I shift in my seat, wishing we were talking about someone else’s life. I try not to regret anything I’ve done with anyone. It’s been an adventure. It’s helped me along the way. But with Ryder next to me, a sliver of shame shivers through me. I want this all to go away neatly and quickly.
His fingers press against the back of my neck, harder now, as if he knows my level of discomfort is rising. Time is counting down and we’re still nowhere close to finding out who is doing this and why. That video needs to stay hidden.
“But don’t worry,” Alex interjects; obviously my face is showing a lot today since she’s clearly reading my panic. “I’m still looking for the hacker.”
“Any new developments on that front?” Ryder asks, cool and collected, as he sips his coffee.
“All I’ve discovered so far is it’s a local hacker,” she explains, “but it’s no one I know personally.”
“That’s a start,” Ryder says, resting his mug on his thigh. “How close are you to narrowing down his location?”
She gives a tight smile. “Closer than yesterday.”
I snort, needing way more than that. “Okay, but what exactly does that mean? Like, you know for sure you’ll find this person by the end of the day?”
“It means that I’m closer than I was yesterday to finding out who it is,” she repeats, and once again gives a small shrug. “Believe me, once I know the location, Ryder will be there and that video will be in his hands.”
I sigh away the remainder of my questions, trying to trust her but finding it hard nonetheless. Ryder begins to stroke my nape again, and I sigh once more, staying here in the present, not letting me get too far ahead of myself. “So, all of that not so terrible news seemed pretty terrible, except for confirming the identification of the congressman. Do I even want to know what the terrible news is?”
“Oh, sure you do, because it’s not terrible for you.” Alex smiles, gesturing at Ryder with a flick of her chin. “It’s totally terrible news for him.”
His eyes slowly begin to narrow. “Oh, really, and why is that?”
With her smile planted firmly on her face, Alex’s fingers fly across the keyboard. “After some digging this morning, I’ve learned that the congressman will be at the Big Dream Foundation Sunday Afternoon Gala this afternoon, so I’ve got you both onto the approved list of guests.” She turns the laptop around to face us to prove her point.
“What am I missing here?” I ask, looking at the guest list. “Why is this such terrible news?”
“Because…” Alex says. The amusement in her voice lifts my head and I find her eyes just as amused. “Do you know what Ryder hates more than dirty politicians?”
“What?”
“Wearing a tux,” he mutters at me before he gestures at the laptop’s monitor. “Why are you suggesting we meet him there?”
Alex closes her laptop, placing her hands on top, giving a big, glorious smile. “Because do you know who else will be there?”
“Who?”
“The congressman’s wife.”
Chapter 10
Ryder
Later that afternoon, Hadley and I enter the annual Big Dream Foundation Sunday Afternoon Gala through the main doors of the hotel, her arm tucked tightly into mine. I’m finding it harder and harder to focus with her so close. That damn flowery perfume seems to be invading my senses with every step I take. The only reason I haven’t curbed the hunger that’s simmering just below the surface is because this lead is one that can’t wait.
Soon, I’ll be able to slide that stunning red lace dress off her body, kiss my way along her spine, which is exposed with this gown, tangle those big waves of her hair in my hands, and watch her dark makeup slide down her face with the tears of pleasure.
We round the corner and enter the ballroom, and the stench of wealth practically flows within the grand space. Diamonds surround every neck and sparkle off every pair of ears, hands, and wrists. Luxurious fabrics drape over women who look a step away from a walk down the red carpet at the Academy Awards. Even the children attending the event look better dressed than me.
“These events have never made sense to me,” says Hadley, as we make our way through the crowd.
I glance down and find her focus is on the people we’re walking by. “Why?”
“People spend a lot of money to come to these events.” She gives me a quick look and half shrugs. “But if they donated what they paid on their hair and makeup and dresses, wouldn’t the charity make more money?”
I nod and smile, loving the way she thinks. “But everyone likes a good party.”
“Not you,” she says, watching me closely.