Breathe You In (Sweet Torment 1)

“Honey, I love you, and I know this rehab center is your baby. You moved to New York for this opportunity. This isn’t like Indiana. If you want to head up a major project, you’re going to have to talk to powerful people, plead your case, and get the funding you need. If you can’t, you’re going to struggle in this profession. You have a golden ticket to sit down with the governor of New York and make your case.”

Paige’s words were soothing and yes, I knew she loved me. And as usual, she was right. The problem was, this probably wasn’t the right profession for me.

Warren Cunningham III had turned me off to the elite and entitled population two years ago. After a few years of dating, and helping him graduate summa cum laude from Notre Dame, I’d found out that he had only been dating me as part of an agreement with his family. If he stayed on the “right path” and “maintained a respectable image,” he would get his inheritance. I, apparently, was the brainy, quiet girl who made him study, wrote his term papers, and helped him look like a gentleman while he secretly cheated and lied, and then left me with nothing more than a damaged sense of self-worth and a broken heart.

“Don’t,” Hazel snapped.

“What?” I looked at her petite finger directed at me.

“I know that look. You’re thinking about that douche bag. Don’t.”

It was hard not to. Everything about tonight had reminded me of what it had been like being around his family and in that world. The Cunninghams had had socialite status, political standing, and oil money, and they hadn’t wanted their precious son staining the family name with partying and wild nights. All the while, I was merely his cover, and everyone had known but me. Eight hundred days later, it still stung.

“What he did was disgusting and you’re better than that,” Hazel said. “Look at all you’ve accomplished.”

“I haven’t accomplished anything, though. I’ve constructed the idea, and planned and budgeted for this center, but that doesn’t mean anything if it doesn’t get built.”

When I wasn’t trying to scout for support and funding for this new center, I was spending most of my time sending out e-mails and making phone calls, trying to get volunteers to help with some of the programs we offered at our existing facilities. Important, yes. But enough to set me apart from the other employees? No. And definitely not enough to get a blink of an eye from my parents.

If this Arbor Hill center got up and running, maybe then my parents would see me. See how much I loved them, and how much I loved and still missed Lauren. How I never meant to hurt her…

I couldn’t fix the past. Couldn’t change that night. God knows how much I wish I could go back, make different choices, and have her still be alive. But I couldn’t, and I had no idea when—or if—my parents would ever forgive me for Lauren’s death.

All I could do now was try to make the present better. Make this center happen. Then maybe Lauren’s overdose would spark awareness, and this rehab and prevention facility could give people a chance to get clean and heal before it was too late. If only one family was spared the pain my family had gone through, then it would be worth it.

“You’re on the brink of a very important meeting,” Paige said.

“Dinner,” I amended, but she didn’t bother with the correction.

Paige was a wonderful woman, but she had her own issues, and throwing herself into a bloodthirsty political world where she got to exercise her cutthroat needs was a good thing for her. It was how she thrived. However, emotional balance wasn’t her strong point.

“Let me explain how this works.” Paige held out her hands, palms up. “Here is the governor,” she said, lifting one hand slightly. “Right now, he’s drafting and finalizing the budget, then he’s going to send it to the legislature.” She lifted her other palm. “Once they get his proposed budget, they review, make changes to, and sign off on it. Then it becomes an appropriation bill.” Her green eyes focused on me. “Amy, if you got your project put on the docket with the governor’s support for state funding, you could get the New Beginnings Arbor Hill center its own bill, which would mean government funding for a lot longer than a single year.”

“Whoa,” Hazel said, taking the one word I wanted to use.

If Roman were to designate specific funding for New Beginnings with my rehab center as the head project, that would be a big step forward. But to actually secure the funds and get an appropriation bill? That would be a slam dunk, and would most likely mean long-term job security for me.

“You have a dinner date with the governor of New York,” Paige reminded me. “How are you going to use it?”

Looking to the ceiling, I let out a loud breath.

Damn it. I wanted this to work. Was I comfortable in my current career? Not entirely. But I would be. In time. I wanted this rehab center built. And I wanted my job. But I needed the funding to make that happen. Still, one fact remained that I couldn’t ignore.

“I know what it feels like to be used,” I whispered, looking at Paige. “I can’t do that to him.”

Especially when tonight, there had definitely been something more behind those dark eyes. Politician or not, Roman Reese was different. He made me feel like all the greed and deceit that went with the rich and powerful didn’t exist. Not with him. Going to dinner with ulterior motives was not something I wanted to do, or the kind of person I wanted to be. He had asked me for something true, and I had told him.

I just hoped that truth lasted until next week.

It had been several days since I’d kissed the governor, and I’d spent most of them thinking about him. Angelo’s was a romantic, candlelit restaurant with red table linens. I tugged on the hem of my short black dress, clutched my small wallet, and walked toward the hostess.

“Is there a Mr. Reese already here?” I asked.

The woman smiled. “Right this way.”

I followed her to the very back of the restaurant where, in the shadows of a dimly lit corner, sat Roman Reese. His eyes fixed on my face, and I felt like a mouse circling a watering hole while a hawk watched from above. He followed my every move.

Forcing myself not to fidget, or to cover the subtly low neckline of my dress, I sat down. The dress was another of Paige’s, and a bit tighter than I preferred, but nicer than anything I owned. Roman, however, looked calm in a perfectly fitted steel-gray suit and black tie.