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She scoffed. “Life is a competition. The race Brant is running in is the biggest competition of his life, and he and I deserve our moment in the spotlight next weekend, so don’t . . .”
“Don’t what?”
She pressed her lips together until they became a thin line. “Just remember, it isn’t about you and Brock,” she pleaded, sounding a bit more like the woman I’d thought she was.
“We are well aware of that. Good night.” I wasn’t going to listen to another word she had to say. The gall of her. I spun on my heels, intent on getting back to the warmth of the bookstore.
“I only want what’s best for Brant,” she called after me.
“That makes two of us.” Though I was sure, after our exchange, she wasn’t the best for Brant.Chapter NineBrock walked out of his room with his luggage at the precise time I was walking past his door with mine. If only people could see the way we lived—his and her rooms. At least we were eating dinner together now and making small talk about our days. Well, Brock ate, and I nibbled on what I could.
“Good, you’re ready. My parents will be here in ten minutes to pick us up.”
We were driving together to Carrington Cove’s executive airport, then flying to DC on the Hollands’ private corporate jet. I couldn’t believe this was my life.
“I’ll get your suitcase and garment bag.” Brock relieved me of both items.
“Thank you.” I let out a heavy sigh.
“Something wrong?”
“After what Jill said last week, I wonder if I should go.” Brock was none too happy about that little conversation when I had told him about it on our drive home from the book signing.
“She was grandstanding. It’s typical Washington behavior. Don’t let it get to you.”
“It does get to me. I already feel like I don’t belong in your family’s world. And honestly, I’m in the middle of ramping up for our Christmas drive, and taking time away from work right now is more than inconvenient.” Even though Christmas was three months away, it took massive coordination and preparation between our partners, churches, and the local agencies we worked with every year to make sure every foster child in the three neighboring counties received a Christmas gift. And not just any gift—something they wished for.
Brock let our luggage drop with a loud exhale. “Dani, I’m not thrilled about this trip either. But think of how it will look if you don’t go.”
I grimaced.
“I know you hate keeping up appearances. Unfortunately, that’s what you’ve signed up for being a part of this family.”
I didn’t exactly sign up, but I didn’t mention that.
“Can’t we just say I’m sick? It’s true. I’ll hibernate all weekend with my phone and laptop, so no one will see me.”
“How will it look if I leave my sick wife at home?”
I bit my lip. “Stay with me, then.” I used the most alluring voice I could muster up.
He cleared his throat. “Uh . . .” He blinked several times, as if he had lost his train of thought. “We have to go.” He grabbed our luggage and rushed down the stairs.
Right. Heaven forbid we stay cozied up all by ourselves for a few days. What was he going to do this weekend when we had to share a hotel room?
I reluctantly followed him down the stairs, careful not to fall in my heels and black fitted pantsuit. This family dressed up for everything, even flying out on a Thursday evening.
His parents were there in no time, picking us up in a large black Suburban with tinted windows. The vehicle was straight out of a Jack Ryan movie. While John and Brock placed our luggage in the back, Sheridan hopped out of the car and greeted me warmly with a hug. “It will be so nice to have a traveling companion tonight while my boys talk business.”
Yes, it was always a lot of business talk when they were together. Brock and Brant both held advisory positions within Holland Industries. It provided them both with obscene paychecks outside of their professions, allowing for luxuries such as the beautiful home Brock owned in the exclusive Bluffs neighborhood. It also allowed Brant to do mostly pro bono work in his law practice, which his constituents and campaign manager loved. Don’t get me wrong, Brant had his critics who were more than happy to point out his wealth and ties to his father, but so far it wasn’t resonating, if the polls were to be believed. The truth, as sad as it was, was that you had to have money to be a politician. It wasn’t often the little guy won.
“I’m looking forward to it.” That wasn’t a lie. I loved the time I spent with Sheridan. She had embraced me in the way every woman dreamed her future mother-in-law would.
