stare him down to prove my words and finally turn away.
It takes me a moment to spot him, but I do and move in his direction stopping here and there to smile at someone or say something nice. I need to not be too obvious about this. Waiting for my chance and finally finding him alone getting another drink, I approach the traitorous Benjamin. He is in a navy suit to match his date Renae, who fortunately for me, must be having a potty break at the moment.
“Benji,” I say with a fake voice using the nickname I hate.
“Reagan,” he greets me suspiciously as if knowing that by using that name, I am up to no good. To an outsider, I look like I’m chatting with a friend from my home township, but on the inside, I am absolutely fuming.
“So tell me, old friend, did you use your mother’s sickness to gain my trust so you could run back and tattle to your pal Marisol?” I stop to smile and laugh a little as fake as I possibly can. “I mean, you are the only one who knew I had even kissed one of them and mysteriously Marisol of all people finds out? Wow.”
“Reagan,” he starts as he tries to explain and begins shifting on his feet. He is obviously uncomfortable with this confrontation.
“Oh. Didn’t think you’d get caught?” Again, I fake smile like we are friends while my eyes cut daggers at him. If he tries to deny this, I swear I am going to kick him right here, right now, right in the nuts.
This time I see his eyes change from suspicious to downright cold. “I did what I had to do.”
“And betrayed me to do it? You wonder why I didn’t trust you. It’s because you aren’t worthy of my trust, Benjamin.” Struggling to compose myself, I turn to leave but stop myself and turn back to say one last thing, losing my smile as I do. “I understand more than you know wanting to win. What I don’t understand is how you could turn into a jerk like your father in order to do it.”
And with that, I walk away. I don’t even think about looking back. Eve
n Renae deserves better than Benjamin. Not wanting to go back to Henry or Lyncoln, I chat with Trent and Morgan briefly as I figure out where I’m going to next.
Trent and Morgan head off for the dance floor and I wander aimlessly, avoiding the men in my life who are both busy with military dudes anyway. I realize that both of them were going to make a move on me eventually, but somehow having someone else point out that I have been kissing both of them makes me feel about an inch tall and also completely relieved at the same time. Now everyone knows and it isn’t like some big secret.
I see some chairs off in the corner and a comfy looking couch. There is an older child of maybe around ten years old sitting on one of the couches, playing with some cards while he itches at his mask. What on earth is a child doing here?
“Hi,” I say and plop down on the other end of the couch he sits on.
“Hey,” the kid greets me shyly. “I don’t suppose you want to play ‘Go Fish’ with me, do you? My aunt says I need to sit over here while she talks to people so I don’t get bored. I am her date!” he says excitedly.
“I would love to. My name is Reagan.” I introduce myself, holding out my hand.
“I’m Wyatt,” he says and shakes my hand quickly, then picks up the cards and shuffles them with expertise. He deals out the cards and we start playing.
“Don’t let me win.” He says it so seriously I almost laugh out loud, forgetting all about Benjamin and my boy troubles.
This little duffer in his mask is almost more cuteness than I can handle. His dark hair is already messed up even though he’s trying to keep his mask on and his suit clean. He reminds me of someone, but I just can’t put my finger on it. Probably Ashton, but Ashton was older than me so I wasn’t ever the big sister.
We play for a little while. He asks me where I’m from and about Omaha and I ask him about his school and his favorite subjects.
“Do you play kickball?” I ask while I draw a card.
“Yes, I love it. Do you have any threes?” he asks.
“Just one.” I hand it over. “Kickball was my favorite. We even played a version of it in Omaha with some movable bases made out of cardboard and we called it ‘pinball’. Any time your base, or your pin, fell over, you were out.”
“No way?” he asks excitedly, “Can you teach me sometime if you become Madam President?”
“Sure. I would love to,” I nod and mean it. “Do you have any sevens?” I don’t tell him that if I don’t make it to at least the final four, I will be back in Omaha and he will never see me again.
He holds out two cards. “You would make a good Madam President. You’re pretty, too. And I like your mask.” He rambles on making me want to laugh again.
“Wyatt. Are you talking Ms. Scott’s head off? What have I told you about that?”
A very beautiful woman in a gorgeous gown walks over to us smiling. Her eyes though. I have seen those eyes before.
I stand and reach out my hand and smile. “Hi. I’m Reagan Scott.”
I know exactly who she is from her eyes, but I let her tell me anyway. “I’m Audra Reed. I have heard so much about you,” she says with a kind smile.
I’m taken in with what an amazing figure she has. She has the same blue and brown eyes as Lyncoln, but her hair is light brown instead of dark. He must have gotten that from his dad. Wyatt has the same dark hair too.
“Hopefully all good things,” I say bashfully.
“Yes, dear.” She nods and smiles a real smile and her eyes almost dance. I wonder if Lyncoln’s would ever do the same. Probably not, he is too dark and moody for that. She gestures, “Wyatt, I am about done here. Are you ready to go?”
“Can we finish, please? She’s about to win. It should only take a minute. I want to see if she will or if I still have a chance.”
“Okay. You may finish. As long as it doesn’t take too long.” She smiles nicely and we both sit down, Wyatt and I continuing our game.
I remember Lyncoln telling me about his mom’s miscarriages. Her patience with her nephew and her affectionate way with him speaks volumes about who she is. She is a woman with a soft spot for children and would have probably loved to have had three or four herself. I can already tell she is a great mother. And I can’t imagine the amount of pain and hurt this woman before me has endured. She seems so put together. But then again, sometimes the most put together people have been cut the deepest by life.
As we finish up playing, she asks me about the other girls and how it’s going. I tell her how I am missing Vanessa and Marcia but looking forward to learning more and improving my aim. I tell her about the story of Ashton and I shooting turkeys and how my aim isn’t very good. She laughs quite a bit at that.
“Mom,” Lyncoln interrupts before I even know he’s there. I can hear the affection oozing out of his velvety voice. “I see you found Reagan.”
“I did. Wyatt found her first though.” She shakes her head amused.
“Of course he did.” Lyncoln smiles a rare real smile.
“Dang!” Wyatt announces. “She beat me. No one ever beats me. Remember the last time we played and you got mad and chased me around because you were trying your hardest to win and still couldn’t beat me? Well, she just did! I actually lost.”
Lyncoln laughs and I realize again how rarely it is that I hear his laughter. “Yeah, and then it turned into a water fight.”
“And then we got in trouble,” Wyatt adds, looking at his aunt mischievously.
“Alright troublemaker, it’s time for us to go,” she says standing.
“Yes, Aunt Audrey,” he replies begrudgingly as we all stand.
I smile at him. “It was nice to meet you, Wyatt. I look forward to playing you again someday.”
He turns to me, reaching out to shake my hand again, but instead surprises me by giving me a big hug, throwing his arms around my waist and whispering, “I like you. I hope you win.”
“Thank you,” I say, trying to be serious and not laugh at this little man.
Lyncoln gives his mom a quick but affectionate hug goodbye and does a secret handshake of sorts with Wyatt, and they leave the ballroom.
“Dance with me?” Lyncoln asks softly after we watch them go.
“Sure.” When he looks at me like he’s looking at me right now, it makes it pretty hard to deny him.
He leads me to the edge of the dance floor and the song changes to a slower one. He brings me in close and sighs as he rests his head down on my head for a moment. I feel his chin on the top of my head because he is just that much taller than I am. We are close enough I can tell from how tight all his muscles seem that he is exhausted and worried about something. Tense.
“Are you okay?” I ask quietly.
“I am now, though I promised myself not to dance with you.” He rubs his thumb along my back. “This dress though,” he adds in almost a whisper.
I’m not used to this soft-spoken Lyncoln. Where is the demanding and bossy man? There seem to be two different Lyncolns and I’m caught in a whirlwind between the two.
“Thank you,” I say shyly.
“Interesting color choice though. Kind of dark and mysterious for you. Did you pick it?” He moves to look at my dress again and then back to my eyes, his eyes peering into the depths of my soul.
“I did. Yeah. I…uh…okay, so if I tell you the whole story, will you promise not to make fun of me?” I can feel myself blush. I don’t know why I am about to tell him this, but I feel like distracting him from whatever has him so stressed out.
“No promises, but I will try,” he says with a half-smile.
“Frank wanted me to wear emerald, but it reminded me of Henry’s eyes, and I just couldn’t. Then he said navy and it reminded me of yours and the same thing. I didn’t want to subconsciously leave either of you out or make it seem like I had decided anything yet. Especially with all the matching business for tonight, which was obviously making me crazy. So, he made a dress using both colors, which just so happen to be my new favor
ite colors. I know no one would have known but me, and now you since I can’t keep my mouth shut, but it still bothered me for some reason,” I babble out quickly. “Silly, I know.”
He almost stops moving and just looks at me a moment before he pulls me close so that his cheek is on mine and whispers in my ear, “You look good in both colors.”
My heart rate goes through the roof and I feel heat radiating across my skin. I thought he would laugh or make fun of me, not whatever this response is.
“And oh, by the way, whatever you did to Benjamin got to him. He’s getting plastered off champagne.” He pulls away slightly and changes the topic but is still burning me with his hot stare.
“He is?” I ask, feeling only a pang of guilt for being so hard on him. He deserved everything he got and more. But then I think of his mom.
“I take it he is working with Marisol?”
“You are perceptive even while you’ve been working the whole night.” I nod and look down. “And I didn’t even disclose any information to him either, for the record. He asked and my dumb blush gave it away.”
“I like your dumb blush.” He smiles his half-smile.
“Because you can torment me with it?” I joke.
“Well yeah,” he grins.
I laugh. “I love your mom and Wyatt. They’re awesome.” I change the topic before he has me blushing again, or talking about the information Marisol made public.
“I do too,” he agrees.
The song ends and Langly is waiting to talk to Lyncoln, shifting from one foot to the other nervously.
“You don’t get to have any fun tonight do you?” I ask.
“I just did.” He smirks and trails his hand slowly across my back one last time as he turns to go talk to him.
I find Attie, Knox, Trent, and Morgan and talk to them for a solid twenty minutes while Henry, Lyncoln, and Christopher talk with the military dudes in the room. The President and Admiral Taggert have already left for the night, along with the other cabinet members. It seems to be only the Culling candidates left, and I find myself surprised that the President and cabinet members stayed for only about an hour. That seems hardly worth all the hoopla. Dougall made it sound like it was a much bigger deal.
The Culling: Book 1 (The Culling Series) Page 34