by Lee Taylor
Gia laughed through her tears. “I don’t know how I could, Ben, given that I’m bone-tired.” Seeing his relief, she was ashamed. “I’m sorry, Ben. I should have called you. But . . . I . . . couldn’t . . . ”
Ben shook his head. “Don’t, Gia. It’s okay. I . . . I knew you were fine. Fowler threatened me with castration when he couldn’t find you after the press conference. He . . . he’s been updating me. Keeping me up to date on how you were doing.”
Gia was shocked but relieved. She’d been castigating herself for not calling Ben, but the most she’d been able to do was to send a couple of texts telling him she was okay and that he should take time off. “I’m sorry, Ben. I . . . I couldn’t talk about it. Even to Logan. Until last night, we never mentioned the campaign.” Glancing at his desk, which was piled high with folders, she shook her head. “I really bailed on you, didn’t I? I don’t know what to say except that I’m sorry. I guess I went a little crazy after we got through the press conference.”
“Please, Gia, if anyone deserved to go nuts, it was you. And yes, if Logan hadn’t assured me that you were safe and cared for, I would have turned the town upside down looking for you. But, Gia, are you sure you want to be here? I can handle closing things down. There’s no reason for you to deal with the shit. Kaila and Emma and, yeah, even weird Syl have been great. We’ve paid all the bills and kept the media whores at the gate. I think they’ve finally given up on finding you here. Sure hope you parked in the underground garage in case they’ve got a spy out front.”
“I don’t know what to say except thank you. All of you. I can’t explain it, Ben. It felt like when my dad went down, only so much worse. With Dad, he was still in charge, handling all the media shit. He actually reveled in it. It killed me when he finally went to prison. But at least I could blame him for what had happened. This . . . this was a steeper climb. Aiden was my fault.” When he tried to interrupt her, she put up her hand, stopping him. “Don’t, Ben. Of all people, you know how pitiful he was. But I was convinced I could make him into a candidate, a fucking winner.” She shook her head. “I can’t explain it. I’m just so sorry I dragged all of you through it. I’ll never forgive myself for what happened.”
Ben sighed. “I’m not going to try to convince you of this, Gia, but at some point I hope you will accept that every one of us chose to be on board the campaign. We all knew it was an uphill slog. But if anyone coulda pulled it out, it was you. And none of us, including you, could possibly have known what a pitiful son of a bitch Aiden was.”
Gia nodded in agreement. “Pitiful, yes. An SOB? Of the worst kind. But I never dreamed that he was sick. Morally sick.” She pressed her lips together, determined not to cry. “God, Ben, that poor girl.”
She was glad when Ben put his arms around her and said fiercely, “None of us, including and especially you, Gia, knew how fucked up he was. At some point you have to be willing to accept the things you and we did wrong but then put the blame for Aiden squarely where it belongs. On Aiden.”
****
“Are you sure that can’t wait until tomorrow, Gia? It’s five o’clock, and you’ve been here all day.”
Gia looked up in surprise to see Ben standing in the doorway. He didn’t try to hide his concern. She was surprised how fast the day had flown by. She reassured Ben, “It’s okay. I’m almost done for today. Please go. I’ll be leaving in a few minutes.”
Turning back to her work, Gia was surprised when her phone buzzed. She started, seeing an incoming text from Logan. She hadn’t realized how late it was until she read his provocative message: “Given that the only thing that will make your superlative ass even sexier is when I turn you over my knee and spank it a bright rosy red, I guess I should be pleased that it’s six o’clock and you aren’t here. Don’t make me come and get you, Gia. On second thought, do. It’s obvious that spanking you will be a consistent element of our time together. Once will not be nearly enough to bring you to heel.”
Gia knew she should be furious at his obnoxious threat, and she was. Unfortunately, more challenging, as she threw her things together preparing to leave as quickly as she could, was the torrent of electric sparks shooting across her groin that made it almost impossible to draw a reasonable breath of air into her suddenly constricted lungs.
Chapter 29
Gia didn’t know why she was surprised when the private entrance to his garage slid open when she pressed the remote he’d given her. Or that the retinal scanner he’d programmed for her opened the elevator door. She shook her head, marveling at his security precautions. Remembering his obfuscation this morning when she’d asked why he often carried a weapon, she decided someday she’d insist that he tell her who the hell he actually was. Her pique at the annoyingly secretive man fizzled like grease on a hot griddle when the elevator doors opened and she came face to face with her distinctly less-than-amused host. The furrow on his brow lightened somewhat, and the crease on his cheek twitched when he glanced at his Audemars Piguet watch. “May I see your phone please, Gia?”
She glared at him. “Why?”
“Why? Because we agreed that you would be here no later than six o’clock. In that you don’t wear a watch, may I presume something is wrong with your phone or you wouldn’t be an hour late?” At her disgusted snort and toss of her head, his gaze narrowed further. Grasping her arm, he pulled her up next to him, then reached down and pinched her butt. At her surprised squeal, he nodded sagaciously and tugged her closer to him. “Hmm, I think I haven’t been giving you enough credit, princess. Obviously, you’re as intrigued as I am with my promised assault on your exceptional ass or why would you purposefully continue to provoke me?”
She gasped and tried to jerk free. “You really are an arrogant, presumptuous, overbearing . . . ”
He pressed his finger against her lips, stopping her tirade. “One adjective is sufficient, Gia. We’ve established who and what I am. What we haven’t done, but will soon, is make it crystal clear that I don’t make empty threats. We’ll deal with that later . . . privately. However, one of the reasons I asked you to be on time tonight is that we have company.”
At her obvious surprise, he shrugged. “In fact, we have a whole damn room of men who have been waiting patiently for you to arrive.” At her frown and attempt to pull back, he tightened his grip on her arm and quipped, “C’mon, Gia, admit it. From what you’ve told me, you’ve been taking on legions of men since you were a kid.”
Confirming Logan’s announcement, Gia heard the sound of men’s voices from the patio. The sound of tinkling glasses and laughter confirmed that whoever his guests were, they were enjoying themselves. Horrified at the thought of meeting Logan’s elite friends, she pressed her lips together to keep them from quivering, then shoved at his hand on her arm. “I don’t understand, Logan. Why are you doing this? I had enough trouble getting the courage to go back to my office today. I can’t believe you thought I’d be interested in a cocktail party with . . . with your friends.”
Determined not to let him see her distress, she punched on the elevator call button and tried to shove past him. He caught her arm and pulled her up against him. Holding her tightly, he murmured, “Settle down, princess. And yes, I’m springing this on you because if I told you what I had in mind, not only would you have been an hour late but it’s likely it would take me days to track you down.”
Surprised that she was as shaky as she was, Gia clutched his shirt and appealed to him. “Please, Logan. I really don’t think I’m up to this . . . ”
He grasped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “First, sweetheart, when you see my guests, you’ll admit that you know most of them better than I do.” At her darkening frown, he added, “And, princess, if I didn’t think you were more than up to this, I never would have convened the group. But I have faith in you. All I ask is that you have faith in me. You know I would never purposefully do anything to hurt you.”
At that moment, the patio door opened and a jovial Paul Davis bu
rst into the room. “There you are, Fowler. We wondered where you’d gone. We assumed you were getting another bottle of that Macallan 21, the best goddamn whiskey I’ve ever chugged. Now I see why you snuck out here.” He grinned and bellowed over his shoulder to the guests on the patio, “Hang tough, men. Our host apparently found something even more impressive than his pricy whiskey—none other than our guest of honor, the inimitable Ms. Gia Tremaine. C’mon, Fowler, no fair monopolizing her. And holy Christ, she’s as beautiful as ever. More than worth waiting for.”
Gia was clinging so hard to Logan’s arm, her fingers ached. She leaned into him, praying that this was a shocking nightmare and that she’d wake soon or, better yet, die a hideous death on the spot. She was glad when Logan wrapped his arm around her and held her tightly next to him.
“Yes, Paul, our special guest has arrived, but as I told you, I had to employ a sleight of hand to get her to this affair. Give me a moment to convince her that she is truly up to this.”
“Sure thing, Fowler. But while I’m out here, where do you hide that gold-plated booze of yours?”
Logan laughed. “It’s hiding in plain sight, Paul. There’s a case of it in the cabinet to the right of the refrigerator.”
When the boisterous man barreled back onto the patio, Logan turned Gia toward him and forced her to look up at him. “Remember what I said, Gia. I will never purposefully hurt you, except of course when I beat your ass. More to the point, I will never ask more of you than I know you can give. That said, my powerful, brassy woman, ‘tits up.’ It time for you to greet your biggest and best fan club ever.”
Before she could pull away, Logan led her out to the patio, then, still holding her tightly against him, he turned to the assembled group. “Gentlemen, may I present our somewhat reluctant guest of honor. And as you have likely surmised from her shell-shocked gaze, she is as surprised by our gathering as we anticipated she would be.”
Clinging to Logan’s arm, Gia looked from one to the other of the men who were assembled on Logan’s lofty outdoor parlor. To her shock, Max Sheldon rose from his chair, as did Jerry Riley. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a solemn Elliott Lockhart standing between Paul Davis and Ben Knight. Ben caught her eye and shrugged, not trying to hide his guilty smile. Gia glared at him, then a hard thought struck her. Clinging to Logan’s arm, she whirled on Max and Jerry. The fear in her voice startled her.
“What’s going on? Tell me . . . is it my father? Damn you! Did something happen to him?”
Max stepped forward. “No, Gia, your father is fine.”
Logan led her over to one of the padded armchairs and parked her on it. He pulled up a chair and sank down next to her. He placed one big hand over hers and refused to let her shrug his off. “Look at me, Gia. Max is correct. Your father is fine. Whatever that means. This enclave is not about him—except transiently.”
Gia whirled on him angrily. “Then what . . . what is it about? What’s going on, Logan?” Waving at the group of men circling her, she glared at him. “Why did you invite them here?”
Jerry Riley held up his hand. “Let me try to answer that, Gia. We’re here because of you. We’ve been watching you since you were an upstart little kid. And frankly, we were sick about how you got buried in all of Big Bart’s shit. Hell, honey, it ain’t fun being the one who has to shovel up after the circus, is it? But that’s the burden Big Bart left you to handle.”
Max added, “Especially when what happened wasn’t your fault. It kills me, and the rest of us here, that just like your father let you down, that insipid prick Maxwell couldn’t keep his pea-sized prick in his pants. Goddammit, that privileged little shit hurt you more than your father did, if possible. I feel personally responsible, Gia, for Aiden Maxwell. If I hadn’t pointed you to the dirt Big Bart had on Lyin’ Mike, O’Brian would have beaten Maxwell before he beat himself . . . and you.”
Gia tried to understand what was happening and was grateful when Ben brought her a glass of what she assumed was the inimitable Macallan whiskey everyone was raving about. Tossing it back, she glared at Ben, and shook her head. “Damn, Ben, why in God’s name are you here? You’ve never even met my father.”
Ben hesitated and then, his sincerity as palpable as his youth, said, “Because I love you and you are my hero . . . heroine.” He glanced at Logan and said, “And because he asked me to come.”
Staring at her friend who had stood beside and behind her as none of the other men who were surrounding her had, she acknowledged the importance of what he said. Glancing down, she saw that she was clutching Logan’s hand as she had from the beginning of this insane gathering.
Swallowing the gigantic lump in her throat, she narrowed her eyes and glared at him. “I repeat. What’s going on Logan? Why . . . why are they . . . we . . . all here?”
Logan nodded thoughtfully, then said carefully, “Before I tell you why I convened this impressive group, I confess I was concerned whether you could handle what I’m about to propose. Considering the caliber of the people surrounding you, it’s clear that you are more than up to our proposal. Max and Jerry represent your past. They honor you and love you for it. Paul and Elliott are political weathervanes. They put significant resources behind candidates they think can win and then use their money to make it a self-fulfilling prophecy. Ben is the purest one here. He likely knows your strengths and weaknesses the best and would crawl through fire on his hands and knees to support you. In an odd way, I’m an amalgam of all of them. I didn’t know your father, but I can appreciate his strengths and weaknesses. And I see what he did to you. The good and the bad. Like Elliott and Paul, I have the resources to make a winning candidacy possible. I also have the advantage of being a newcomer. I can look at the political horizon in the way that those of you who are too close to it can’t. In addition, I care about you and, even given that, I count it as a badge of honor that I refused to support Aiden Maxwell for all the right reasons. To put it succinctly, Gia, all of the men in front of you agree that you need time get over the crushing political blow you suffered. Unfortunately, like life, time isn’t always kind. Sometimes the future roars up and forces you to catch up with it.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Logan?”
Ben answered. “Gia, the primary election is a week from tomorrow.”
She glared at him. “So?”
“If no one steps up, Gretchen Engle will be running against Gus Underwood.”
Gia growled. “And what’s news about that, Ben?”
Logan intoned, “We’re proposing a different race, Gia. Max says Underwood should not win this race.”
Max nodded in agreement. “Logan’s right. We have enough evidence to confirm that Gus needs to be beaten. He’s dirty, Gia. But he needs an opponent who can take him on hard. Someone who can play as dirty as he can.”
Gia frowned, acknowledging that her political antennae had perked up, then shook her head. “Sorry, boys. It’s a foregone conclusion. The polls showed that Gus would have beaten Aiden by a forty to fifty percent margin—and that was with me managing the campaign. Can you imagine what he’ll do to chubby little self-righteous Gretchen?”
She stopped, then stared at them as if she finally understood. “Jesus God, you can’t actually be thinking that I should run Gretchen’s campaign?”
Logan grinned and shook his head. “No, to put it nicely, we think your days as a kingmaker or, in this case, a queenmaker are over. And you’re right, the odds against Gretchen are even greater than they were against Aiden. No, we need a different candidate. One who can take on Gus for the scoundrel that he is and pound his ass into the ground.”
“Who, Logan? Do you have another newbie like Dean Pritchard in your back pocket? A knight in shining armor for whom you’re willing to front the money that he needs to win?”
“In answer to your question, yes, I’m willing to underwrite the campaign we’re proposing.”
Paul Davis raised his hand. “As will I.”
Elliott
shrugged. “My money chases Logan’s.”
When both Max and Jerry nodded in agreement, Gia turned in amazement to Logan.
“And who, Mr. Kingmaker, might your new messiah be? You got a bead on the next Jesus Christ kicking the stone from the front of the tomb?”
Logan met her dismissive jibe with a soft smile. “I’m not sure about the Jesus Christ part, but that aside, we’re all in agreement as to who that winning candidate is. The answer, Gia, is . . . you.”
Chapter 30
Gia rocked back in her chair in disbelief. When she managed to grab enough air to keep from fainting, she glanced from Logan, whose half-lidded gaze was serious and confirming, to Ben’s clearly excited mien. Too stunned to respond to either of them, a hard thought spiraled through her gut. Coming to attention, she whirled on Max, then Jerry.
“Did my father have anything to do with this lunacy?” She glared at the two older men. “Tell me. Dammit, tell me that you didn’t go to my father with this cockamamie idea!”
Before either of the solemn men could respond, Logan reached for her hand, forcing her to look at him. “They didn’t, Gia, but I did. I needed to be sure that your father didn’t lay any more landmines that could explode in your face. He insists he didn’t.”
Not knowing how she could possibly respond to him given that her rigid chest made it hard enough to breathe, much less swallow the gigantic baseball in her throat that made speaking almost impossible. Calling on every bit of strength she had, she managed to croak, “You had no right to do that, Logan.”
He lifted a dismissive shoulder. “Au contraire. I’m not about to invest a cool mill plus, or ask my friends to do the same, in a race that could blow up in my candidate’s face. That is especially true of an explosion my candidate had nothing to do with. Obviously, your father will be a central figure in the campaign, at least in your opponents’ minds. That we can handle. But as you will see as we move forward, I don’t like surprises.”
