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Of course it goes to voicemail.
My stomach twists with anxiety. First, that conversation with my mother yesterday, then Wren bailing on me last night, and now she’s calling in sick.
Something’s going on, and I’m almost positive it has to do with Gwendolyn.
I send a text to go with the voicemail and wait for a response.
And wait.
And wait some more.
It’s fucking infuriating.
I suppose now I know how Wren felt every time I ignored her calls and messages in the beginning. I can’t say I like it very much.CHAPTER 21PICKLEWRENAfter a restless night and a headache that’s likely a result of the lack of sleep and the four million grams of sugar I consumed last night, on top of a half a bottle of wine, I called in sick this morning.
I need to tell Lincoln what’s going on, but first I need to give my father fair warning. While I’m not responsible for my parents’ choices, I can at least let them know what they’re about to be up against. There are enough secrets being kept; we don’t need them between us as well.
My stomach twists uncomfortably as I walk up the front steps to my parents’ house. It’s ridiculously early, as is the plan. I wanted to catch my father before he left for work.
“Hey, sweetie, this is a surprise.” He opens the door and ushers me in, pulling me into a hug. When he backs up and takes me by the shoulders, I force a smile, but I’m sure it looks as flat as it feels. His own falls. “What’s wrong? You look exhausted.”
My shoulders curl forward, and I drop my head, unable to hold eye contact as the tears I’ve been fighting a losing battle against fall. “I have a problem.”
“It’s okay, whatever it is, it’ll be okay.” He pulls me in for another hug. My dad doesn’t balk at tears and tell me to buck up, probably because I’m not much of a crier, so he knows it can’t be good if I’m in his foyer, ruining his suit with tears.
When I’m composed enough, he leads me to the living room, where I tell him all about Gwendolyn’s threats to expose our family if I’m unable to keep Lincoln from looking into the penthouse further.
My father is a warm man, genuine and approachable. It’s why he’s such a perfect fit as a senator. People like and respect him because he shows strength of character, and he’s fair and just. But right now, he looks like he could go a round in a boxing ring and win.
“I’m sorry, Dad,” I say, gathering my courage. “I know I’m putting our entire family in a difficult position and that I probably shouldn’t have gotten involved with Lincoln while working for Gwendolyn.” I summon the courage to tell him the rest.
“Wren, honey—” my father interrupts, but I cut him off.
“Let me finish, please, Dad. I can’t lie to Lincoln. I know it’s going to make things complicated for everyone, but I love him, and I won’t let someone blackmail me into keeping my mouth shut, least of all his own damn mother.” I rush on, trying to get the words out before I break down in another fit of tears. “I know this has the potential to hurt your campaign, but I can’t let Gwendolyn push me around like this. I just need you to understand.” I hiccup loudly, my panic gaining momentum as I consider, truly, the ramifications of my actions.
He puts a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Sweetheart, take a breath.”
I inhale loudly and release it slowly, trying to stay calm. My dad regards me with a sad smile. “I’m so damn proud of you right now.”
I blink several times. “But I’m putting you in a horrible, awful position.”
“You’re being blackmailed, Wren. It’s out of your hands. If anything, you’re the one being put in a horrible position.”
“You’re not angry with me?” I exhale some of the anxiety that’s been keeping my stomach in knots.
“Of course I’m not angry with you. I’m immensely proud of you for holding onto your morals, especially when you’ve been surrounded by one of the most morally gray families I’ve ever had the misfortune of knowing.” He reaches for his Rubik’s Cube, something he’s had on his desk for as long as I can remember, and starts twisting it, breaking up the perfect color patterns on each side until they’re a rainbow mosaic.
“There’s no way out of this without someone getting hurt. I’ve tried to come up with an alternative, but Gwendolyn has backed me into a corner.”
“Well, that’s what she’s good at, isn’t it? Gwendolyn sure knows how to play the game. I didn’t realize how twisted she really is. I questioned when Gwendolyn and your mother started spending time together, knowing what I do about that family. But then, I think your mother felt bad for her, considering all the rumors about Armstrong. And of course, they were both so committed to working on charitable projects, I thought it was good for your mom. I should’ve been more careful, and I should’ve discouraged you from working with that family.”
