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“She’s an actuary at Lloyd Surry, never married, no children, only child. Her parents still live in Penshaw. She’s very clever, driven.”
“Please tell me she’s attractive and that she’ll give up that job once you start your next campaign. Working spouses don’t appeal to voters, especially not an occupation so…cerebral.”
No, he didn’t envy Hux the interrogation or the comments, but the Foster-Webbs had never been the sort of family who welcomed outsiders with open arms. Or insiders for that matter. Everyone was expected to earn their keep, sing for their supper. “I love her” would be a preposterous reason to marry someone, not when a political alliance or at least a politically savvy match could be made.
The tips of Hux’s ears had turned pink and Lowell was about to interrupt his twin’s suffering with some comment about how delicious and unusual the salad was when Hux fished his phone from his pocket. Cell phones were not allowed at family meals except during election season so this must be important for his twin to risk their mother’s wrath.
Indeed, Hux pushed back from the table, muttering his excuses and walked away from a stunned speechless table. No one excused themselves from dinner, and Lowell exchanged glances with his silent siblings while Victoria seethed.
A few long moments later, Hux came back into the dining room, his brows creasing with concern.
“I’m sorry to interrupt dinner, but that was Tamsyn.”
His eyes locked with his twin’s as Hux said, “She’s fine, but she needs me. I’ll call you later, Mother. Enjoy, everyone, sorry I can’t stay.”
And then he was gone, leaving Lowell with a headful of questions and anxiety, and a plateful of crustacean and seaweed. He was going to need every drop of wine on offer to get through this evening.
* * *
Huxley
Once Holland was mayor, he was going to lean on her to get the roads in Tamsyn’s part of town fixed because this was ridiculous. Yes, they lived in New England and potholes were just part of life, but he didn’t think they needed to be so big a part of life.
His car bumped over the roads until he found a spot near her building and then he was heading up to her apartment at a jog, tapping a foot and crossing his arms in the elevator. With any luck, she wouldn’t be living here for much longer but these things should still be fixed. It was easier to distract himself with civic matters than to play her small, jagged voice over and over in his head.
“You don’t have to leave, I thought I would get your voicemail. I just—”
Then she’d been cut off by a tight sob as though she was trying to hide how upset she was.
“If you need me, I want to be there for you. We have dinner with my mother every other week, and it won’t be the end of the world if I duck out early this one time.” That was perhaps a lie, but it ought to be true. “Say the word and I’m on my way.”
“Please, Daddy.”
Even if she’d refused at that point but had still called him Daddy? He’d have lit out of that dining room like his ass was on fire. And now he was knocking impatiently on her threshold.
It didn’t take long until the door swung open and there stood his little girl, eyes red and swollen, tear tracks glossy on her cheeks, tissue clutched in her hand as she sniffed.
He was going to kill that little shitstick. Maybe more accurately have Lo hire someone to do very bad things to this waste of oxygen. How fucking dare he?
“Oh, babygirl, come here. Daddy’s here now, everything’s going to be okay.”
He took a step inside her apartment and folded his shaking, sobbing kitten into his arms and kicked the door closed behind him. She’d stopped trying to hold back the flood and wept into his chest, clutching at the back of his shirt.
She’d given only the barest of details on the phone but he had a pretty good idea of what must’ve transpired. Pete, one of the founder’s nephews, had been gunning for her since before she even arrived in Clover City, took any chance he got to give her shit and make her look bad.
He also poked at other employees because Tamsyn would stand up for them and it didn’t take much for upper management to see a woman as “shrill” or a troublemaker when really she was calling out shit that was unfair. Mostly his little girl shrugged it off—or pretended to—but this time, he'd gotten to her somehow. She’d made it out of the office in one piece, but now…
Huxley held her tight and rubbed her back, kissed the top of her head, and rocked her from side to side, his heart breaking.
It was one thing to crumble a brick wall of a woman to get her to relax and open up. That’s what he and Lo did, and made sure by the time she was leaving them that she was built back at least as strong as she’d arrived, maybe even fortified after some resting and pampering. But this jackass had taken a wrecking ball to his love, and with the intent to demolish, destroy. Looked like he’d done a bang up job of it too.
He knew Pete thought the job Tamsyn had been promoted into was rightfully his but instead of working harder and proving he also deserved to be at that level, he’d taken the low road and was trying to get rid of her. Huxley wasn’t going to let that happen, and neither was Tamsyn once he’d gotten through with her. And once Lo had.
Would his twin be able to weasel his way out of digestifs? Probably not since their mother would already be cantankerous after his own abrupt departure. On the other hand, Lo had never been as concerned with currying their mother’s favor as most of the children. Perhaps because it seemed to be harder for him to earn it than the other siblings. Victoria could be capricious that way.
Once Tamsyn’s sobs had turned to sniffles, he peeled her away from his chest and tipped up her chin so he could get a look at her. Lovely because she was so dear to him, but objectively a mess. He thumbed away some tears and she rubbed at her nose with a fist. Oh my, poor little girl.
“Want to tell me about it?”
