by Cara Addison
Passion, Power, and Privilege
When her tumultuous marriage ends suddenly, Katharine "Kate" Callahan is forced to decide if she should return to her job as a corporate lawyer, or proceed with the campaign to become the Mayor of the City of Lowden.
Difficult decisions become a lot easier when Kate meets Brad Taylor, a handsome and successful business owner. Brad’s attraction to Kate is instant, and life finally starts falling into place as Kate realizes that the right man can bring out a passion that she had forgotten existed.
Can Kate and Brad overcome their stormy and complicated pasts to find each other, love each other, and use their power and privilege to change the city they call home?
Genre: Contemporary
Length: 65,530 words
PASSION, POWER, AND PRIVILEGE
Cara Addison
EROTIC ROMANCE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Erotic Romance
PASSION, POWER, AND PRIVILEGE
Copyright © 2014 by Cara Addison
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62741-148-6
First E-book Publication: February 2014
Cover design by Harris Channing
All art and logo copyright © 2014 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
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Letter to Readers
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DEDICATION
This is for the incredible friends who inspired the greatest chapter of my life.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
About the Author
PASSION, POWER, AND PRIVILEGE
CARA ADDISON
Copyright © 2014
Chapter 1
The fundraiser to support Kate Callahan’s mayoral candidacy for the City of Lowden was scheduled for September 20 at the home of her friend, Nigel Wakins.
“Will you be joining me at the fundraiser tonight?” Kate asked her husband, Dwayne when he arrived home from work.
“That’s tonight?” he asked as he opened the refrigerator and reached for a beer.
“Yes,” she responded tersely, “It is tonight. Seven o’clock.”
“Why would I want to hang out with a bunch of your stuffy friends on a Friday night?” he sneered before guzzling the bottle of beer.
“Because your boss will be there, Dwayne. And, because it would be nice to show the community that you support my candidacy,” she added with a heavy sigh.
He set the bottle down heavily on the counter before responding. “Fine. I’ll go, but I’m not staying all evening.”
“That’s fine,” she conceded. “Make an appearance. You can leave whenever you want.”
With autumn in the air, it was a crisp evening outside, but the crowd of hand-selected guests was warm and jovial inside the Victorian home located in the core of the city. The election was scheduled for November 5, and the race was heating up. The conservative incumbent, Jim Freeman, had served as the city’s mayor for more than a decade, during which time residential taxes rose sharply as the industrial and commercial tax base shrunk.
Nigel was the second-generation owner of a very successful construction company, having built most of Lowden during the company’s eighty years of existence.
Dwayne sat sulking quietly in the corner, closely monitored by one of the campaign volunteers. They had been given strict instructions to ensure that his alcohol intake was limited to two drinks. Kate made a point of mingling around the room, making sure to personally greet and chat with each guest. As she approached a group of local business owners, she noticed a new, stunningly handsome face in the crowd. Nigel was instantly beside her, ready to facilitate introductions.
Kate shook hands with the familiar faces in the group, but paused as Nigel interjected, “I’d like to introduce you to Bradley Taylor. Brad is relatively new to town.”
“How lovely to meet you, Mr. Taylor,” she said, leaning in to shake his hand. “Welcome to Lowden.”
“Delighted to meet you,” he responded, gently holding her hand, “but please call me Brad.” He paused before reluctantly releasing her grasp and hesitantly adding, “Have we met before?”
She was instantly taken by his baritone voice. It was divine, with just a hint of a Southern drawl creeping into his well-formed cadence. She suddenly realized why his name sounded so familiar to her. Bradley Taylor was the founder and CEO of TayTech, and was the name she had seen on countless documents as the lead council responsible for a recent divestiture at the software company where she worked. “I’ve just recently taken a sabbatical from the legal department at LOWD n’ SOFT,” she responded with a breezy smile. “In five thousand pages of documentation on your recent purchase of the gaming division, I’m confident I read you
r name a time or two.” Seeing this attractive man in front of her, she wished that she had insisted on more in-person meetings. He was strikingly handsome, even though she estimated that he might be ten years her senior. There was something about his quiet confidence and success that she found very attractive.
Kate turned suddenly to look toward the sound of breaking glass. She was horrified to see that Dwayne had stumbled into a table, knocking an assortment of plates and glasses to the floor. She rushed over to assist with the clean up. She noticed immediately that Dwayne reeked of alcohol and she knew he had found a way to drink to excess. Nigel and his wife Elizabeth quickly began to sweep up the shards of glass.
“Didn’t see that there,” Dwayne mumbled as he clumsily bent down to help.
Kate grabbed Dwayne’s wrist and pulled his arm away, but not before he sliced his hand against the edge of a shattered wine glass. Blood immediately began to pour from the jagged wound.
“You’re bleeding.” Nigel said as he lifted Dwayne to his feet.
“I am?”
“You’re pathetic,” Kate hissed into Dwayne’s ear as she stood next to him. The napkin she held against his wound was quickly saturated in blood. She looked around for something to stop the bleeding.
“Here, use this.” Kate accepted the towel offered by Brad Taylor and smiled in appreciation as she wrapped the cloth tightly around Dwayne’s hand.
“Thank you, Brad.”
“Let’s get you to the kitchen and take a look at that wound,” Elizabeth said as she led Dwayne out of sight of the other guests. The buzz of conversation slowly continued as guests resumed their discussions.
“I’m so sorry,” Kate said quietly to Nigel. “His behavior is deplorable and a disgrace.”
“Not to worry. It’s fine,” Nigel assured her. “Now, take a deep breath, Kate.”
“Let’s see that beautiful smile,” Brad added.
Kate couldn’t help the shy grin that slowly crossed her face. She took a deep breath. “Thanks. To both of you.” She looked around the room before adding, “Let’s get back to the business at hand, shall we?”
At ten o’clock, Nigel interrupted the chatter, calling his guests together to share some prepared thoughts. Nigel began with a brief history of Kate’s work and expertise, before outlining a few key points of her political platform and plans for future growth in Lowden. Wrapping up his speech, Nigel invited guests to be a part of the future of this great city by opening their checkbooks and financially supporting the work that was needed to win.
As Nigel spoke, Kate’s mind drifted over the past two decades of her life. She had practiced law in Lowden for the past seventeen years, before throwing her hat into the political ring. Admittedly, she had followed local and regional politics, but until now had felt little need to personally step in and effect change in this great city. She became a lawyer in the shadow of one of the great lawyers of the day. Her father. Wallace Callahan was the city’s most notorious lawyer, and arguably, one of the city’s most influential residents. He had been a part of the District Attorney’s office for his entire career, fighting for justice for victims of countless crimes. He loved his job as District Attorney until his untimely retirement just six months earlier, a retirement he sought to fight a rare form of cancer.
Katherine Callahan, better known as Kate, had chosen a different legal path from her father, finding that corporate law was more suited to challenge her personality, sharp wit, and bargaining skills.
Standing behind the podium, she saw the slouching silhouette of her husband standing in the doorway to the kitchen. She observed him, thinking, “How did the man I married become that person?”
Kate had married Dwayne just two weeks after her twenty-fifth birthday, during the summer she finished law school. Her groom was a tall and lanky, brown-haired accounting graduate. They had met in their final year of studies at law school. He was kind and intelligent, although his conservative views and reserved disposition often stifled her genuinely extroverted personality.
Upon graduation, Dwayne landed an accounting job with a local manufacturer. He had a promising career, but after a few years, grew weary of the mundane tasks and pressed her to start a family. He hadn’t developed any new friendships and had grown apart from many of his classmates from university. She was just beginning to make progress in her career, helping put together a number of monumental deals aiding in the software company’s global expansion.
Five years into their unsuccessful efforts to conceive, Dwayne passed up the opportunity to apply for a major promotion at work. As an only child, their inability to produce an offspring weighed heavily on him. His mother regularly commented on her desire for grandchildren and the necessity to carry on the Dingman family name. He somehow equated procreation with success, and without achieving that milestone, he perceived himself as unworthy of the promotion to company CFO. A year later, Dwayne had converted the room designated as the nursery into a TV room. He retreated more and more, spending all of his waking hours secluded in that room, drinking beer and watching television until he passed out. Throughout the journey, Dwayne had been unwilling to pursue testing to determine if medical intervention might be needed to enhance their fertility. He refused. She wondered if finding out that he might be infertile would have been too much for his tattered self-esteem.
The entire experience made him miserable and insufferable. While he somehow managed to function at work, he was overcast with everyone around him. His appearance was sloppy and disheveled. He had gained eighty paunchy pounds, unbalancing the healthy, slight figure that she had married. His eyes were always bleary and bloodshot, offset by his skin, which had turned sallow with red blotches. Bags appeared under his eyes and his once vibrant hair had lost its shine and luster. His appearance was an outward manifestation of a much deeper inner conflict. She had moved into a separate bedroom to dodge the repulsive odor of stale beer that emanating from his pores. She had suggested on numerous occasions that they consider separation or divorce. No matter how gloomy or depressed he was, Dwayne clung to his conservative roots, maintaining that the only appropriate end to marriage was death. It was just as well. The idea of splitting her assets with him and seeing them squandered away was just as unappealing as staying married.
Kate was not however, willing to let Dwayne’s misery contaminate the house or influence her own happiness. She decided to choose joy, keeping busy at work, staying involved with the friends, family, and causes that mattered to her.
Nigel’s speech and fundraiser concluded a short while later, and she took the time to thank each guest for their support and encouragement as they departed. As Mr. Taylor, her newest acquaintance and decidedly most attractive guest exited the event, he smiled and winked, adding, “I do hope we meet again, Kate.”
* * * *
As the election drew closer, the campaign kicked into high gear. Each and every hour of the day was consumed. Public appearances, debates, media interviews, knocking on doors, and countless strategy sessions filled the days from early morning until late evening. Kate went days without seeing Dwayne, but was greeted by the sick smell of stale alcohol most evenings when she passed by his room. She was somewhat relieved that he was so introverted, and that the media would have little or no chance to discover his drinking problem.
In a rare move, three weeks before the election, Dwayne notified her that he would join some co-workers for the weekend on an annual fishing trip. He had never accepted the invitation in the past, and she suspected he was attending this year to avoid any and all campaign activities.
With Dwayne away fishing, she took the opportunity to spend Saturday morning researching a few details at the campaign office. Kate was enjoying a cup of coffee while reviewing the boundaries of a number of critical polling stations when a campaign volunteer knocked on her door announcing that she had visitors. Dan and Stan, co-campaign managers, burst into the small office moments before two uniformed police officers appeared in the doorway. Dan
and Stan looked panicked…and ready to jump into damage control mode.
“Can I help you?” she asked, sitting back in her chair.
The tall officer on the left spoke first. “Are you Katherine Callahan?”
“I am. Can I help you?” she asked, with growing concern. Kate had sudden flashes of the night her mother had been killed in a car accident when she was eleven. She’d had recurring nightmares of officers showing up at her doorstep ever since.
“There was a single-car crash this morning on Highway 14 about twenty miles south of the city. Our investigation shows that the black four-door sedan, driven by your husband, lost control, left the road, and crashed into a tree. We believe that both occupants were killed instantly.”
Kate was reeling, trying to absorb the information.
Another car accident.
Dwayne was dead?
What did she think about this turn of events? How did she really feel?
“I’m confused,” she responded, “Dwayne was fishing at a cabin up at North Lake this weekend with some co-workers. That is more than a hundred miles in the opposite direction. Why was he driving south of here?”
“I’m not sure about a cabin, ma’am, but we did find a room key for the Evergreen Inn with your husband’s personal effects. It appears that he and his companion were registered there for the weekend.”
Her mind raced. Two occupants…a companion…who was Dwayne with? She tasted bile in her throat as Dwayne’s indiscretion became obvious. Stan recognized her confused expression and interjected. “You’ve mentioned a second individual. Have you determined their identity?”
