The Galilee Falls Trilogy (Book 3): Fall of Heroes

by Harlow, Jennifer

  He presses his fist to his heart. “I’ll guard it with my life,” he says with a smile too.

  “Don’t go too far there, Ambrose. You’ve already died once for this city.”

  “I didn’t do that for the city.”

  Goddamn it. My whole body lights up with warmth and I have to hustle out of the room before they see me blush or I say something I’ll regret.

  Running away. Backing down. I swore I’d never do either. That’s not who I am. Of course lately I barely recognize myself. And I’m not sure I like the person I’ve become. Merely good enough. That’s me now. Miss Good Enough. It’ll have to do. But once a person recognizes there’s something better than good enough, going back into the shade feels like you’ve entered perpetual darkness. Because good enough really isn’t.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Miss Good Enough

  “My eyes are up here, playboy.”

  If I had a dollar for every time I’ve caught Bennett glancing at my chest or ass this past week, The Guardian Society wouldn’t need my millions for funding. I’m beginning to think he can’t help it, like it’s a nervous tick or Tourette’s. My tits are decent but tastefully concealed tonight. Even a gal from Diablo’s Ward knows you don’t meet the President with your boobs spilling out.

  Bennett talked me into tonight. The Selena Weiss Parkinson’s Foundation is one of the most influential charities in Independence. All the glitterati and power players will be at the President’s Mansion for the event, including heads of other charities and politicians we need to befriend. What he meant is suck up to them. I’ve been attending these events for over a decade, first as Justin’s plus one of last resort, then as the head of Pendergast. Never got to meet the President though. I’m actually nervous. Not that I voted for him.

  I’d completely forgotten Jem and I were supposed to attend this together until I was getting ready tonight. As part of Selena’s medical team, he was meant to be an honored guest. He’s not coming. He hates these things even more than I do. Any excuse to miss one. Not that he didn’t have cause this time. Besides an appearance by the villain Eclipse, alls been quiet on the Galilee front. At least he finally got that bastard. Alex Nunn is now the only supervillain inhabiting Xavier’s Hardcore Unit awaiting trial. No luck finding his brethren. This case is in serious danger of growing cold. I’m still on the suspect list but firmly in the middle. Same nothing news on the bribery charges. The case against me is still open but hasn’t moved ahead. Yet.

  The one light in my otherwise dark gray world is The Guardian Society. It’s moving ahead like an express train fueled by plutonium. I’ve been pulling sixteen hour days this whole week, tonight’s ass kissing included, but the infrastructure is almost erected. We have a preliminary board of directors with me at the head, we have filed with the tax office and been incorporated, and hired the last of the dream team. The trunk of the tree is established and we even have a few branches sprouting. All thanks to me. Bennett’s been in and out, an hour or two here and there, when he’s not running his empire or side projects. He still found time to bring and eat dinner with us most nights and even dragged me out to a movie when I began screaming at our marketing guy over a missing file.

  Tonight I spent an hour at the salon, have no circulation in my feet thanks to three inch heels, and am more dress than woman. Normally my personal shopper Isolde just tosses a designer dress at me, but Bennett’s designer friend brought over a black and gold beaded satin kimono gown that covers my scars and has a tasteful V-neck, hence my companion’s downright staring at my chest. I pray the tape holds. I think Bennett’s hoping for the opposite.

  “What?” my friend asks innocently. “Truly beautiful sights should be admired. And often. But I promise to change things up and stare at your ass when we get out of the limo.”

  And cue that damn smile of his. It never fails to draw one to my face. I manage to keep this grin relatively quick. “Seriously though. Keep the flirting to a minimum tonight. This is not a date. It’s business. We need to appear professional. Capable. The kind of people they can trust to give money or put their reputations on the line to help cut through red tape.”

  “Then maybe we should have a quickie in the limo. It’d help me focus,” he says with that smile.

  Damn it. There goes mine. I do whack him with my clutch bag. “I’m serious,” I chuckle.

  “I know,” he chuckles back. “There’s no need for violence, Fallon. I’ll be on my best behavior. I promise.”

  The limo pulls up to the first security checkpoint. The dogs sniff as the President’s First Guardsman check our IDs. We’re flying solo tonight. Bennett was very accommodating when I flew into town. There were a car and two bodyguards waiting for me at the airfield. His one stipulation for our partnership: round the clock protection, not just for my own safety. I couldn’t argue with the logic. He and the team aren’t used to having looming threats surrounding them. It seems to put the others at ease. And maybe my new guards were enough for Justin to stop his stalking. I’ve only caught sight of him twice, once in street clothes and the other in his new White Knight uniform. I liked the Justice costume better. But tonight what with half the IDP, Feds, and the First Guardsmen detailed to the party, my guards get the night off. I do wish I could have brought a gun. I feel naked without one.

  A Guardsman helps me out of the limo, and after a few more hoops and metal detectors, Bennett loops his arm with mine and we advance to the step and repeat, my least favorite part of these events. Dozens of flashing lights, people shouting questions, then the next day you’re plastered all over the newspapers and tabloids getting judged. Too fat, too thin, still drinking, mind controlled by aliens, I’ve been called them all. Normally I bypass the gauntlet, but Bennett vetoed that action. The more people talk about us, the more press the Society receives. So I stand like a mannequin with a fake smile as I’m blinded and rendered almost deaf by their questions.

  “Did you leave Jonathan Ambrose for Bennett Stone?”

  “Who are you wearing?”

  “Did you kidnap James Ryder?”

  Those are just the ones I can make out. Bennett waves to the masses with his best boyish grin affixed. The three people in this country who don’t think we’re a couple will by tomorrow. It hasn’t gone beyond flirting, though there is that open invitation to stop by his penthouse day or night wearing nothing but a smile. Even if I wanted to take him up on the offer I’ve been too exhausted after work to do anything but sleep. Which is what I wish I were doing right now.

  At least he doesn’t make me answer questions. The journalists get their photos and Bennett ushers us toward the final security checkpoint. Our publicist is setting up real interviews for next week when we officially become a foundation. First I need to return to Galilee and rent offices, begin hiring there, ugh just stop, Jo. Baby steps. Just get through the night without offending anyone.

  The President’s Mansion is a lot smaller than I’d envisioned and a lot more modern, probably because this is the third incarnation. It was blown up the first time forty years ago by the villain General Chaos then again fifteen years ago by Left Hand. Jordan Ambrose tried too, but Jem defused the bomb in time. Hopefully tonight we can schmooze unmolested by nut cases trying to make a name for themselves. God I wish I had a gun.

  As always I seem to be the resident curiosity. This event is $5,000 an invite. I’ve found rich people often have the worst manners. A glance, look away, then whispers. Almost every person, hell even the paintings of past presidents we pass down the hall to the ballroom. Even my companion notices, his eyes narrowing at one such guilty party. Then the next. “Wow,” he whispers.

  “That’s what you get for bringing a girl with a reputation to the ball.”

  We enter the packed ballroom where easily four hundred people chat, dance to big band classics, sit at tables surveying the dance floor, or line the walls bidding on the silent auction items. Beyond the odd movie star, I don’t recognize anyone save for one. I thought
she was in Milan. My stomach knots a little. Alexia “Lexie” Darby is hard to miss. The supermodel and secret former superhero holds court with three other socialites, no doubt gabbing about fashion and gossip. One woman glances over at me, eyes growing before turning to her clique to announce my arrival. Lexie gazes over and nods. I stare straight ahead. Okay, now I wish I had my gun and a drink.

  “Bennett!” a man says to our right.

  “Graham!” my companion says with a grin as the man and his pretty, petite blonde wife approach. The men hug and the blonde stares at me, a serene smile filling her elfin face. I nervously smile back. “I didn’t know you two were coming.”

  “We needed a night out after everything,” Graham says. He turns to me as well. “And we heard you’d be here.”

  “Joanna Fallon, may I present my cousin Graham Stone and his wife CeCe. They’re my goddaughter Nathalie’s parents. You remember—”

  “Right,” I say, my brain finally booting up. “I’m so sorry. How is she doing?”

  “So much better,” CeCe replies almost breathlessly. “All the advice you gave, the facility you recommended, is working wonders. It’s saved her life. Truly.”

  “I just told the truth. It was all of you who really saved her. And will continue to. Just love her and do what’s best for her, no matter how hard or harsh it may have to be.”

  “We will,” Graham says.

  “Can I…hug you?” CeCe asks with tears in her eyes.

  “Uh, okay.”

  The tiny woman wraps her arms around me, and I give the stranger a squeeze back. CeCe breaks apart first. “Thank you.” She turns to Bennett. “Don’t you dare let this one get away from you, Bennett Stone. She’s a keeper.”

  “Oh, we’re not—”

  “I’m doing my utmost to convince her of that,” Bennett cuts in. “But do save me a dance, CeCe. Now, if you’ll excuse us, there are several senators whose asses we need to kiss. We’ll find you when the business portion of the evening is done. Have fun.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I say before stepping away. PDA. Not my thing.

  We manage face time with two senators, leaving both men dazzled, and one with my autograph. Five more targets to go, including our next mark, the Director of the Justice Department. We’re halfway to our destination when I spot two faces I hoped I wouldn’t have to see. Justin, like Bennett, was born to wear a tuxedo. I remember the first time I ever saw him in one. My breath literally stopped. Every time after that, for twenty years, I’d get butterflies. Even now as a brunette with a beard, and wearing black gloves, he turns heads. Lucy stands a head shorter than him. I swear she only owns three dresses. Tonight it’s the black and silver satin with lame jacket. Matronly is an understatement. They move toward us like cruise missiles. I sigh before plastering a smile on my face. Nice, sweet, professional Joanna Fallon doesn’t spit in people’s faces no matter how much she may want to.

  “Joanna,” Lucy says, as always with a hint of disapproval.

  “Lucy. Bennett, have you met Lucy Helms and…I’m sorry. I know we’ve met, but I guess you never made an impression.”

  “This is my cousin Charles’ son, Joe Proctor.”

  “Right. Right, you were one of the few of Justin’s cousins who didn’t sue me,” I say. “Boy that was a nightmare when I was already in the middle of another one. I should have just turned the company to the hyenas.”

  “Justin knew you were the best person to continue his legacy,” Lucy says. “And now you’ve turned it over to strangers.”

  “Shannon is hardly a stranger. And I was tired of living for other people.”

  “And Pendergast’s loss is the world’s gain,” Bennett adds.

  “Yes, we were just talking about this new organization of yours,” Justin/Joe says. “A very worthwhile endeavor. If there’s anything we can do to help…”

  “How kind of you,” Bennett says. “We can use all the help we can get.”

  Justin nods at my date before turning my way. “Well, it will cost Ms. Fallon a dance.” He holds out his arm. “May I?”

  Fuck. With a fake smile, I take his arm. “Anything for the cause.”

  Justin leads me to the dance floor. “You look very pretty tonight.”

  “Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Proctor. That ship sailed two years ago after waiting at the dock for twenty.”

  The corners of his mouth twitch with displeasure. Good.

  When we reach the floor, he takes my hand and wraps the other around my waist. He must have a top of the line prosthetic because not only do the fingers close around my palm, but it feels almost soft. Almost real. Cold but real. “I always knew you were pretty, Jo. Even when you didn’t.”

  I roll my eyes right before we begin waltzing. “So, is Joe Proctor a fixture on the social scene? Kind of dangerous, especially if the real Charles and Joe Proctor get wind.”

  “They died in a car accident decades ago and were black sheep. Heard of but never met. But I still keep a low profile.”

  “You here to continue your stalking duties? Risking exposure for little old me. I should be honored.”

  “That’s part of it. I heard a rumor The Nothing Man might attempt something.”

  “He your new arch-nemesis?”

  “Not exactly. Just an annoyance. If he does crash—”

  “Run and hide. I know the drill. I’m too exhausted to fight tonight.”

  “Could have fooled me,” he says without a hint of humor.

  “You just bring it out of me…Joe.”

  We dance in silence for a few seconds. “Do you remember the last time we danced together? My engagement party. Do you remember that night?”

  “Of course.”

  More oppressive silence, then, “I miss her. I miss them both. That little precious girl…”

  Shit. I cringe at the memory, not just of finding their corpses. No, worse is the thought of the three of them playing on the beach, Daisy giggling as she ran into the water where Justin waited for her. He spun her around as Rebecca beamed. I hated her then. For taking him away from me. He was blissful, and I was miserable. Not my finest moment. “I, uh, found some pictures Daisy drew. I can send them to you or…whatever. If you want them.”

  “I would. Thank you.” He pauses. “And I haven’t, uh, had a chance to thank you for going ahead with the Thornton Wing.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “And thank you for everything else. Taking over the company. Taking care of Dobbs. The manor. I know it was a lot to ask. You did an amazing job. Just like I know you’ll do an amazing job with your new venture. Even with him as a partner.”

  “What have you got against Bennett?”

  “Nothing. We were friendly. He’s a sharp businessman. He’s also a shrewd, shallow, selfish cad. You deserve better.”

  “In a business partner?”

  “You know what I mean. He’s not good enough for you.”

  “Why? Because he doesn’t lie to me? Doesn’t drag me into life and death situations? Save the speech, okay? I’m not with Bennett. And even if I was, it’s none of your business. Your opinion means less than a stranger’s. We have only just met, Joe.”

  “Just don’t do anything you’ll regret. That you can’t take back. Will you at least concede I’m an expert on that?” I keep my mouth shut, as close as he’ll get to an agreement. “I know what you’re doing, Jo. So do you even if you won’t admit it to me or yourself. Jem’s a good man. One of the best people I’ve ever met. Behind you. Just don’t take too long forgiving him, okay? Or punishing yourself. You and I both know from experience how quickly life can change. How easy it is to lose people we love. That every moment is precious in this fragile world. He made one mistake for the right reasons. You forgave me for Justice.”

  “Then not a week later you were back lying to me,” I point out. “Fool me once, shame on you. Twice? That’s on me. I’ve learned that lesson. Never again.”

  “Jem’s not me. Don’t penalize him for my t
ransgressions. Or yourself.”

  The song ends, and I pull away to clap. “Thank you for the dance. And good hunting. Hope you do that better than your therapy sessions.” With a fake smile, I walk away.

  Oh I do so love our chats. They’re so uplifting.

  Just to piss him off, I zoom straight to Bennett, who talks to an elderly gentleman, and snake my arm around his waist, much to his surprise judging from the narrowed eyes. “Sorry about that, playboy. Hope I didn’t make you too jealous.”

  “Maddeningly so,” Bennett quips back before turning his attention back to the man.

  We hit up targets three and four before I have to excuse myself to the ladies’ room. I need a break from smiling and false compliments. I—

  When I step out of the stall, another blast from the past waits by the sinks, giving me one of her million dollar smiles. Really. She can get a million dollars just to hold a perfume bottle and smile. Perhaps I’m just too tired, but feel only minor irritation when I set eyes on her again. “Seriously? You too?”

  “Nice to see you too, Jo. You look…tired.”

  I roll my eyes. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  “I’ve supported the charity for years.” She smiles and shifts her weight to her right hip. “So. Should we give them the cat fight they want?” Lexie asks. “Of course everyone thinks I’ll be instigating since you got my husband killed.” She lifts her chin up. “Come on. I’ll let you take the first punch.”

  “You’re not worth ruining my manicure.” I walk past her to the sinks to wash my hands. “Or my time.”

  “Well, you can try to throw me out but we both know I can take you.” She opens her purse and removes lipstick. “So, the rumors are true. You and Bennett Stone. He is good in bed. I remember our night fondly. He—”

  “Really? You want to talk about this? You don’t have anything to say about, oh I don’t know, your betrayal? Lying to me?”

  “No. You’re mad. I understand. I have no real defense except a promise is a promise. That and it’s over. It’s done with. If I could go back in time, I would do it all over again. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for my friends. You included.”