The Winner Takes It All (A Something New Novel) (25 page)

She sputtered. “That’s different!”

“How?”

“It just is.”

“Because you don’t like it,” he stated matter-of-factly.

She contemplated ways to torture him, including shoving bamboo shoots under his fingernails. “I’ve never had sex with Miles. I’ve never even kissed him.”

He frowned at her. “I’m not having sex with Harper.”

“But you did.” She desperately wanted to stop talking to give herself a chance to calm down, but she couldn’t seem to get her mouth under control.

“I dated her for a year.”

She let out a scream. “This isn’t the same thing.”

“I know. I’m not the one getting married.”

“That doesn’t mean anything!”

He jerked the car to the side of the road, coming to a screeching halt, then gave her a hard-eyed look. “Then why the
fuck
are you doing it?”

She gulped, and wished she’d kept her mouth shut.

It was underhanded. Shane knew that and didn’t care. One of the things he’d learned about Cecilia was that she was stubborn as hell.

He raised a brow, putting his hand on the back of her seat. “Well? Why?”

Her expression flashed with emotion: anger, jealousy, fear. “You know I have to.”

“Why do you have to?” He hadn’t pushed before but intended to now.

“Stop trying to change the subject,” she yelled, her voice going squeaky.

“This is the subject, Cecilia.”

“I don’t want you to go with her.” She sniffed, her chin tilting with that telltale defiance.

“Well, I don’t want you to go with him, but what we want and what’s happening isn’t the same thing.”

Her lashes lifted and her eyes were more gray than blue. “Are you doing this on purpose? To make me jealous?”

One of the things he liked best about Cecilia was he didn’t have to pull any punches, and he didn’t soften the blow. “Of course.”

She blinked. “Why would you do that?”

He trailed a finger down her smooth cheek. “I could have canceled, but I didn’t intend to be the only jealous party here.”

“You don’t even seem like you care.”

“I care,” he said, his voice softening considerably. “More than I should. More than I can help. But I know I can’t talk you out of it. Even though I think it’s the stupidest harebrained scheme I’ve ever heard.”

“You don’t understand how it is.”

God, she was stubborn. He asked the one question she’d yet to answer regardless of how many times he’d prompted. “Why do you want to run for congress?”

“Because it’s what I’ve always wanted.” Parroting the same line of crap she kept giving him.

“Don’t you see, Cecilia,” he said, stroking down her neck, “that’s not a good enough reason.”

Twin lines formed over her brows. “What are you trying to say?”

He sighed. “Once I had lunch with a candidate for alderman and I asked her that same question. She talked about changes she wanted to make in the schools, greenhouse gasses, bringing government back to the people, getting her community involved. She was so passionate. She couldn’t stop talking about all the things she wanted to accomplish. I didn’t say more than five words the whole meal.”

Cecilia’s shoulders had gone stiff. That remote expression slid over her face, keeping everything hidden. “You don’t think I can do that?”

He looked her dead in the eyes, hoping she understood his distinction. “I absolutely believe you can do that. Hell, Cecilia, you’ve won the respect and loyalty of every single person in that overcrowded farmhouse in less than a week. If you can do that, you can sway voters.”

Her chin shot up another notch. “Not my mother. She’s barely talking to me.”

“That’s your own fault.”

“How can you say that?”

“She’s your mom; she knows you’re making a mistake. It’s killing her.”

She opened her mouth but he held up a hand. “Let me make my point before we start talking about your family, which, let’s be honest, will take the rest of the drive.”

She huffed, crossing her arms. “What’s your point?”

“I’m not saying you
can’t
, I’m saying you don’t want to.”

She pressed her body against the window. “You’re wrong.”

He shook his head. “I’m not. I’ve never seen anybody less excited about fulfilling their lifelong dream.”

“That’s not true,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m just taking a break. To rejuvenate.”

Stubborn. He’d planted the seed, now he just had to see if it grew, or if she threw it out with the rest of the weeds. “Whatever you say, Cecilia.”

He straightened in his seat, checked his side-view mirror, and when the coast was clear pulled out onto the highway. The car was silent, save the purr of the engine and blast of the air conditioner Cecilia seemed to keep at arctic levels.

Five minutes passed before she huffed, “What kind of a name is Harper Holt?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “I’m sure if you get to know her, you’ll like her.”

“Not in a million years,” Cecilia said, her tone wry. She sniffed. “But I suppose you made your point.”

He took her hand and brought her fingers to his lips. “If it makes you feel better, like you, I really did have these plans in place before we . . .” He winked at her. “You know, whatever this is.”

She stared at him wide-eyed. “How is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“It wasn’t completely out of spite.”

She started fidgeting in the bucket seat again, all that nervous energy twisting away inside. “Why did the two of you break up?”

“We were better as friends. We both grew up in working-class families on the South Side. Because of that we tend to find the same things insufferable, so when we don’t have dates we help each other out.”

“And that’s it?”

He knew what she was really asking but was too proud to admit, and he put her out of her misery. “I’m not going to lay a finger on her if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“You’re not?”

“Nope.” He shot her a menacing glance. “Just like Miles isn’t going to lay a finger on you.”

She looked at him like he’d suggested she jump off the George Washington Bridge. “Of course not.”

He shook his head. Didn’t she see how wrong it was to marry someone she couldn’t even stand the thought of touching? Frustration gnawed inside him. He wanted to pound some sense into her, but he couldn’t. She had to figure this out on her own. He wasn’t going to be the one to talk her out of it. “Then we understand each other.”

She nodded.

He squeezed her fingers. “I want you to do something for me.”

“What?”

“Saturday, I have to visit my aunt and I want you to come with me.”

“You want me to go with you?”

“Yes, I do.”

She scooted over and put her head on his shoulder. “Okay.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Good girl.”

She elbowed him in the ribs but she laughed. “You’re impossible.”

They fell into a comfortable silence that passed for five miles before she sighed.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“You know, I do realize how fucked up this is.”

He squeezed her thigh. “Just as long as you know.”

Shane had dropped her at home, leaving her alone to stew in her own restlessness before that evening’s benefit. He’d had errands to do, a meeting with the mayor, and things to catch up on now that he was back in town. After a mind-blowing kiss that’d had her plastered against the wall and breathless, he’d turned on his heels and left. Now she wandered around the house, which seemed empty and cold, and didn’t have the slightest idea what to do with herself.

Shane’s words kept playing in her brain over and over, like a broken record.

He was right.

Ever since she was six, all she’d had was the single-minded goal of running for office. It was the one driving pursuit that had kept her fed and moving forward when things got tough.

When she got lonely.

But all this time she’d never stopped to ask the real question: Why? She’d studied great politicians her whole life and they had passion and conviction in common. Where was hers?

What did she want to accomplish besides checking it off her lifelong to-do list? Her mind was blank.

She blew out a frustrated breath. She’d like to blame the trip to Revival and Shane, but that wasn’t the truth.

Why hadn’t she asked about Miles’s motivation? What was in it for him?

Well, there was only one way to find out. She picked up the phone and scrolled through one of the many missed calls until she found Miles’s number.

It rang three times before he answered with his customary clipped hello.

She wanted to throw up at the sound of his voice but made sure her tone was modulated and controlled. “Hello, Miles.”

“Cecilia, darling, so glad you called.” There wasn’t even a trace of agitation that she’d been avoiding him.

“How are you, Miles?” she asked, all of her defense mechanisms kicking into high gear. And she could feel it, her old, regular self slipping over her.

“Very well, dear.”

She tried to picture him. His dark hair was touched with gray. His brown eyes were sharp with intelligence and his face handsome enough. But she had no sense of
him
. She was supposed to marry this man. They were supposed to live in the same house and share a life and she didn’t even know his birthday or his favorite color. She frowned. They were strangers.

And he seemed as content as she to keep it that way. “Have you gotten my messages?” he inquired, his tone all business.

“I’m sorry I haven’t returned your calls. With the wedding, things have been hectic.”

“I understand.”

Who was this man? And what did he want from her? Because men like him always wanted something. She propped her hip against the counter, putting her palm on the cool, untouched marble surface. “Miles, why are you marrying me?”

There was a pause over the line before he answered. “We all know you’ll do better in your campaign if you’re married.”

Her bullshit radar pinged, loud and clear. She narrowed her eyes. “No, why are
you
marrying
me
?”

“A relationship with your family will prove valuable for my business.” It was smooth. One of those practiced evasions they were all so good at.

“How so?”

More silence. She watched the digital clock tick by.

Finally, he sighed. “Your father is on various energy committees that will potentially impact my business. It’s in my best interest to keep him as an ally.”

“And you have to marry me to do that?” It sounded good but didn’t quite add up.

He laughed, one of those polite business laughs, nothing like the boisterous sounds Shane made. It barely touched Miles’s lips, let alone his belly. “I have no interest in regular women. My first love will always be my company. Now, if we can move on to the business of this evening, I do have a meeting I’m running late to.”

How was she not a “regular” woman? she wanted to ask, but was smart enough to know the conversation was over. At least for Miles. She, on the other hand, intended to do more digging. A tiny thrill shot through her, the way it always did when she had a puzzle in front of her that needed to be unraveled. It was one of her favorite parts of her job. “Yes, this evening.”

“I’ll come fetch you at seven.”

What, was she a dog? “Very well,” she said, her voice calm and collected. “I’ll see you then.”

“Make sure you look your best, darling. People are watching.”

She wondered what he’d say if she gave him a nice little “fuck you,” but instead forced a smile on her lips. “I am my father’s daughter.”

“Yes, you are.” Tone way too pleased, he disconnected.

Cecilia didn’t like it one bit. They were up to something and, boy, hadn’t she made it easy for them?

As soon as she hung up she called her father.

He answered on the second ring and said in a hushed, angry voice, “Where have you been?”

“In Revival,” she said, her tone holding a distinct chill. “Where you sent me.”

“One second.” All background noise ceased and she knew he’d put her on mute. She waited a full minute before he came back on the line. “What exactly has gotten into you? Do you know how many times we’ve called you?”

She ignored the question. “What is Miles Fletcher getting out of marrying me?”

“What?” His voice rose and she envisioned the florid flush on his face. “We are in crisis here. Your mother is threatening to file for divorce. We need you here to help deal with the fallout before it hits the paper.”

She straightened, steeling her spine and squaring her shoulders. “No. Answer my question.”

“What the hell does it matter? He’s going to get the job done and help you on your little campaign. Be thankful and focus on the real issue here.”

She wrenched back as though he’d slapped her. The truth hit her in the face and stung. He was humoring her.

She narrowed her gaze. “I suppose the real question is, what are you getting out of this?”

“Cecilia,” he said, his voice tinged with the edge of panic, “listen to me. Your mother wants to divorce me. How are you going to help fix this?”

Incredulous, she shook her head. “Fix it yourself.”

She hung up.

She turned to stare out the window, ignoring the ringing phone. What exactly were they up to? Oh, she believed Nathaniel was in a panic and needed her aid. After all, getting him out of scrapes was what she did best. But that didn’t negate the fact that she was right. Miles and the senator were getting something out of their unholy union that had nothing to do with her bid for congress. That was just a happy coincidence.

Now it was only a matter of finding out the truth.

Chapter Eighteen

Shane kept his eyes glued to the long, red carpet laid at the entryway of the Field Museum, waiting for his first glimpse of Cecilia, and virtually ignored his date.

Harper elbowed him in the ribs. “All right, what gives?”

He jerked his gaze away. “Huh?”

“You’ve been acting strange since we got here. What’s going on?” Harper looked as stunning as ever in a floor-length, strapless dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. Her blond hair was piled on top of her head, highlighting the slim curve of her neck and high cheekbones. She looked lovely, and normally he enjoyed her company, but all he could think about was Cecilia.