The Chosen One (26 page)

Maya ground her teeth.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I dug into your past. I’m sorry your name got out. I’m sorry I ruined your life. And I’m sorry you met me! Is that what you want me to say? That everything is my fault? My fault because I’m a Carmichael?”

She remained speechless, but the tension in her shoulders eased a little.

“If that’s what you want me to say, then I’m sorry, but I’m not going to say I’m sorry I met you.”

Maya blinked rapidly.

“None of this is my fault. And it’s not yours either. Everything that’s been going on is out of our control. It has been since day one. You didn’t choose your parents, and I didn’t choose my family. Those were the cards we were dealt.”

More tension slid from her body.

“What we can choose is up to us. Do you want to go around being your mother’s daughter, or do you just want to be Maya? Or Carisa? I don’t know about you, but I’m sick and tired of being Ainsley Carmichael. I want to be just Ainsley. I want people to know me for who I am, not who others want me to be‌—‌
demand
me to be.”

Grover barked right on cue, as if he was saying
damn right
. Or possibly
throw my ball
, which Maya did. He zipped off, and Maya followed him with her eyes.

“I know this has been hard on you. Not just today. All of it. And then finding out that I knew…” I let out a bark of mirthless laughter. “I’m sure that didn’t feel good at all. But ask yourself something: Are you angry with me for knowing, or are you angry that you never got the chance to tell me?”

“I’m angry you broke your promise to me. You of all people. I trusted you, and I don’t trust anyone but Agnes.” Her face darkened with rage.

I took a step back and studied a retreating wave. “I know,” I whispered.

“I kept my word.” She had to dig the dagger deeper into my heart.

“I never doubted you. Do you want to know why I made you promise not to read Susie Q’s blog?”

She remained speechless.

“Because I didn’t want you to see this.” I whipped my iPhone out of my back jeans pocket. “When I was sixteen, I fell for a friend.”

Maya stiffened.

“She was gay,” I explained, “but what I didn’t know was that she was on Susie Q’s bankroll.” I fiddled with the phone. “They concocted an elaborate plan to humiliate me.”

I hit play on the video.

Cassidy and I were sitting on her bed, confessing how much we liked each other. It was obvious we were going to kiss. When I leaned in, Cassidy put a finger on my lips. “Wait,” she said. “I want this to be special. Close your eyes.”

Unable to watch what was about to happen, to relive that day, I closed my eyes on the beach, too.

A rustling sound came over the video, and I heard my sixteen-year-old voice ask, “What are you doing?”

“Don’t you trust me?” Cassidy giggled.

My younger self chirped, “With my heart.”

I cringed at how pathetic I sounded.

Maya’s sharp intake of breath alerted me it was about to happen.

The betrayal.

Cassidy’s voice on the video said, “Okay, keep your eyes closed, but I’m ready.”

And then the shriek, followed by an ear-piercing squeal.

“This just in folks. Carmichaels will do anything for a vote.” Then Susie Q’s laughter.

I hadn’t ever actually watched the video, but I’d relived it a million times since then in my head.

I hadn’t kissed Cassidy that day; I’d kissed a piglet.

“In less than twelve hours, everyone at school had seen the video. It went viral on YouTube. For the next year, everyone at school called me Piglet.” I wiped my eyes with a sleeve.

Maya nodded as if she was starting to understand, but she didn’t attempt to reassure me.

“At the time, I thought Cassidy had gone to brush her teeth or something,” I explained. “I later learned Susie Q had been waiting downstairs with the animal. The entire thing was a setup. It had been from day one.”

Maya blackened the screen on my phone and handed it back to me.

“After that, I threw myself into the Carmichael quest. I vowed I’d never let another person into my life, vowed never to trust. Then I met you. When you stormed off after our first kiss, I panicked. I thought…”

“That I worked for Susie.” She filled in the blanks.

“That’s why I started digging. It wasn’t right, but that’s why. I’d known Cassidy since grade school. She’d been my best friend.”

Maya busied herself with digging the toe of her shoe into the wet sand.

“No matter how hard I try to shake off my last name, everything circles back to the political shenanigans pulling all the strings since the first Carmichael set foot on American soil. You aren’t alone in feeling manipulated. Our pasts our different, but we both ended up here. Me, I’m tired of the game. How about you?” I wrapped my arms tightly across my chest.

Maya shaded her eyes, rubbing her brow. Maybe she needed time to absorb the information. I spun on my heel and marched back to the house.

Grover let out a yip that positively meant
good riddance
. It took everything I had not to turn around to see Maya’s expression, to gain some insight. But the fear of what I might see kept me moving forward.

“Be careful.” I shouted over my shoulder. “The press pack is right over that ridge.” To emphasize my point, a news helicopter buzzed overhead.

***

Agnes waited for me on the porch. She still wore her apron, and from the looks of it, the crew was making progress on creating a delicious home-cooked meal. She wiped her hands on her apron before pulling me into a hug.

I wished I could cry, really have a meltdown, and feel better. Instead, all of my emotions brimmed under the surface. Carmichaels didn’t cry.

Agnes pulled back, peered into my face, and sighed. “Let me go talk to her.”

Maya had worked her way back to The Cottage, near the veranda, but she was taking a stand by not coming inside. Agnes joined her, and they sat on a rock with Grover at their feet, standing guard.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Ten minutes later, I watched them walk, arm in arm, back to the deck.

“I’m going to make some tea and check on Pat in the kitchen. That boy can cook.” Agnes smiled bashfully and left me alone with Maya.

Maya refused to look in my direction. I took off my sweater and handed it to her. At first she didn’t budge, but after a while, she reluctantly took it. Agnes appeared, saw Maya wearing my sweater, smiled, and handed me a Whitlock sweatshirt. It was massive on me, but comforting. I tipped my head in thanks, and she left us again, without speaking.

Maya slumped into one of the wicker chairs. “What else do you know about me?” she barked, but her tone didn’t have much bite left.

“What do you mean?”

She lifted her head. “You know about my mom. What else did Chuck find?”

Oh, that. Right.

I sat in the chair to her right and tucked my knees to my chest. The temperature was drastically plummeting now that the clouds had dissipated overhead. “Honestly, I don’t know that much. I know you’re intelligent, kind, loving, and you make the best coffee.” I laughed nervously. “I think your favorite color is black.” I paused, not knowing how to continue. “You don’t open up much, Maya. It’s one of the things I admire about you, but it also drives me crazy.”

“You don’t open up much either.” Her smile sagged. “Maybe that’s one of the things I fell for‌—‌a kindred spirit.”

Agnes appeared with two steaming teacups, handing one to each of us before she turned and fled.

Neither of us spoke. I held the cup under my chin for warmth.

“Green.”

I turned to Maya. “What?”

“My favorite color is green.”

A smile forced its way onto my face. “Green. I never would have guessed. You never wear green.”

She shrugged. “It was one of the first things I noticed when we moved here. Everything was so green. Back home, everything was brown. Hopeless and bleak. Here everything always seems alive, even in the dead of winter.”

I nodded my understanding and gave her arm a squeeze.

“I know your favorite book is
Little Women
.”

Maya nodded. “And you like David McCullough,” she said.

The tension started to leave my body. At least she was speaking to me again without looking like she was about to spit in my face.

Ham approached, smiling. “Hi, Maya. I’m Ham.”

Maya shook his hand.

“It’s a pleasure meeting you. Ains has never brought a girl home before.”

Maya smiled awkwardly, which made my brother laugh. “Of course, given the circumstances, you might not be impressed by that. But you should be. I’ve been worried for years about my little sister. I never thought she’d find…” He pointed to Maya to finish his train of thought.

His genuine smile softened Maya’s grimace.

“Would you mind if I borrowed Ainsley for a moment?” he asked.

Maya shook her head. Part of me felt guilty for her “deer in headlights” look; the other part was frustrated. Opening up about Cassidy wasn’t easy, but Maya hadn’t said a word about it. Why?

“You’re welcome to join us.” I placed a hand on her shoulder.

“I should check on Mom,” she said with a weak smile.

“If you change your mind, we’ll be in the office next to the library.” I leveled my eyes on her grays. “You have a say in this if you want.”

Fiona, Mei, and two women I didn’t recognize, sat in folding chairs at a long, makeshift table piled with overstuffed manila folders. On one wall hung the photos from online. While Agnes and Pat prepared a feast for the army, this was how the rest of us dealt with stress‌—‌working our way out of the mess. The office had become the unofficial war room. Operation Save the Carmichael Family had begun.

Pictures of the suspects hung on a wall on the far side of the room. Raymond Eckley’s mug was dead center, next to his wife, and with strings to possible helpers, including Susie Q. I walked to his photo, trying to identify any resemblance to Maya. I traced the outline of his eyes. “They have the same eyes,” I muttered.

“Who?” One of the fixers I hadn’t met yet joined me. Was she Tess or Rita?

I swiveled to Fiona.

“Haven’t said a word,” she said, putting her palms up.

“About what?” asked the other fixer.

I raised my eyebrows at Ham.

“Ains, remember the two women I said you never wanted to meet?”

I nodded. “The ones who have been reading my text messages.”

Ham sniffed, absorbing my indignation. “This”‌—‌he waved to the board‌—‌“has forced all of our hands. Meet Rita George.” He pointed to the reedy woman standing next to me. “And Tess Deaver.” He nodded to the portly woman at the table.

Neither resembled Olivia Pope from
Scandal
in any way, shape, or form. My confidence in them, and in Ham, nearly shattered.

“You can trust them with your life,” Ham continued.

I wavered, deciding whether I had a third option after already burning the grandmother bridge. Not seeing one, I said, “I’m not worried about my life.” That got the room’s attention.

Ham crossed his arms and leaned against the doorjamb. “Maya?” he mumbled, nodding.

My non-answer was the only way to answer.

Mei sucked in a deep breath and said, “Fuck. What are we missing?” Her blurry eyes suggested she, along with Ham and his fixers, had been racking her brain well before the storm unfurled.

“I think we have to fill them in,” Fiona said.

I gritted my teeth but didn’t make an objection.

“Only if everyone promises never to utter a word of this outside of this room.” I locked eyes on everyone, and each gave a succinct nod. Then I filled them in on what I knew.

After I finished, Ham’s face reddened. “You should have called me right away. All of this may have been avoided.” He pounded his hand on the suspect wall.

“Ham!” Fee shouted.

I stabbed my finger in his direction. “I told you about the quotes‌—‌all Edward Gibbon quotes, I might add. That was a clue. Where did those lead?”

He sucked in air. “Once you found out about Maya and Eckley, I should have been your first call. You’re in way over your head.”

“Because you’re the big shot now? Working in the White House qualifies you for the gig?” I mimed whoop-dee-do with my hands.

“Did it ever cross your mind that Eckley could have been sending the quotes?”

“Of course it did, but I dismissed him.”

His eyes widened. “Why?”

“Because I thought a Texan would reference the Alamo.”

He staggered back a step, shaking his head. “You think you’re so clever. At first, you’re sure it’s Susie. Then, you write off Eckley because you think all Texans are rednecks. You need to learn that even though you’re clever, others are better manipulators. God, you’re such a child.” He scoffed.

“I am not!”

“Then stop acting like one,” he roared, taking a step closer and jabbing a finger in my face.

Mei inserted herself between us. “Don’t let him get to you. He’s angry with himself, not you. We sensed something was going to happen, but we never suspected everyone was in the crosshairs.” She flipped around to confront Ham. “You know this isn’t her fault. No one in this room is to blame. Big picture, Ham. Big picture.” She patted his scruffy cheek. “Whoever is responsible wants this. They want us to tear into each other instead of banding together to fight.”

Ham stepped back, massaging his temple. “I’m sorry, Ains. I didn’t mean it.”

“Maybe we should take a moment. To regroup,” Fee suggested.

“No,” I said. “I want to nail whoever did this. This isn’t just about the Carmichaels. It’s also about the people we love.” I ran my finger over Maya’s image on the board.

Ham placed his hand on Mei’s shoulder, his eyes flickering with determination.

Rita fished a close-up of Maya from a pile on the makeshift table. Holding it up to Eckley’s, she said, “They do have the same eyes, but…”

“You need proof?” Ham asked, back in control of his emotions.

“It’d help.” She shrugged.

I turned to Ham. “How much do you want to bet that Grandmother has everyone’s DNA? Always the long game.”

“I’ll work on that.” Ham didn’t bother showing disgust. He knew how she worked‌—‌probably better than I did, considering his own damage-control team. I had so much to learn.