by Ines Saint
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.” He nodded once. “Ask me anything.”
She took a deep breath and let it out. “Why did you thank me yesterday for reminding you what being a prosecutor was about?” she asked. He froze, his surprise at her question clear, but she pushed on. “Power hungry you’re not, and you would never have offered to drop out if you were in it only to get ahead.”
Josh looked away, understanding now what she was about. She wouldn’t be giving him anymore of herself unless he gave a little, too. And she was smart to hold back. Intimacy was about a whole lot more than good conversation, a few laughs, and the mutual satisfaction of baser needs. He’d never had more than that. Not until last night, when Gracie touched his heart by baring hers.
He wondered what he could say. It wasn’t that he’d been holding back intentionally. It was only that there was no one to share certain thoughts with. He shrugged. “I’ve had a great life, Gracie. I was born into it and I’ve never wanted for anything. I can’t know what it’s like to grow up trying to survive in a crime-ridden neighborhood or be abandoned or have terrible role models or to live with constant anxiety over money. . . .” His voice trailed off for a moment as he tried to gather thoughts he’d never spoken out loud. “But day in and day out, I make decisions that mostly affect the lives of people who’ve had a difficult time of it. I apply the law, constantly read up on criminal justice policies, and work hard to be fair. I argue for the rehabilitation of lesser offenders who show promise and I’m about as aggressive as they come when it’s time to lock up monsters. But at the end of a tough day—and most days are tough—I can’t fool myself and think I’d be any different than the people I’m prosecuting if I’d been born in exactly their place, and I often don’t feel worthy of the trust victims put in me. I mean, what do I know about what they’re going through?”
He shrugged again, to convey that things were what they were and that he accepted them, but Gracie was staring at him as if he were something special, and it completely derailed his train of thought. A guy could get used to being looked at like that, as if he had a lot to give. “Do you hear yourself?” she asked.
“I do,” he replied. “Do you?” He was confused.
“Yes!” She stood in front of him and grabbed his hands. “You’re talking as if an awareness of the limitations of your experience somehow makes you unworthy of your job, when recognizing and understanding those limitations is exactly what makes you so great at it.” She brought one of his hands to her lips and kissed it. “Imagine yourself facing a sentence that doesn’t fit the crime you committed and then being tried by a know-it-all prosecutor who doesn’t weigh everything he should and who automatically asks for the maximum sentence because his tough-as-nails childhood informs him that people of privileged backgrounds live to take advantage of others. It’s the same thing, Josh. Everyone’s experience is limited, but not everyone recognizes it. Humility is important when you’re making decisions about people’s lives, I think. And nine years ago, when I placed my trust in you, it wasn’t because I thought you’d perform a miracle or because I thought you could feel exactly what I felt. It was because you listened and you weighed and you understood I deserved justice. That made you worthy of my trust long before you successfully argued my case.”
Josh didn’t know what to say. She was fired up. About him. And he was eager to change the subject. “Is flattery one of Rosa’s many tricks?” he asked with a smile.
“Ha!” she scoffed before straightening and shooting him an imperious glance. “Flattering a man merely to gain his attention is beneath a woman of superior worth.” Her imitation of Rosa was impeccable and he couldn’t help but laugh.
“You’re right. After all, you were doing a great job of making me a little crazy without it.” Without letting go of her hand, he brushed his index finger against her cheek before lowering their joined hands to his heart. He became serious. “Thank you for understanding.” He leaned in slowly again, wanting to savor the new, intense feelings she was provoking. He nipped at her lower lip before placing an open mouthed kiss on her soft, moist lips. Gracie sighed into his open mouth, and he brushed his tongue against hers, once. Her breath hitched and he could swear he heard her murmur, Wow, under her breath. He smiled under her lips and was about to sneak a hand around her neck to deepen the kiss when Gracie flicked the tip of her tongue against his once, and then twice, leaving his senses spinning at the unexpected, deeply sensual move.
Gracie wrapped her arms around Josh’s neck and pushed herself up, desperate to taste him. Her lips parted again, he swept in, and pleasure filled her in places that had long been empty. She moaned a little as he swirled his tongue around hers once before slowly sweeping in and out, making her crazy. When she tentatively mimicked his movements with her own tongue, he whispered her name as if he were in pain. She tasted the underside of his tongue and retreated, feeling so many dizzying sensations that she felt sure she’d faint. Josh groaned and plunged in and out of her mouth, and a desperation she didn’t know she could feel built up in her until she couldn’t take it anymore and she tore herself away.
She stared at him, eyes wide, scared at how much she wanted to possess and be possessed. “I’ve never wanted anyone like this. I’m not sure I want to.” The deep, intimate feelings involved in the frenzy finally taught her the lesson she hadn’t understood when she was younger. Her heart would always be involved. It would never just be flirting. It would never be just a kiss.
He nodded once and held her to him. His heart raced against hers. “Believe it or not, neither have I. Not like this. And I’m not sure I want to feel this way either.”
His words shook her and further confused her tangled emotions. “What do you mean?”
Josh smoothed her hair while he tried to sort himself out. “I think we’re both saying that this feels intense, and we don’t know how we feel about that.” They stayed like that for a long time, neither of them willing to say more, until Gracie pulled away. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll walk you home.”
She stepped back and shook her head. “No need. I think I’ll go for a walk. The sun doesn’t set for another half hour and I’m not ready to go home.”
“Too many nosy people across the hall?”
She let out a drawn, long-suffering sigh. “You caught that, did you?” He laughed and took her hands in his. “I don’t know what I want, Gracie, and neither do you, but I’m not ready to let you go just yet. How about you give me a tour of downtown Spinning Hills? Or have you had enough of me for today?”
Enough of him? The reason she’d pulled away was because she wasn’t sure she could ever have enough. But she couldn’t very well tell him that, so she answered with a question of her own. “Have you had dinner?” He shook his head no. “Then the first stop on the tour will be Coco Loco. It’s an authentic Mexican restaurant and the owner makes the best empanadas north of Mexico. We can stop by Huffy’s Tavern next; they have great beer on tap and the best wood-fired pizza in Dayton, and you’ll likely meet a quarter of the town’s residents. And after that we can stop by the café. They always have sugar cookies on Sundays.” She smiled up at him as she led the way out of the sewing-room. “I remember you used to love them.”
“That actually all sounds great.” He paused for a moment and added, “Even the sugar cookies.”
She smiled, feeling at ease again. “What do you mean, even the sugar cookies? They’re your favorite, aren’t they? Or at least they used to be. What are you in to now?”
He shrugged. “I guess I’m in to all sorts of sweet temptations.”
Chapter 14
Josh hit the alarm, flung his legs over the side of the bed, and took a moment to clear the slumber from his eyes. Taking a deep, bracing breath, he heaved himself up and turned the TV on to listen to the morning news as he got ready.
Two steps from the bathroom he came to a stop as the words of the local newscaster began penetrating his sleep-addled br
ain. He had to replay the words twice in his head to comprehend the full impact of what he was hearing.
But while the anonymous comments posted on our message boards were largely ignored, the video we received this morning does raise concerns about Josh Goodwin’s past relationship with an underage client. Channel 9 News is investigating. So far, no comments from Josh Goodwin’s camp. Dana, back to you.
Josh’s heart began pumping so fast, blood rushed in his ears. Within seconds he was at his computer and on the Channel 9 News website. He clicked around frantically, anxiety coursing from his chest to his fingertips, until he found a summary of the report . . . and the video. His phone rang. An unknown number. He was of half a mind to hurl the phone against the wall. Instead, he forced himself to click on the video, his need to confront what was happening head-on surpassing his sudden need for violence.
Josh fell back in mute, slack-jawed shock. It was a video of him walking out of the judge’s house, with Gracie, wearing only her nightshirt, in his arms, her naked legs hanging over his arms. Whoever had recorded it had taken close-up shots of both their faces. And though it was dark, it was clear it was them.
Too many powerful and competing emotions were coursing through him at once and he couldn’t think clearly. Fierce concern over Gracie’s safety and feelings, shock that someone had been close enough to record them while they’d been oblivious, fear that whoever it was might have been stalking Gracie to find out where she lived.
He shook his head and read the summary. It mentioned Pasts Matter as the anonymous tipster and linked the username to comments on popular local message boards and the pink frosting smeared across courthouse bathroom mirrors. It also mentioned they were trying to determine when the video had been recorded. The tipster had said it was taken nine years ago—when Gracie had been his client and a minor. The very suggestion made him sick to his stomach. No wonder it had raised enough flags for an investigation. To top it off, Pasts Matter had also provided evidence that Grace Dearborn, the woman in charge of the Dayton-Montgomery County Courts Building workspace renovation, was in fact Gracie Piper, and went on to speculate that she had obtained the job in exchange for her silence on her long-ago illicit affair with Josh.
All a pack of bullshit! He slammed his laptop shut and shut the TV off, too. The last thing he saw was Linda’s face, which meant her segment was coming on. Had she had anything to do with it? Her employer had broken the so-called story, after all.
He shook his head. First things first. He had to call Gracie. Then, he’d find a way to contact Alex Hooke to see if there were security cameras in Gracie’s building, and whether he had seen anything suspicious two nights before. He’d have to talk to Hope, too, and any neighbors.
Ten tries and five voice messages later, he threw the phone on his desk. She wasn’t picking up and Alex Hooke, who he knew worked out of the Cincinnati FBI building, was out of the office and they wouldn’t give him his cell phone number.
Meanwhile, he’d received a dozen calls, but he’d only taken the calls from members of his campaign committee because they were volunteering their time to elect him and he owed it to them. Thankfully, they were still on his side and believed him, though they told him he needed to be more open with them. The only communication he’d had with them about the comments Pasts Matter was posting online was to deny the allegations and to explain that Gracie was back in town and that he’d talked to her about it all. He’d never even thought to tell them that he and Gracie had become friends. Never mind everything else.
Could he ever be that open about his personal life? No, not when it involved someone else. The last thing he’d expected was such a gross and total violation of his and Gracie’s privacy. They’d been watched. And recorded.
A cracking sound caught his attention, and Josh looked down to see he’d fractured the remote control he was still holding in his fist. He shook his head, tossed it to the side, and quickly dressed for work while he listened to a few more voice mails. One of the calls made him want to snap his phone in two. A county board commissioner was calling to respectfully let him know that if the distractions continued, she’d have to reconsider her endorsement.
* * *
Gracie stepped out into the hallway and ran smack into a pale, rigid-looking Hope. “What’s wrong?”
“I’ll kill them. I swear I will!”
Gracie searched her sister’s angst-filled eyes. “Kill who?” Hope grabbed her hand and led her inside her apartment before sitting her down in front of her MacBook. Gracie was too taken aback by her sister’s death grip to resist or ask any more questions.
Five minutes later cold fury was running through Gracie’s veins. Hope looked into her wet eyes and hugged her head to her chest. “Oh, sweetie, don’t cry. This is all a lie. We’ll make everything right.”
“Tears of rage, Hope. Tears. Of. Rage.” Gracie’s throat was so clogged up she choked out the words. Another private moment filmed without her knowledge, this time, to hurl dirt at someone she cared about. She swallowed hard, but still her voice was strangled. “They stalked. They waited. This is vile. It’s beyond anything.”
Hope nodded emphatically at every word, her fists clenched. “Call the bastards at the station, give them a piece of your mind, and have them clear everything up on air. And then we can sit down and come up with a press release that tells the world exactly how we feel about the son of a bitch who stalked you and violated your privacy and—” Hope stopped when Gracie lifted up her hand.
“It won’t be enough. Josh will do all that and probably hold a press conference, too, and it still won’t be enough. I want to face them all while I tear the creep who did this into so many pieces that nothing they imply will ever mean anything again, no matter what stupid nickname they hide behind. I want to crush them so badly that Josh comes out on top. And I dearly hope it all pisses the creep off and sends him or her into fits.”
Hope grabbed her phone. “Let’s do it, Gracie.”
Gracie blinked. “Let’s? No. I’m not dragging you into anything.” Hope’s eyes blazed. “You’re not dragging me into anything. If anything, you’ll have to pull me, kicking and screaming, out of it. I was there that night, remember? I pretended to sleepwalk to drive you straight into Josh’s arms and look what happened! Think about it. If we go into this together and we both state our truths, we’ll slay them, Gracie.”
Gracie stilled. Slay with truths. A smattering of past lies didn’t matter. The truth mattered. There was an idea. She grabbed her phone. “I’ll set up a press conference. You rally the troops.”
“The troops?”
“The truth goes further back than this, Hope. We lived through it together, and something tells me you would all welcome a chance to tell off everyone who needs a good telling off.”
Hope’s eyes flashed with purpose, and Gracie knew then they would kill it.
* * *
Josh paced back and forth as both Helen and Jamar watched him, their expressions equal parts worry and exasperation.
Helen finally threw up her hands. “It’s been two hours, Josh; you need to get a longer statement out there! Railing against disgusting minds and denying that anything untoward took place nine years ago isn’t enough. You can’t keep waiting to reach Gracie. The video is out there and it’s clearly you and her, but it’s dark enough to look like it could have been taken nine years ago.”
Jamar rose from his seat. “My shift starts in thirty, dude. I’ve gotta get going soon. I’ll be checking my phone, but you need to get the truth out there. You can’t deny it’s her; that much they’ve already dug up. The only thing you can do is say it happened two days ago and explain why.”
“I’d sure the hell like to know how and why,” Helen grumbled. Josh clenched his jaw. They didn’t get it. No, there was no way to deny it was her. But what could he say? That Gracie had been out in her pajamas because she’d been chasing her somnambulant sister who was playing a prank? No one would believe it.
His p
hone beeped and he went around his desk to grab it. He was being inundated with calls and messages. His mom and dad and campaign donors were demanding to know what was going on. Reporters kept requesting interviews or statements. And Rachel and Bosco wanted to offer him support and let him know they had gone on record to condemn the intrusion into his privacy.
All the while, the one person he wanted to reach was MIA. Josh glanced down at the screen, bracing himself for one more demand or request, but then stilled and frowned. He looked up. “It’s Sherry. She says we should find a TV and tune in to Channel 9, stat.”
“My office,” Helen said, already halfway out the door. Jamar and Josh followed. When they got to Helen’s office, she closed the door, clicked on the TV, and flipped through channels until she found the right one, while Jamar settled into a chair and Josh leaned against the desk. He reconsidered his position the moment he saw the scene playing out on the television. Stupefied but unable to look away, he moved from the desk and reached all around him until he found a chair to drop himself onto.
“Uh, I think I see Gracie, but who are all those other people and where are they?” Jamar asked.
Helen released a long, drawn-out breath, muttering, “I don’t know if this is a good thing or a disaster,” before pointing to each person and naming them. “That’s Gracie’s grandmother, Sherry, Sherry’s business partners Ruby and Rosa, and Gracie’s sisters, Hope and Paige, if I remember them correctly. And they’re in front of the Gypsy Fortune Café and Bakery, the business Sherry and her partners own.”
