by Ivy Nelson
“Do you have ties to that community?”
Garrett shook his head. “Not really but I have a lot of political connections and the event itself is political. Virtually every politician seeking election or reelection for a major office will be there hoping to get someone’s money, or someone’s endorsement.”
“Holy fuck.”
Garrett frowned. “I wouldn’t advise saying that near the cameras. Relax. I’ll be with you the entire time.”
She shook her head. “I’m not so sure. This feels like a terrible mistake. I’m not cut out for something like this. I live in a three-bedroom apartment with four other people. I know nothing about politics. They’re going to think I’m rude if I don’t know who they are. Why didn’t I ask more questions before I agreed to this?” She could feel panic grasping at her throat and talking helped keep it at bay.
Garrett had other ideas. His hand came to rest at the back of her neck and squeezed hard as his mouth crushed against hers, effectively shutting her up.
When he pulled away, he said, “Calm down. You’re panicking and you don’t need to. This will sound crass, but they’re after my money and my political expertise so they’re not going to care all that much about the woman on my arm. To them, you’re just like another piece of bling I’m wearing. I, on the other hand, care a great deal about you and plan to make sure you have an enjoyable time. I just need you to calm the fuck down and let me.”
She nodded slowly, still reeling from his lip bruising kiss. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to freak out on you.”
He massaged her neck. “It’s fine. Just try not to stress out. We’re on a date and there will just be people with cameras around.”
She blew out a breath. “I just hope Sarah isn’t right about me ending up on the front page of the TMZ website.”
He laughed. “I can’t make any promises, but it’s unlikely.”
“Give me just a minute please,” he said as he pulled out his phone and began typing.
A few minutes later, they pulled up in front of a monstrous jet.
“Here we are, Miss Alvarado,” he said with a wink.
On the plane, Garrett pulled out a tablet and set it in front of her. “I’m connecting you with a woman who trains celebrities on how to handle cameras and the red carpet. It didn’t occur to me before now to get you some expert advice. I apologize.”
Isabelle looked at him, bewildered.
“First lesson is to keep either a very neutral expression or a smile on your face at all times, Miss Alvarado.”
Isabelle jerked her head down to see a stern-looking woman with an air of sophistication looking back at her.
“If you show fear, confusion, or any other negative emotion, the cameras will pick up on it, and the reporters and paparazzi will devour you for lunch. We don’t want that. Pay careful attention because we have less than two hours to get you ready. Honestly, Garrett, you should be ashamed of yourself, dumping this poor girl in the deep end like this.”
Isabelle’s eyes went wide. Was it really going to be that bad?
The woman sighed. “I’m sorry, dear. I’m scaring you. It’s really not that bad, and if you didn’t have it in you, you wouldn’t be working for the likes of Garrett Oliver, so let’s get started, shall we?”
• • •
Garrett gripped Isabelle’s hand as they rode in the limo from the airport to the convention center. The woman he’d hired to coach her through her first red carpet had done a lot to put her at ease, but he could still sense her nervousness.
“You’re going to do fine.”
She gave him a tense nod.
“We’re here, Sir,” his driver said. “Looks like four cars ahead of us.”
Garrett gave his driver a nod and slid his hand from Isabelle’s grasp so he could wrap his arm around her.
It was fifteen minutes before it was their turn to step out and make the lengthy walk. Compared to Hollywood events, the red carpet here was relatively short, but it would still take another ten minutes for them to get inside and away from the cameras.
He held his hand out for Isabelle and helped her from the car. He could feel her shaking as he tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and let his face go neutral. Immediately, the cameras turned their attention to him, and reporters shouted questions. One of a select group of reporters chosen to be on the carpet conducting official interviews stopped them, but he politely told her he wasn’t taking questions tonight.
At the photo wall, photographers called for them to turn this way and that, and they dutifully complied.
“Mr. Oliver, is it true you’re considering mass layoffs within your company? How can the president count on you as an economic advisor when your own house isn’t in order?”
Beside him, he felt Isabelle stiffen. He’d walked the carpet enough to know how to pretend he didn’t hear a question, so he did just that and listened for another reporter he could respond to.
“Who is your date wearing?” someone shouted.
“It’s made by the incomparable Jasmine Darlington,” he said with a smile. “Isn’t she gorgeous?” Without warning, he leaned in close to Isabelle who was facing him and pressed a kiss to her lips.
A gasp escaped her as their lips connected, but Isabelle played along and returned his kiss as cameras flashed. The kiss worked and reporters began shouting questions about who his date was. Instead of answering anymore, he gave a curt nod to the staffer controlling traffic on the carpet and someone escorted them from the photo wall into the lobby where no cameras were allowed.
“You used me to get out of answering that question,” Isabelle accused.
He thought about playing dumb but knew he wouldn’t get away with it. “That wasn’t my intention. But answering that question would have led to a dozen others as would not answering anything at all. It’s better not to get into it with the press out there so I answered something harmless that I knew would take their minds off of it for a minute.”
“Is it true? Are you still considering mass layoffs?” she asked.
Garrett shook his head. “Absolutely not. I’m not even sure where that information would have come from, which is why I didn’t want to answer it.”
She huffed. “Well, I don’t like being used.”
“That’s not what you said this weekend.” He knew it was a mistake as soon as the words were out.
Her face went red. “That was a shitty thing to say, Garrett.”
He winced. “It was. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. Forgive me. It won’t happen again.”
When she didn’t respond, he picked up both hands and squeezed. “Please, Isabelle? Let’s just have an enjoyable night out. I shouldn’t have kissed you on camera like that.”
She dropped her head and nodded. Then, to his surprise, she lifted her face to his and smiled. “I do like kissing you, so I guess it wasn’t all bad.”
He laughed. “Delightful girl. Let’s go find our table.”
It took them nearly half an hour to make their way through security and across the large ballroom to their table near the front. People wanting to bend Garrett’s ear constantly stopped them. It was the reason he came to these things, to stay sharp and connected to the politicians he often worked with, but today, he was in a hurry to get Isabelle to a table so she wouldn’t be uncomfortable. She handled being on Garrett’s arm well, though, and they were soon at their table where he pulled her chair out for her.
“Who are we sitting with?” Isabelle asked as she looked around the still empty table.
Garrett grinned. “I see some of our table guests coming this way now.”
A familiar couple approached, and the woman wrapped her arms around Garrett’s middle.
“Hello Emily,” he said, bending to kiss her cheek. “Have you met Isabelle?”
“We met one weekend in Colorado.”
Emily Eastman turned to her and held out her hand. “It’s good to see you again, Isabelle.”
Garrett l
et the two women chatter while he turned to David and shook his hand. “How are you, Garrett?” he asked.
“I’m doing well. Staying busy as always. I hear you’re back in California at the head of Eastman Enterprises again.”
David grinned. “I am. We came back to Texas for this event and Emily’s graduation down in Houston. Since my diagnosis and treatment, we’ve gotten involved in a lot of cancer treatment charities.”
Garrett smiled and motioned toward the chairs. “Let’s sit.”
Someone in charge of the event came to the podium then. “Ladies and gentlemen, if we could please have you all take your seats before the president’s arrival.”
There was a loud commotion that slowly quieted as conversations ceased and people began moving to their tables.
Ten minutes later, the familiar melody of Hail to the Chief came over the sound system.
“Ladies and gentlemen! The President of the United States of America.” Isabelle’s eyes went wide, and she whirled her head in Garrett’s direction. “Seriously?” she hissed. “You didn’t tell me the goddamned president was going to be here.”
Garrett looked at her apologetically as he clapped. “Sorry, Doll. He lost his brother to cancer when they were both children. He comes every year.”
Isabelle just shook her head but clapped along with everyone else.
Dinner flew by in jovial conversation, and Garrett was glad David and Emily were able to join them at their table. Having familiar faces helped put Isabelle at ease.
Halfway through the meal, a staff member approached and whispered in his ear.
“There’s a phone call for Miss Alvarado, Sir.”
Garrett frowned but stood and helped her from her chair, making excuses to the table. Together, they walked to the lobby where someone was waiting with a phone.
“Hello?” she answered. Garrett could hear hesitation in her voice. Then he watched her face go pale. “Which hospital is he in? No. Stay at the apartment. Keep trying to call Grandpa.”
She handed the phone back to the staffer. “Someone beat up Uncle Henry outside the warehouse as he was leaving. He’s in the hospital.”
“Fuck,” Garrett swore. “I’ll call the pilot.”
“How did the girls know where to call me?”
Garrett dragged a hand down his face as he pulled out his phone. “Looks like Regina tried to call. One of my staff must have gotten him to the hospital and knew where we were. Regina would have known how to get in touch with your nieces.”
He pressed a kiss to Isabelle’s forehead. “I need you to wait right here with security while I talk to some people.”
Isabelle gripped his upper arm. “You can just put me on a commercial flight home if you need to stay. I know this is important to you.”
He frowned. “Stop, Isabelle. I’m taking you home. I just need to smooth a few ruffled feathers while I wait for the pilot to respond. Stay here.”
As he turned to leave, David stepped through the doors. “Everything OK, Garrett?” he asked.
Garrett shook his head. “Isabelle’s uncle has been hurt and I need to get her home. Can you make excuses for us at the table? I was supposed to have a drink with Senator Harris after dinner.”
David waved his hand. “Go. I’ll handle it.”
A secret service agent came through the doors as David was leaving. “Sir, the president is ready for you.”
Garrett drew in a deep breath. “Tell him I’m available.”
The doors to the ballroom opened, and two more secret service agents stepped out along with President Michael Donovan.
“What’s going on, Garrett?” the older man asked, his voice filled with the gravel of years of experience and one too many cigars.
“A family emergency, Sir. And a work one. You have my personal number, though, and we can conference at any time.”
The president nodded. “I’m coming through Pennsylvania day after tomorrow. We can meet then.”
Garrett winced. “Sorry, Sir. I’m working out of one of my Colorado facilities the rest of the week.”
He gave a huff, not used to being told no. “Fine. I think I’m in Colorado at the end of the week anyway. We’ll make it work.”
Turning to Isabell, the president gave her a smile. “It’s good to see Garrett with a woman he seems to actually give a damn about, young lady. Hope to see you again sometime.”
Isabelle seemed frozen in place as the president and his security moved back into the ballroom.
“Did that seriously just happen?” she screeched.
Garrett laughed and nodded. “It sure did. And there you have it, now you have to come to these things with me more often. The president of the United States said so.”
Isabelle shook her head. “If I weren’t so worried about my uncle, I might think that was funny.”
Garrett sobered. “I’m sorry, Doll. I’m not trying to make light of the situation.”
She smiled. “It’s OK. I just need to get back.”
Garrett’s phone buzzed. “Car is ready. Let’s go.”
Together, they walked to the waiting car.
As they walked, the crowd of reporters sprang into action, shouting questions.
“Mr. Oliver, are you leaving because the president fired you?”
“Who is your date?”
“Did you meet her at a club called Solitaire?”
The last question nearly made him turn and growl, but he managed to keep his cool and prayed Isabelle hadn’t heard it.
Chapter Twelve
Isabelle shuddered on the plane as the cool air blew over her.
“Need a blanket?” Garrett asked.
She shook her head. “It won’t help. I think this chill is from the inside.”
Garrett nodded. “I understand. I’ve got the hospital on the phone and your dad is with him. The older girl—I’m sorry I’ve forgotten her name—is home with Sarah.”
Isabelle smiled. It was sweet that he would even want to remember their names.
“Catarina,” she said. “Catarina after my grandmother. I always wanted to name a girl that if I had one, but my sister beat me to it. She’s much older than I am though.”
Garrett slid an arm around her. “He’s going to be fine, Isabelle. It sounds like he’s got some broken bones but no internal bleeding or anything like that.”
She was grateful she had him here. It felt difficult to function at the moment, let alone get information from doctors when she was on an airplane home.
Garrett’s commanding tone and his reputation got him more detailed answers than she could have gotten anyway.
Weariness overtook her and she let her head fell back against the seat.
“Do you think this was the same person who slashed my tires?”
Garrett ran a hand through his hair. “It’s crossed my mind. I’ve already got my people looking at the security footage and they’ve made copies for the police.”
Isabelle nodded.
“I want you and the girls and your dad to stay somewhere else,” he said after a moment of silence.
“Why?”
“Because, if this is one of the former employees such as Darren or Jason, they would have had access to your personnel records and would know where you live. I can set you guys up in a house.”
Isabelle shook her head. “I don’t think my family would go for that.”
Garrett clenched his fist and Isabelle frowned. “I don’t understand this stubborn pride and resistance to help, Isabelle. It’s about keeping you and your family safe, nothing more.”
Her mind drifted back to the conversation she had with her father in the kitchen. Was it really that simple, or was her father right that Garrett would eventually come to want something for all that he’d done for her?
“The apartment complex seems to be installing gates,” she said. “Won’t that be enough?”
Garrett sighed. “I did that, and now I’m not so sure it is.”
She frowned. “Wha
t do you mean, you did that?”
“I mean, I went to the complex and paid to have gates installed.”
She huffed as her face warmed with anger, and she turned her head toward the window. “Damn it, Garrett. Why must you meddle this way? I’ve lived in that complex off and on for most of my life. It’s never been an issue.”
Garrett was quiet for a moment. But when he spoke, his tone held a hint of anger, and a threat. “You may only be my submissive inside the walls of Solitaire, but I’m sure as hell not going to stand by and do nothing when I have the resources to keep you safe. I take care of my subs, Isabelle. Deal with it.”
“Well, maybe I want to be your sub more than just in the club,” she blurted before clasping her hand over her mouth.
“I would love to explore that conversation sometime when you’re not pissed off at me and you don’t have a family member in the hospital,” he said evenly.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It’s an accurate statement, but you’ve always made it clear that this is only for inside the club.”
Garrett picked up her hand and pressed it to his lips. “Shut up, Isabelle, before you dig yourself into a hole you can’t get out of. We’ll talk about it later.”
Isabelle closed her eyes again and tried to sleep for the remainder of the flight. Thankfully, it was a short one, and she was soon standing in the hospital waiting to see her uncle.
“Daddy,” she said when she rushed into the waiting room. “How is he?”
“He’s getting some more x-rays right now, but so far it just seems to be some broken ribs and a broken ankle. His face has some cuts and scrapes, but otherwise he’s OK.”
She nodded and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.”
“It’s OK sweetheart. Your boss got word to me quickly and sent a car to bring me over here.”
Isabelle turned her attention to Garrett and smiled at him. “Thank you,” she mouthed. She had no idea how he did it, but she was grateful.
He just gave her a half smile and stuck his hand out to her father. “Garrett Oliver, pleasure to meet you. Though I wish the circumstances were better.”
