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"How do I work the TV?" Claire asked.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I glanced at the unknown number. "Um...I should take this." I had no intention of taking it, but as I silenced the call, a voicemail popped up.
"I'll show you, Claire." He squeezed my ass as he walked past me, and I tried to stifle my grin. Opening the sliding glass door, I stepped out onto the balcony.
I'd gotten a handful of calls over the last week, but I hadn't gotten any voicemails. Closing the door, I lifted the phone to my hand with trembling fingers.
What if it was Quinn?
Or worse...what if it was the person who'd hurt him?
I pressed play on the voicemail recording, my stomach clenching.
"Ms. Winters, it's Charlotte Stevens from Claire's school."
Oh, fuck. I'd already informed my landlord I wouldn't be returning, and I hadn't heard anything from my job, so I'd figured that door was closed. But so much had happened the last few days I'd completely forgotten what I was going to do with Claire's scholarship.
Ms. Stevens voice continued. Was I imagining it or did her tone sound different? More apologetic than demanding? "I just wanted to thank you for the payment we received yesterday. I know I've been kind of short with you about getting the late payments, so I really do have to thank you for paying for the whole year. Your donation was also so incredibly kind. It was more than I ever could have asked for, and it's going to help us pay for a brand new playground for the kids. We're going to name it in Claire's honor. Thank you again, Ms. Winters."
My hands stiffened around the phone. Did I seriously just hear that correctly? I listened again, just to be sure. Emotion choked in my chest. Wiping at my tears, I opened the door back into the house, still staring at my phone in disbelief.
"Lucas...you paid off—" My words, and the lightness in my chest, slammed to an abrupt halt as I glanced up at the TV.
There was a photograph of me, taken from a video still, on the news.
Lucas was standing by the TV, his hand frozen on the remote. He'd yet to turn on the surround sound.
Claire furrowed her brow. "Mommy, why are you on the TV?"
Oh, fuck. "Claire, go to your room, right now."
"What? Why?"
"Your room, Claire, go!"
"Fine." Claire dropped her plate on the coffee table, the glass clattering as she stormed off down the hall.
Lucas switched on the sound as soon as Claire's bedroom door closed.
The photo of me was replaced with a photo of Lucas, and the reporter's voice spoke in the background.
"Although Lucas Wilson has not officially confirmed the relationship, sources report that Olive Winters accompanied him to an event at mayor Jessie Isaacs party, shortly before Mayor Isaacs announced his bid to run for President-elect in the upcoming election."
My heart dropped as the television switched to a video of me and Claire walking down the street. The reporter continued talking. "Olive Winters reportedly went to college with Lucas and has a ten-year-old daughter named Claire. It's unclear who the father is."
"Fuck," Lucas whispered.
"How did they get a video of us?"
Before Lucas could answer, another photograph of me appeared on the screen. Except this wasn't any photograph. It was my mugshot from six years ago. My hair was three shades lighter, and bruises swelled my left eye shut. I was about twenty pounds lighter.
My knees buckled, and I grabbed the couch for support as the reporter continued.
"Olive Winters was arrested six years ago on charges of domestic assault. The charges were later dropped. Lucas Wilson, CEO of a private security company, is a self-made billionaire and rumored to be a front-runner for the Vice Presidential bid."
Lucas shut off the TV and slowly turned to look at me. "What the hell, Olive?"
"How did they...how did they get that..." My voice trailed off.
