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Her incredulous laugh turns into a surprised gasp when I kiss her again. I wish this moment were framed in something other than conflict, but I’ll take it, because whatever happens next, at least we’re facing it together.
I reluctantly pull back. “I’d really like this to follow up on that kiss with more of the same, but I think we have to deal with some crap. We need to find a way to stop Gwendolyn.”
“My father’s taking care of that,” Wren says darkly.
“How?”
“You can’t blackmail someone if you don’t have anything to hold over them, can you?”
“And that means what, exactly?”
“He’s planning to make a statement before Gwendolyn can.”
I run my hand through my hair. “He’s going to go public about your mother’s affair?”
She nods. “If your mother exposes my family, it will be a PR nightmare. At least this way, he’ll have control over how it comes out. I don’t think it’ll be fantastic, no matter how it shakes down, because let’s face it, having a daughter who’s the product of an affair when your whole campaign is based on ‘Family First’ is less than ideal, but it’s better than the alternative.”
I can see exactly how my mother would spin it to crumble Wren’s father’s platform, much like the way they tried to make it look like Armstrong had been set up at his wedding, and that Imogen had made false accusations regarding her pregnancy. “How is he going frame it?”
“I don’t know. But it’s going to get messy. We may want to avoid being seen in public until it blows over, the media will probably have a field day with it.” Of course she’s already going into PR-triage mode.
“Screw that. I mean, I get it if you want stay out the public eye, but I’m the very last person who cares how this will reflect on me or my asshole family. And frankly, I’m not above airing all of my family’s dirty laundry as counter-blackmail, so let’s not worry about the optics.”
“I think we need a strategy going forward. A plan on how we’re going to handle this, should it blow up.”
“My plan is to rip my mother a new asshole for threatening to blackmail you.” I’ve never had the warm fuzzies for my mother, but this seems like a new level of low for her. Or maybe I haven’t been around her enough to experience how low she really can go.
“While I appreciate your desire to stand up for me, you can’t do that. We need to buy time until my dad makes a statement.”
“So, just let her get away with this? She has to be hiding something, and it has to be bigger than your mother’s affair, otherwise she wouldn’t be blackmailing you in the first place.”
“And it has to be connected somehow to the penthouse,” Wren adds.
“So if we find that link, maybe we can stalemate Gwendolyn, and your dad doesn’t have to make a statement,” I finish.
“It doesn’t matter what we find. He’ll make a statement anyway, but you deserve to know what secrets she’s keeping from you.”
I trace the edge of her jaw. “Can we make a deal?”
“What kind of deal?”
“Until last night, you’ve always been straight with me. I grew up in a house full of lies and deception. My parents’ relationship seems to have been a complete farce, and I never want to be like that. Can we promise each other that we’ll keep being honest, even if it’s difficult?”
Wren pulls her knees up and shifts so she’s facing me. “Of course. I just needed to process everything, and I’m used to doing that on my own.”
“Next time, we figure it out together.”CHAPTER 23ADD IT UPWRENWe spend the rest of the evening going through the files Lincoln found in the Manhattan penthouse, cross-checking numbers and looking for any oddities or links that might give us a lead. I have no idea how Dani does this all day, every day. My eyes feel like they’re going to be crossed forever.
By the time Lincoln and I fall into bed, it’s the wee hours of the morning. Even though we should be too tired for anything but sleep, he still manages to make love to me, whispering those words against my lips. And I know that no matter what happens, I made the right choice.
At five thirty in the morning, my mind turns on. I sneak out of bed, not that I need to do much sneaking, Lincoln can sleep like the dead. I make myself a coffee and leaf through my notes from last night while the sun rises.
I keep flipping back through the statements from August more than a decade ago with those large withdrawals in similar amounts. They continue for four years, and double for the two years following it before they disappear. They could be tuition payments for a four-year undergrad and a two-year MBA. I make a note to check it out when I’m done going through the rest of these statements. Based on the timing, it seems like it could be Lincoln’s tuition.
