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“Without her consent? That’s actually stalking. It’s illegal in Georgia. So’s coercion.”
He rolled his eyes and moved toward the door. “As if I give a shit. And I didn’t coerce anyone. Not you, not your girlfriend.”
“I don’t have a girlfriend, Dad. I have a boyfriend now. But I wasn’t talking about us. I was talking about the time you coerced that plastic surgeon in Alpharetta into contributing to your campaign in exchange for making one of his malpractice complaints disappear. And the time you coerced the CEO of your favorite airline to change his public stance on environmental regulations in exchange for retaining a major airport contract. Or the time—”
He grabbed my upper arms and shook me until my brain rattled. “What the fuck do you think you’re playing at right now? A boyfriend? You’re inventing a boyfriend, now, as… what? Some kind of PR threat? If you think you have any kind of control in this situation—”
The door opened behind us, and suddenly, a familiar pair of arms was shoving my father away.
“Get your fucking hands off him.”
I didn’t realize how badly I was shaking until Vaughn’s wide back was in front of me, one of his arms wrapped behind himself to cage me in behind him. I took just a microsecond to rest my forehead against the back of his neck, inhale that goddamned scent, and just… remember. Remember who I was. Who I wanted to be. Who I had in my corner.
Before my father had finished spluttering, Rowan sashayed into the room and began ferreting out the tiny cameras and microphones hidden behind various boxes and gallon jugs of cleaning supplies. She didn’t say a word, simply slid everything into a bag slung across her body, gave my father a shit-eating grin, and slipped right out again.
My dad barely even registered her because he was so busy sputtering about a “criminal” interrupting “a private conversation.”
I moved out from behind that “criminal” and took his hand, not only because I wanted to hold it—in public, where people could see—but also because I wanted to keep him from shoving me behind him again.
As much as I loved his protectiveness, I wanted my father to know he was going down.
And that I was the one who’d made it happen.
“Dad, this is the boyfriend I invented. Not a PR stunt, I promise you. And in addition to being really good with his hands… and other things… he’s good at having smart friends. Friends who have contacts at CNN. And friends who know some of your friends, like Daniel and Benicio Avila. And friends who happened to have a handful of surveillance cameras and microphones available this morning.”
His eyes widened as I spoke, his face turning florid despite his image-conscious commitment to exercise and healthy eating. “You have no idea what you’re doing.”
“Oh, but I do,” I said calmly. “If I go public with this, you’ll not only lose the election, you’ll face charges for everything from coercion to campaign finance violations. Which is why you think I shouldn’t go public. And lucky for you, I agree.” I gave him a hard smile. “As long as you drop out of the race, start an anonymous trust benefitting Arden and the baby she’s carrying, and leave me the fuck alone.”
Janine rushed into the small room. “Senator, what in the world is taking so—?” She cut off abruptly when she saw Vaughn and me holding hands.
“Family conversation, Janine,” I told her. “Sorry.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and glanced at my father, clearly waiting for him to tell me off.
“Janine,” he said, straightening up and trying to look like he had things under control. “I’m gonna need a minute here.”
I tried to hold back a look of smug satisfaction. And failed. Vaughn let out a soft huff of laughter beside me.
“But… the Sylvesters are waiting to talk to you, Senator,” she said.
“Mm,” I said, shooting her a mock sad face. “I don’t think you want the senator talking to anyone right now.”
Vaughn pinched his lips together and stared at the floor, clearly trying not to laugh again. He’d better not, or I was going to lose it right here.
“Corbett?” she asked my father, looking suspiciously between me and Vaughn. “What is this?”
He let out a breath. “Call my attorney. We’re going to need to sit down and talk about a few things.” Then he moved his gaze to me, trying his best to pierce me with an intimidating glare. “If you think for one minute your little ploy is going to work, think again. It’s illegal to entrap someone like this.”
I was offended. “This isn’t entrapment. That would require law enforcement to be present. This is you thinking you’re untouchable—and finally being proved wrong.” I let out a laugh. “You know it’s not illegal; you just hoped I didn’t. And before you accuse me of recording you without your consent, remember, Georgia has a single-party consent law, and I was in the room. Consenting.”
Vaughn couldn’t help but chime in. “Baby, I’m not sure your father understands consent anyway, so…”
My father lurched forward as if he was going to lay Vaughn out, and god bless him, Vaughn yanked us both back instead of stepping forward and whaling on my dad.
When we stumbled out of the small supply closet, nearly taking Janine with us, my father’s momentum caused him to slip and fall on the water by the mop bucket, knock into the doorframe, and fall into a shelf of cleaning products.
The noise was deafening as the bottles all came down around him. Janine kept her scream to a reasonable groan, members of my father’s security team came running, and Vaughn pulled me even further back, away from the bouncing bottles and men with concealed weapons.