I weave through the quickly thickening crowd, greeted by a person here or there, suffocating from the fakeness. Cutting right, I stop at the chocolate fountain and dip a marshmallow into the drip, my skin tingling with awareness. The kind of awareness I’ve only ever felt with one man. The kind of awareness I’d convinced myself was nothing more than a Cinderella memory, a fantasy I’d created in my mind. I can barely breathe. My nipples pucker. My sex clenches. I eat the damn marshmallow and tell myself to focus on it. He’s not here. He can’t get past security and just because he says he’ll be here means nothing. He said he’d be back, too, and well I guess technically, that wasn’t a lie. He came back. Ten years too late.
I’m just licking chocolate off my finger in a very “me” fashion that Gabriel would not likely appreciate when my phone buzzes with a text message. It’s from him. I know it’s from him, and I’m not sure if I want him to tell me that’s he’s not coming or that he’s already here. I reach in my purse, pull out my cell and read a message from Rick: I’m not sure which one of us enjoyed you eating that marshmallow more, you or me?
My gaze jerks up with the suggestive message that confirms Rick isn’t just here. He’s close.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Candace
Reeling from Rick’s text message, my heart racing, I scan the crowd looking for his location, certain he’s right here, close, so very close. Too close. Not close enough. This man has me twisted in confusing knots. My phone beeps with another message, but before I can read it, a sixty-something-year-old woman joins me by the chocolate fountain, demanding my attention. “You know how to enjoy your chocolate. I love you already.” Her hands sparkle with jewels, her dress glistening with sequins. “I’m Nicole Cook,” she continues. “Judge Nicole Cook. A happy donor to Gabriel’s campaign.”
She wants to talk about Gabriel. I want to read that message and find Rick. But I do what survival for me and my father demands I do right now. I focus on Gabriel’s life, promising myself that it won’t be mine soon. “So nice to meet you,” I manage, glancing over the judge’s shoulder and expecting Rick to be there. He’s not, but my skin prickles with awareness. Maybe he’s behind me. Maybe he’s right there about to touch me. The judge says something I don’t catch. I will myself to focus on this new conversation that’s now holding me prisoner, much like Gabriel has now kidnapped my life. Actually, I’m not sure Rick hasn’t as well. The men in my life, past and present, seem to have far more control than I think I realized until this moment.
“That chocolate’s tempting me as well,” she teases. “I might just have to scoop it up with my finger any minute now.”
My cheeks burn red. “Please don’t hold my finger-licking chocolate habits against him.”
“Quite the contrary,” she assures me. “You’re as real as they come. To me, that says he is as well.”
And there it is. The reason he fucks Monica and drapes me over his arm. I’m real and I help to validate the stupid “Honest Gabe” slogan. So does my father, though apparently, Honest Gabe is about to take him down. Until now, I thought that meant destroying his career, but when I consider how that affects his campaign, I don’t see how it would justify such an action.
Nicole begins rambling on about Gabriel and how wonderful he is, but the idea that I’m around because I’m good for his reputation has me thinking about Monica’s comment earlier. She said I was the one who belonged on his arm. Gabriel’s reputation is everything to him. How is he going to deal with my father without damaging himself? There’s only one answer. He’s going to kill him. It’s ridiculous. It’s insane. Of course, he’s not going to kill him. Or rather, have him killed. He’s not going to do that. Suddenly, I’m feeling more than a little claustrophobic.
I’m about to make an excuse to escape when Gabriel joins us, and the instant his hand touches my back, I’m fighting that recoil reaction all over again. How am I going to have sex with this man again? How? I can’t and that means starting the sick routine now. I grab his arm and push to my toes to whisper, “I’m not feeling well. I’m going to find a bathroom.”
He inches backward and studies my face. “That’s not good.”
“I’ll try not to breathe on you.” I smile at Nicole. “Nice to meet you. I’ll see you soon.” With that, I fade into the crowd and while I could find a spot to avoid Rick and Gabriel, I’m about to explode with all of this avoidance. I’m sick of avoidance. I’m ready to fight. I’m not sure what that means just yet, but I’m going to figure it out, starting now. I can’t confront Gabriel until I figure out this thing with my father, but I damn sure can confront Rick. This first battle will be step one of me reclaiming the control I’ve somehow allowed to be swiped right out of my hands and heart. This thought has me fuming. How did I let myself get sucked into Gabriel’s plan to rule the world? The answer comes easily: Rick. Rick wouldn’t let go of me and I was desperate to escape his hold. This is all his fault, which actually isn’t true. I’m responsible for me and my actions, but he still deserves my anger.