She didn’t lack for sponsors. Or she hadn’t lacked for sponsors until three days ago. “I have a pet store as a résumé, Mrs. Harrington. Not hedge funds or political connections or family lineage. But I have a passion and belief in my cause.”
“That isn’t always enough, is it?”
Sophie shook her head. “But this gala will happen. It’ll grow and those same businesses that refused this year will come forward, and I’ll add them to my growing wait list.”
“Unfortunately, my dear, you’ll have to add me to that wait list.”
Sophie’s breath wheezed out as if she were a deflated balloon. Of course she’d encouraged one of those childhood hope bubbles to blossom in the last fifteen minutes. Hadn’t she learned her lesson as a child? Mayor Harrington wasn’t like Sophie’s grandmother, but her words pierced all the same.
Mayor Harrington pulled two thin leashes from a drawer in her desk before opening the adjoining door to the dining hall. “Bradley, we’ll talk while I let the dogs run before I return to my guests. Evelyn, once you finish your plate, will you see to Bradley’s guest?”
Mayor Harrington turned and smiled at Sophie. “Ms. Callahan, it has been my pleasure.”
Brad hovered inside the doorway and glanced between his mother and Sophie. “We’ve taken you away from your guests long enough. And service has started.”
“You’ll walk with me, Bradley. The dogs will run, then I’ll join the ladies.” Mayor Harrington, still in her boots, opened the door wider and handed the dog leashes to Brad. “You’ve known most of my guests since you were in diapers, so we’re both aware they’re not waiting for me to return before eating. Move aside, so that I may introduce Evelyn to your friend.”
Brad passed the dog leashes from one hand to the other and searched Sophie’s face. She lifted her chin and pulled her dry lips into a short smile. Finally he moved out of the doorway and walked outside to retrieve the dogs.
“Sophie Callahan, this is my dear friend, Evelyn Davenport. She’ll entertain you while I speak to my son.” The mayor smiled, but her gaze assessed Sophie as if she was waiting for something.
Sophie wasn’t about to beg for more time with the mayor or plead with her to reconsider or whine to the woman’s friend. She refused to show her desperation. She jerked her gaze away from Mrs. Harrington and looked at Evelyn Davenport in her peacock headpiece. “Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Davenport, but you don’t have to entertain me.”
“It’s nothing.” Evelyn touched the rhinestone choker at her neck. “And I’ve just the thing for this occasion. I’ll be right back.”
Mayor Harrington opened the French doors when Brad appeared on the balcony with two greyhound dogs and a toy ball launcher. “We won’t be long.”
Sophie stared at the orange ball clasped in the throwing stick Brad held. If only chasing her survival was as easy as fetching a neon ball.
CHAPTER TEN
BRAD SQUEEZED THE leather dog leashes in his fist. He’d miscalculated badly. He’d expected Mayor Harrington, the shrewd politician, to identify the imposters from the legitimate, discredit the pretenders and expose the frauds. The one woman who’d have been immune to Sophie’s adorable face and persuasive story. The mayor should have needed less than five minutes to escort Sophie and her sham of a bash out of her office.
But that hadn’t happened. The mayor was in full Mrs. Harrington mode, hosting the monthly bruncheon for her closest friends, whom Drew and Brad had long ago affectionately coined the Myna Birds for their incessant chatter. That she’d slipped into her favorite boots in Sophie’s company proved she’d hung up her mayor hat for the afternoon.
Evelyn hadn’t mentioned the bruncheon when he’d talked to her yesterday and the topic never came up when he called his father last night to check in. So Brad had dropped into the gathering like fresh birdseed, drawing everyone’s attention. Fortunately, he’d adapted quickly by stowing Sophie in his mother’s office. He’d intended to sneak out of the house, but his mother had swooped in—a mom thrilled to welcome her son and his friend to her home. The Birds would know he hadn’t been home in almost a month. They also knew he hadn’t brought a woman home since his senior prom and that was simply because his date was the youngest daughter of a Myna Bird.
He pulled off the Velcro strap on the fleece coat and tightened it around Poe’s stomach. How had he misstepped so badly? He wasn’t usually so careless.
Thankfully Poe and Gunner needed to run or he’d be trapped in his mother’s office. He didn’t know how Sophie could stand it. Why she wasn’t rubbing her arms from the cold chill embedded in the marble floor. Or why she hadn’t thrown the French doors wide open and thrust her head outside, like a dog on a road trip, for a reprieve from the lung-clogging vanilla scent. At least he hadn’t seen her perched on one of those pretentious white chairs. That furniture had never fit him, even as a child.
The only time he’d ever had his mother’s full attention was when she’d summoned him to her sanctuary. Somehow even those moments in her office had never been enough and he’d always left feeling emptier than when he’d entered.
His mother joined him on the small crest beyond the gardens. “It’s interesting you’d bring Sophie Callahan here to ask for my help when you know full well I could never support her. Evelyn is a dear friend.”
“I never gave you Sophie’s last name.” He unhooked the dogs’ leashes and used a hand command to get them to sit.
“That young woman looks like her father, George Callahan. They share the same deep brown eyes and bone structure in their cheeks.” She took the launcher from Brad, signaled to Poe and threw the ball. “Aside from the physical similarities, there’s only one new gala being organized in the Bay Area. George boasted about his daughter at the theater league ball we all attended together. How do you think she garnered such lucrative sponsors?”
“Those same sponsors also pulled out, but you already know that, too.” Brad pulled another ball from his pocket and launched that one for Gunner.
“I can’t sponsor an event my dear friends don’t support.” His mother picked up the ball Poe had dropped beside her boots and handed it to Brad. “What would they think of me?”
“Anonymous donations are made all the time.” Unless his mother suspected Sophie of some sort of deception.
She shook her head. “Much too obvious. Sophie had a private audience with me and within days her gala is back on course. That’s rather convenient. Besides, we must all carry the burden of our own guilt. It cannot be shared or lessened by someone else.”
“I have no guilt.”
“You’re investigating Sophie’s father for something more than sleeping with younger women.”
He opened his mouth to argue.
“Save your breath.” She waved him silent with a sharp flick of her hand. “You and Evie can share her secret. I have enough confidences to keep. I don’t need the burden of another. Yet the fact remains that you’re looking for her father and you haven’t told Sophie the truth.”
“I haven’t lied to Sophie.” She just hadn’t asked.
“Omission is the same,” his mother said. “I should know. I’ve turned it into an art form the past decade. But I’m curious as to why you brought Sophie here.”
Brad watched the dogs sprint back, eager to return to his mother. He was suddenly eager to run away. What would his mother think if he explained that he doubted a woman who’d unselfishly stepped up to raise her niece and planned a dog ball to benefit service animals, of all things? She was likely to take the ball launcher and rap him on his head.
His silence failed to deter his mother. “You expected something from me. But from the frown embedded in your cheeks, I haven’t delivered.”
This would’ve been much simpler if only she’d called Sophie a fraud. Then he wouldn’t be standing here debating whethe
r he was more irritated with his mother or himself. “Why did you introduce Evelyn and Sophie?”
“I suppose for the same reasons you brought Sophie to me,” she said. “We both wanted a reaction.”
Seemed neither of them had gotten the response they’d expected. Except he wasn’t sure what reaction his mother wanted. “So you’ve been prying into Evelyn’s personal life after all.”
“One can never have enough information. When that information proves to have value, it’s even more important to own.” Her smile spread, but she restrained it from being too wide like a beauty queen accepting her crown, or too natural like a child on Christmas morning. But there in the familiar grin, Brad saw the politician he knew all too well: the calculating, ruthless, focused woman who’d raised him. He’d seen that look too many times when he’d been discovering the truth on one of his cases.
“What game are you playing now?” His grip tightened around the plastic handle of the ball launcher. “Evelyn’s your lifelong friend.”
“How do you expect me to protect her without all of the information?” she asked.
“You can’t investigate everyone for secrets and information you might find useful later on.”
“I can’t, but you will. That’s your job.”
“Not anymore.” He’d already paid the final invoice on the Freedom Seeker’s restoration—in effect, a cease-and-desist order for his mother.
“You’ll do something for me.”
“I stopped doing favors some time ago.” When he’d realized that he hadn’t atoned for anything while working as his mother’s lackey. He’d only become more jaded than when he’d left the agency four years ago after his witness had been killed. But he wasn’t here to rehash the past. “Besides, you denied Sophie your sponsorship.”
“You can’t know that.” His mother leaned over and kissed Gunner on the top of his head.
“Disappointment was written all over Sophie’s face. She wasn’t clutching a check and hugging you in gratitude.” Of course his mother never hugged people, but still, he’d expect Sophie to embrace her anyway in her enthusiasm. Sophie’s gaze, however, had lost its joy, and that had burrowed through to his core, leaving him as hollow as Sophie’s forced grin.
“You should be pleased.” She handed him Gunner’s ball. “You’re investigating her father—and Sophie, by extension. You wouldn’t want the mayor of Pacific Hills connected to a fund-raising scam.”
Brad threw the ball, watching Gunner tear across the lawn. He felt as if, instead, he’d run for the ball and suffered whiplash, just inches from securing the prize. He’d reached the end of his leash. “Then you think it’s a scam?”
“I think I want tickets to Ms. Callahan’s bash.”
Surprise knocked him back. He scratched at his neck. “You refuse to sponsor her gala, but you want tickets to attend and, on top of that, you believe it’s a scam?”
“You’re the one who seems to think it could be a scam.”
He hated arguing semantics with his mother. She’d had too many years of practice and had perfected her skills in the political realm. “Why?”
“Animal causes are very dear to me.”
“You don’t have to attend to open your checkbook.” Brad squeezed the ball Poe, obedient and dutiful, had dropped at his feet. Everything Brad used to be. “This isn’t about the money, is it, Mother?”
“If Sophie released her severe ponytail and applied lipstick and eyeliner, I imagine she’d be quite attractive.”
“She’s beautiful because she’s natural and understated.” Brad launched the ball. It was easier to keep up with the dogs’ simple agenda of playing fetch, rather than his mother’s.
“You never had a preference for her type before,” his mother said.
“I never had a preference for scotch either, but tastes evolve.”
“It’s good her niece shares her bone structure and porcelain skin,” his mother said. “A natural beauty.”
“Sophie mentioned Ella?” Brad was confused. Five minutes with his mother and surely Sophie would’ve realized his mother lacked the DNA structure for empathy.
“The internet can be very helpful.” If his mother believed tsking was something other than vulgar, she would’ve done just that, he was sure. Instead, she patted Poe’s head, her tone condescending. “Bradley, dear, I don’t need you for every detail.”
“No, you only need me for the details that end careers, ruin marriages and implode personal lives.” His mother’s campaign trail was littered with collateral debris and masked by the adventures of her greyhounds. He needn’t look any further than Evelyn and Richard for evidence.
Worse, he’d loaded the gun with proof of Richard’s backroom promises to a construction lobbyist to guarantee votes in the primary. His mother had promised Brad that she’d fix everything. Instead, she’d pulled the trigger that had alerted the press; it resulted in key unions transferring their support from Richard to his mother, thereby granting Nancy Harrington the primary win with a clear path to the Mayor’s seat. If only he’d kept silent.
“I vowed to deliver the truth to the people of Pacific Hills,” she said. “I’ve done just that and haven’t failed my supporters.”
“You deliver your version of the truth, you mean.”
“You grew your company and exemplary reputation on my truth,” she said. “You made a lot of money and established yourself as a premier expert in your field. I fail to see the problem.”
He felt as if Poe’s orange ball had been lodged between his ribs. He’d enjoyed his work, been fulfilled by his cases. And sold himself on his own lies of justification like his mother. “I have a new truth now.” Which was to find the man he used to be before he’d derailed into the corruption and become someone he didn’t even really like.
“Yes, the boat you intend to sail away on.” She walked farther on, away from the house. “The only truth you’ll discover alone in the blue waters is that you and I aren’t so very different after all.”
“You’re wrong, Mother. You wanted me to be like you, but I’ve finally grown up.”
“Our family roots run too deep inside you to be severed that easily.” She spun and smiled at him. The sun lit her from behind as if she was some prophet sent to deliver the good news. “You’ll learn that one day.”
“I won’t be you, Mother.”
“You already are. I thought you’d be tired by now from fighting that truth for so long.” She tipped her head. Her laughter was light and quick, making it obvious he’d failed to mask his surprise. “Come now, Bradley, all those stunts in high school, those incidents in college and now this boat expedition—they’ve all been attempts to make a stand, to prove you were different, not like the other Harringtons. But you’ve only proved you are as driven and dedicated as me.”
“Dedicated? Is that the campaign buzzword these days?”
“You’ve been dedicated to your task of not becoming like your mother, but I have to wonder what would happen if you’d simply accept that you’re just like me.”
“I’m never entering politics, Mother,” he said. “You’ll have to look to Andrew for your legacy.”
“There’s more to life than politics, Bradley.”
A small burst of laughter escaped. “But there will only ever be life in politics.”
“I never told you that.”
“You didn’t have to,” he said. “Drew and I lived it every single day with every single breath. Heck, Drew still lives it.”
“There’s no shame in being a Harrington with a strong heritage of people who’ve served in political roles.” She lifted her hand, signaling for the dogs to return to her side. The motion was almost unnecessary as she assumed everyone around her simply understood her commands and responded accordingly. She passed the dogs’ leashes to him. “It’s tim
e I returned to my guests. Please see that Gunner and Poe get their lunch.”
Brad led the dogs to their private kennel area, which was an oasis complete with fountain and plush beds that any person would be jealous of.
His mother was wrong. His heritage wasn’t the problem. His shame came from the fact that when he looked at the world now, it wasn’t with hope. When he looked around now, he suspected the long-time, exemplary finance officer of falsifying accounting reports to cover his fraudulent transactions. He doubted the sincerity of an injured employee, assuming she took off her neck brace to run errands across the bay where no one would recognize her. He questioned the appointment of a top political advisor to a popular legislator, wondering who he’d paid off to claim the position. Distrust tainted his insight and polluted his perception of the world. And he hated himself for that. Feared he might never stop looking for the bad in every corner and every shadow and every laugh.
Despite everything, his mother still believed in her cause. Still believed she’d made a positive impact. He almost envied her for that.
Then there was Sophie Callahan. The goodness practically oozed from inside her. But he held himself back. He could lose his heart to a woman like that. But if she proved to be another lie, that’d be a blow he’d never recover from.
Besides, too good to be true always exacted a price.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SOPHIE GLANCED AROUND the mayor’s pristine office. She’d wasted the entire morning when she should’ve been chasing down her dad, not chasing her dream of the gala. All of this had come about because she’d wanted to avoid talking with Brad about her phone call at City Suds. She could’ve just said the call was from a frustrating family member.
But there was something about Brad, protecting her hand inside his own, his eyes kind, his smile open, and she’d almost blurted out everything. Yet trusting someone not in her inner circle wasn’t in her nature.
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