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I roll so I’m half on him with my chin resting on my hands on his chest. “What kind of fun are we talking?”
“I thought we’d start with ice skating before we take the helicopter out to the Hamptons.” He smirks. “I haven’t been to our place out there yet and I’d like to see it.”
I grin. He’s referring to my place that I told him to make note of in our postnup. “You’ll love our place there.” I inch my way up the bed to get closer to his face. “We can spend tonight stargazing.”
He’s about to say something when his phone lights up, and when I saylights up, I mean it goes fucking crazy with text after text and then a phone call that turns into two phone calls when Bradford doesn’t answer the first.
“Fuck,” he mutters when he checks the texts. Sitting up, he apologizes, “Sorry, I’m going to have to take this call.”
“I’ll go check on Mom while you do that.” I give him a quick brush of my lips as he stabs at the phone to return the call. His hand comes to my arm as I turn to leave the bed, and he pulls me back in for a longer kiss before letting me go.
I take a quick shower and get dressed and am about to go in search of Mom when Bradford comes into my dressing room. I only have to take one look at him to know something has happened that hasn’t pleased him.
“Cecelia has thrown her hat into the ring for the senate seat and seems to have been working Hale for weeks,” he says.
His tense shoulders and grave voice cause worry to knot in my stomach. “And?”
He rakes his fingers through his hair. “And Hale likes her for the job.”
A million thoughts cascade through my mind. “Do you think she’s behind the smear campaign?”
His eyes flash with something lethal, something I’ve never seen in him before. If I was the reason for that look, I’d fear for myself right now. “Yes.”
“What are you going to do?” Because that look in his eyes tells me he’s going to dosomething.
He checks a text that comes in before meeting my gaze again. “I’m going into the office to take care of this. I’m sorry this ruins our plans for the day.”
“No, don’t apologize. I want you to do whatever you need to.”
“I’ll keep you updated.” He checks another text. “Fuck, I have to go.” He moves into me so he can kiss me goodbye. Then, his eyes lock with mine and he says with the kind of request that I know is more a command than a request, “Please don’t go online today.”
Holy God, how does he not know that saying something like that to me actually puts that idea in my head? Like,plantsit there as a tiny little seed that will just grow and grow and grow today, begging me to water it and help it see light.
When I don’t answer him, his eyes bore into me harder. “Kristen.”
I swallow the guilt of what I know might be a lie. “Okay.”
And then he’s gone and I’m left flailing about, trying desperately to do as he asked.
I will not go online.
I will not go online.
I will not go online.
Right.
Mom.
I’ll make her distract me.
Half an hour after Bradford leaves, I’ve managed to get my mother to drive me crazy enough to force most of the thoughts of going online from my head. I simply asked her for decorating advice.
I told her I’ve been thinking about redecorating my Hampton’s home because I knew she’d take the opportunity to sayfinally, it’s about time we fixed that disastrous attempt of your previous decorator.
I’m in the middle of this conversation when Bradford’s housekeeper joins me and Mom in the family room. She advises that Alan is here to see me and against all my good judgment, I tell her I’ll see him.
Leaving Mom, I head into the grand salon where Alan’s waiting. When I reach him, he’s standing with his back to me while he looks out the windows. He’s a tall, imposing figure and I instantly feel unsettled that he’s here.Why is he here? I thought Bradford was meeting him at the office.
