Page 72 of Scandal


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If I had to be honest with myself, I’d say I loathed change of any kind. I always shopped at the same stores, purchased the same brand of jeans and shoes, and usually ate the very same thing at my favorite restaurants. I played it safe, which was something my father had taught me would help in getting ahead in my career. Maybe that’s why I’d kept blinders on, not seeing what was happening right in front of me.

I’d been used by people I’d trusted. While I wasn’t certain of all the reasons why, the signs had been there all along and because I would have needed to change jobs, my lifestyle, my friends, and possibly the city I’d chosen to make home, I’d ignored every one of them. I’d pretended that what I needed was all right within the confines of a perfectly crafted box.

The right job.

The right house.

The perfect boring man.

I’d succeeded alright, putting blinders on for years, acting as if there was a single thing that mattered. Making money. And in truth, that didn’t include for me. Of course, I’d put away a tidy sum, enough that if I lost my job I could take some time to find the right one, but certainly not as much as I should have made given the long hours I’d worked, the loyalty I’d shown.

I’d been a lovely workhorse, always the team player just like Christine had groomed me to be. That angered me as much as the fact that a man I barely knew had whisked me from my home to his. In another country.

But in truth, it also excited me. That should be some kind of red flag in my mind but instead, it kept me tingling all over.

It was still dark by the time the jet had landed and I half expected we’d have an issue at customs, but we’d breezed through without anyone trying to stop us.

Now I was sitting in the back of another SUV driven by someone I didn’t know, Michael in the front and the man I’d placed my trust in sitting beside me.

Watching me.

Protecting me.

The entire last few hours seemed like nothing more than a horrible dream. We hadn’t talked on his fancy jet. He’d simply given me a stiff drink, placed a blanket over my quivering body, a pillow under my head and told me to get some sleep. I had no shoes, no clothing of any kind to change into, only my purse that I’d shoved the files into in my flight to leave my office. But I was thankful I’d managed to keep my wits about me by taking what I had. Right or wrong, I couldn’t care any longer.

The truth had to be discovered.

I’d stared out the SUV’s window into the darkness, confused and riddled with anxiety. But the craziest aspect about what had happened was that I did trust him. Maybe I just needed someone to lean on since my entire world had been turned upside down.

I leaned forward, staring out the window as we were taken by a beautiful river, a sidewalk drifting with the sweeping curves, lights in various colors providing a festive atmosphere. “I’ve never been to Canada before,” I said in passing, not expecting him to answer. He seemed absorbed in learning as much as he could.

“When it’s winter and the river freezes over, ice skating is not only allowed but encouraged. At Christmas, it’s so beautiful, especially if there’s snow on the ground. My mother used to bring us every year, including on Christmas Eve. Then we’d have hot chocolate when we returned home before heading to bed before Pere Noel arrived.”

“Very French.”

“My mother was from the old ways of France. But my father was almost too Americanized for her. To this day, she loves telling stories about my grandparents, who refuse to speak English. She still adores Christmas, wishing she had passels of grandchildren to dote on. I keep telling her maybe one day.”

I glanced at him, the twinkling lights of the city allowing me to see a moment of captured joy as he thought about his past as well as about his longing for the future. Maybe I was reading too much into a single look, but I gathered a sense he was longing for a large family of his own. “When I lived in Hawaii, it never seemed like Christmas. No snow. Santa dressed in tropicalshirts. My parents tried, but when it’s ninety outside, it’s tough to get into the spirit.”

He laughed, the sound tickling all my senses. “Perhaps you’ll enjoy our winter festivities.”

“Perhaps I would. Your mother sounds wonderful.”

“Unless you cross her. Then she’s all spice and mouth. How fascinating that sounds like someone else I know.”

“Very funny, bad boy.” When he pulled me against his heated chest, it took everything I had not to melt in his arms. “Where are we going?”

“I own an estate on several acres of land.”

“Of course you do. You’re rich. Why not? I can’t imagine what else you own.”

“Let’s see,” he said, pressing his wet lips against my forehead. “A chalet in Southern France. A beach house in Malibu. A boat and a fleet of cars.” He had amusement in his tone as he bragged about his good fortune.

“Lucky you. Money can buy almost anything.”

“Except happiness and a family.” The sound of his voice almost seemed melancholy.

“So, have you ever been in love?”

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