by Peak, Renna
I couldn't remember telling him about my favorite flowers, but it was a thoughtful gesture all the same. It made me happier than I had been in a long time. I inhaled a deep breath of the flowery air and sat down on the bed. I kicked my shoes to the floor before pulling my phone from my pocket. I turned it back on and texted him.
I touched the silky petals of a yellow rose, then turned my attention to the phone. "Thank you."
He replied a few seconds later. "You like?"
My lips turned up in a smile. "I love. How did you know?"
"It seemed like you."
My brow furrowed a bit. "I'm not sure how you figured out what I liked, but they are perfect."
"They?"
My brow dropped further, deepening into a frown. "The flowers."
"What flowers?"
Something wasn't right. "The flowers in my room?"
"Jen, I didn't send flowers. I told you I sent a package. Did you check for it?"
If he hadn't sent flowers, who the hell had? "I did check. There was no package."
He didn't reply for a long time. I stood from the bed and went to check the vases for a card. I began at the desk across from the bed, turning each vase around to check for a card or note—something, anything that would tell me who had sent them. It was an effort in futility. There was nothing.
He finally replied a few minutes later. "The package was signed for at the hotel. I put a tracer on it."
I shrugged. "Okay."
"I really did send you a package. It's important."
I bit the bottom of my lip before replying. "You could have delivered it in person then."
He didn't reply again for several moments. "If I could have, I would have."
"Oh. Is it the same reason I can't talk to you?"
He made me wait again for a reply. "Yes."
"I see." The happiness I had felt from being surrounded by my favorite colors was turning to anger.
"You don't understand. It's complicated."
I felt my jaw tense. Maybe he thought I was too dumb to understand. "You've said."
"Because it is."
"Right. And I'm too stupid to understand? Is that it?"
"I never said that. And I don't think that. I just want you to be safe."
"Who's going to hurt me in Des Moines with two Secret Service guards in my business all the time?"
He made me wait forever for his reply. And when it finally came the butterflies that had been in my stomach moments earlier turned to stones and almost knocked me over. The last thing he said to me that night was a single word.
"Me."
7
I tossed the phone over to the other end of the bed and brought my knees to my chest. I buried my head in my arms and closed my eyes. Why was I so stupid? I had some kind of knack for finding situations that made me feel like an idiot. I sat like that for a few minutes, then sat up. I smoothed my hair down and turned to sit on the edge of the bed. I didn't have time to sit there and feel sorry for myself. Brandon had been the one who had told me over and over about serendipity; he believed it, so why shouldn't I? Things that were meant to happen would happen. And the two of us were not meant to be. It was a fact that I needed to pound into my own head, no matter how much it made my heart ache. He would destroy me.
I stood up and checked the vases again for a card. There were only a few other people who knew what flowers would make me melt into a puddle. One was my father, and I knew he would have never sent this many flowers, not even to my funeral. There was only one person that would have done this, and I should have known who it was when I first saw them. My heart had wanted so much for it to have been Brandon, but my head knew it wasn't. Only Daniel would have done this. But he also would have sent a card. He loved sending letters, and I knew he wouldn’t have left that out if it had been him.
I checked each vase a third time. No note, no nothing. I grabbed my phone from the edge of the bed and glanced at the lock screen. Brandon hadn't texted again. I slid open the screen and checked my email. My contact information had changed since Daniel died—well, faked his death. I didn't think he'd be able to get my new email address, but I guessed I wouldn't know unless I checked. There was nothing in my email, but my heart knew the flowers had to be from him.
I heard a knock at my door and I walked over to open it. Krystal stood at my door with a white envelope in her hand. I raised an eyebrow at her and she gave me a curt nod.
She tucked a strand of her long, graying hair behind her ear before she spoke. "Why don't we go downstairs for a drink, Jenna?" She tapped the envelope against her other hand. I guessed that a drink with her was going to be the price for getting the card that was in her hand.
One of my guards was standing next to the door and nodded at me when I made eye contact with him. I looked back over at her, chewing at the inside of my lip. "Let me get my shoes."
She lifted her shoulders in a slight shrug and I went back into my room to put on my flats. I took another look around the room at the flowers. My body didn't react. Now that I knew they weren't from Brandon, there was no happy fluttering in my stomach, no tingling in my spine, no goose bumps. I knew in that moment that whatever Daniel and I had once was gone now. There was only an empty hole. I knew I didn't love him anymore. I felt a small wave of sadness go through my heart and I looked around the room at the flowers one more time. I knew it was over between Daniel and I. It would break his heart.
I frowned and grabbed my phone and wallet, heading back to the door to meet Krystal outside. She gave me another nod and we went down the elevator to the hotel bar. My guard followed us and stopped short of escorting us to our table at the back of the room. The bar was almost empty; there were only a few businessmen sitting at the bar, talking over something that I couldn't hear.
She took a seat across from me at the table and pulled out a cigarette. A waitress came to the table as soon as we sat down.
She gave Krystal a curt nod. "You can't light that in here. There's a no smoking law, you know."
Krystal tapped the end of the stick on the table and then opened her purse to throw it in. "Sorry," she muttered.
The waitress turned her lips up into a slight smile. "What are you ladies drinking tonight?"
Krystal replied first. "Rum and Coke. Make it a triple."
The waitress raised an eyebrow before looking over at me, giving me a little nod. "And for you, honey?"
"Just a sparkling water with lemon."
She nodded. "I'm going to need to see some ID. Because you're in the bar, not because of your drink." Her smile turned into a grin.
I shrugged and pulled my license out of my wallet and handed it to her.
She took it and looked down at the card. "You're Jenna Davis? Like the senator's daughter Jenna Davis?"
I let out a sound through my nose forced a smile. I held my hand out for my license. "The one and only."
She handed the card back to me and her grin widened. "Love your family.” She swung her head back and forth. “Your dad is going to make a great president. Let him know he has my vote." She turned and started to walk away before turning back. "I'll have your drinks right out."
I forced another tiny smile. "Thanks."
Krystal just gave her a dismissive nod and turned her attention back to me. She reached into her purse for the envelope. She fingered the edge of it, then tapped it on the table. "I suppose you're wanting this." It was a statement, not a question. She knew I wanted it.
I swung my head back and forth, giving it a slow shake. "Why do you have it?"
She gave the edge of the letter a couple of loud taps on the table. "I was trying to decide if I should give it to you."
I turned my hands up in a what-the-hell kind of gesture. "Why do you get to decide? Wasn't it sent to me?"
She gave the envelope another couple of taps, then slid it across the table at me. "I wasn't sure I should let the flowers stay, either."
I set the envelope in front of me, unsure of wheth
er I would open it there or wait until she was out of my presence. I realized she'd probably already read the contents, but I still didn't want her to have the satisfaction of seeing me read it. I didn't want her to know how I felt about anything. I didn't want her to have that power over me. I already had enough people in my life that had full control over everything. They were more than enough.
She nodded in my direction. "Are you going to open it?"
I shrugged and met her gaze. "Are you going to tell me what it says?"
She cocked her head to the side. "Why do you think I know?"
I shrugged and looked over her shoulder at the men sitting at the bar. They were engrossed in an animated conversation about something. Whatever it was had to be more interesting than the woman I was sitting with.
The waitress brought our drinks to us and gave me another grin. I forced another smile back at her, then turned my attention back to Krystal. "So did you take the other thing, too?"
Her eyes widened and I saw her lips turn up ever so slightly. "What other thing would that be?"
"A package. Something that was delivered for me this morning."
Her lips turned up into a bigger smile that she tried to hide by taking a sip of her drink. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Right." I took a sip from my own glass and touched the envelope that sat in front of me. "Why do you get to filter my mail?"
She shrugged, forcing a frown to her face before taking a swig from her glass. "It's not filtering. I'm just keeping you safe."
"Right," I repeated. "And taking things that don't belong to you is keeping me safe?"
She snorted and tried to stifle the laugh that formed on her lips. She took another sip of the drink and set it back down on the table. She couldn't hide the amusement on her lips.
I shook my head and looked back at the businessmen. "I'm so glad you find this funny."
She sighed, but the tiny smile didn't leave her lips. "You have no idea."
I pressed my lips together. "I really don't find it funny at all. But I guess I can't handle the truth." I fingered the edge of my glass. “You don’t seem to think so, anyway.”
She raised her drink to me in a mock toast before taking another gulp. She set the drink down in front of her. "Nothing like a movie quote to break the tension."
"I'm not trying to break the tension, Krystal. I'm an adult. Why don't you try telling me what's going on?"
She pressed her lips into a line and let them go with a loud pop. "Well, it isn't that simple. And the truth is, you really couldn’t handle the truth. Bad movie line or not." She mock-toasted me again and took another sip.
"Should I just leave? I mean, this isn't worth it. Does my dad know you're doing this?" I folded my arms across my chest like the petulant teenager I was beginning to feel like. It made no sense to me that I couldn’t be trusted to know what was going on in my own life.
She raised an eyebrow and the smile dropped from her face. Her voice lowered to almost a whisper and she narrowed her gaze at me. "Who do you think hired me, Jenna?"
"He hired you to go through my mail?"
"I was hired to manage his campaign. And that includes you."
I tilted my head. "He hired you? Or you were hired by someone else?"
She just shook her head and pointed an index finger in my direction. "And this is why you can't handle the truth."
"What truth?" I could hear my voice starting to become shrill. "Why does everyone treat me like a child?" I took a sip of my drink before clenching my fists, trying to calm myself down.
She shook her head again and downed what was left of her drink. She raised her glass in the direction of the bar and waited for the waitress to acknowledge her. She turned back to me and rubbed at the back of her neck. "I don't think anyone is trying to treat you like a child, Jenna. There are just some things you don't need to know. Things that would make the world a lot more dangerous for you if you did."
I picked up my glass and took a sip. I gave my head a little shake. "I just don't think I can deal with this anymore. It isn't worth it." I was so tired of feeling like the village idiot all the time.
She looked over at me and I could see the pity in her expression. "You don't get to choose, though. This life chose you. You don’t get to opt out." The waitress arrived at the table and set her drink in front of her. She gave her another nod and waited until she was out of earshot to turn back to me. "Your family name doesn't allow you to make the choice to opt out of this life, Jenna. No matter how much you might want to."
"My father doesn't need me…"
She cut me off with a dismissive wave of her hand. "This has nothing to with your father."
My forehead crinkled with my confusion. "That's the only family…"
She interrupted my words again with a wave. "It's not the only family, love. Think about it."
I furrowed my brow and shook my head from side to side. "But my mother's family…"
She pressed her lips together and nodded, giving me a knowing look. "Exactly."
I gave my head another quick shake and waved my own hand, denying what she was saying. "No, no. They haven't had anyone in politics for fifty years." I touched the rim of my glass. "It's been a long time. No one cares about me for that."
She tilted her head. "You aren't really that naive are you?" Her brows raised with the question. I wasn't sure if it was naivety she thought I suffered from or stupidity.
I sat back in my chair and waved my hand in front of me again. She was wrong about this. "About the Hennessey family? They don't even know me."
She laughed out loud and had to hold the edge of the table to steady herself. "You really are naive, aren’t you? Of course they know you." She shook her head, incredulous. "Are you playing dumb with me? They don't know you. Right." She shook her head with a grin before taking another sip of her drink.
"No." I shook my head at her, my brows furrowing into my eyes. "They wouldn’t know me if I came up to them and bit them. I've only met the Hennesseys twice in my life. Once at my grandmother's funeral…"
She cut off my sentence, interrupting. "And who was your grandfather, Jenna?"
I lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "Why does that matter? It was fifty years ago."
She nodded. "Do I really have to tell you this story? Your mother never even met him. Your grandmother was pregnant with her when he was killed." She took a sip of her new drink and crooked her finger at me again. "The Hennessey family is still beloved by a large swath of this country. Which is why everyone knows who you are. You are aware of that, right?"
"No," I denied it. "No, that's not why. They know me because my father is a senator." I nodded to myself. My dad had was in this third term as a senator from California and had been a foreign dignitary before that. People knew who I was because of him, not because of my mother or her family. I was sure of it.
She shook her head and I saw her lips turn up into a little grin. "How many other senator's daughters do you know?"
"A lot. I went to school with…"
She interrupted me again with a wave of her hand. "How many normal people know any senator's daughters?"
"I don't know. I don't see what this has to do with anything." I tapped the envelope in front of me. "I just want to make my own choices for my life."
She shook her head back and forth. "That will never happen. Your father will be president because of who his wife's father was, because of who your grandfather was." She pointed her finger at me again as she lifted an eyebrow. "Your husband will be carefully chosen for you, just like your mother's was for her. You don't get choices. You in particular. You, Jenna Davis. You don't get to make your own choices."
"Why me in particular?"
"You're the only child of the only child of the last president who was assassinated in this country. They made a poor choice in men for you the first time and they aren't going to let it happen again."
"I'm not marrying Will Howard. The guy's a dick. And Daniel was
n't a bad choice."
She laughed. "You'll marry who they tell you to. If it isn't Will Howard, there'll have to be a compelling reason why not, and it won't be 'because he's a dick;’ I can tell you that much. I can also tell you Will's father is wetting himself right now, thinking he'll get to marry his son into the Hennessey family."
"His father is wetting himself right now because he's eighty years old." I took a sip from my drink and forced my eyes into my drink, willing myself not to glare at her.
She threw her head back and laughed. "You know what?"
My face remained flat. I didn't think I wanted to hear another thing she had to say. "No. What?"
She chuckled and pointed over at me again. "That was the funniest thing I've heard in a while."
"Super." I picked up the straw from my drink and twirled it around the lemon in the glass. I pressed my lips together and wished I could be anywhere but in this bar with a cackling drunk woman.
She pointed her index finger at me again and lifted a single eyebrow. The alcohol was starting to affect her. "I like you. So I'm going to do something for you, Jenna."
"Oh yeah?" I stirred the lemon around and around the inside of the glass and stared down at it again.
She pulled her bag onto her lap and fished around in it. She pulled out a small, brown rectangular package from its depths. She slid the box across the table to me. "Here. For you. Against my better judgment."
8
The thought of not having any choices in my life was killing me. Hadn't I chosen Daniel? Maybe that was why he had to fake his suicide—because my family hadn't chosen him back.
I had housekeeping remove all but a small bouquet from my room. I tossed the unopened envelope and the unopened package onto the desk next to it and sat down on the bed. I stared at the items on the desk. I looked at the flowers and thought about Daniel. I had loved him once; I was sure of that. The brown, unassuming package represented Brandon. I thought I loved him and I was sure that I could. But it didn't matter. I couldn't have either of them, no matter what my heart said. There were greater forces at work than love. Forces I had never and would never understand.
