“Yes, Captain Du Pont.”
“She’s to be escorted alone. I can’t make that clear enough.”
As soon as I see Ricky and Kyle flank Addison and guide her along the edge of the building, I swipe the line of perspiration off my lip and turn from the window. My head is pounding, my steps laden with cement as I follow the woman downstairs and out the back hallway where a team of security forms around me, moving me toward the stage as a unit. I don’t hear the cheering, but I know it’s happening, because I can see hands clapping, mouths moving. Nothing can break through the ringing in my ears, though, and it builds louder and louder, the closer I come to the stage.
There she is. Addison stands beside where my parents sit, at least until someone scurries over with a chair. She drops into it, wide-eyed, hands clasped tightly in her lap…but all I can see are the high heels. It seems as if years have passed since she told me the stilettos are worn to meet men. It’s the last memory I need right now. Climbing the stairs to the stage, her gaze locks with mine and I’m choked with need. Need to kiss her. Need to shout at her. Need, need, need. Colossal, undeniable need to consume myself with her. To get in her face and demand an explanation, just so I can tell her it isn’t good enough.
Even as I force my mind back to the present and wave to the crowd, jealousy is still breathing fire in my throat. I can smell her. I can taste her in the back of my throat. I’m not even one percent rational and I don’t care. I’m at Point A and getting my hands on Addison to fuck those shoes right off her feet is Point B.
We can still see other people.
Didn’t she try to make that one of our conditions for dating?
With my hand pressed to the Bible, I almost slur the words I’m repeating into the microphone, the added outrage is so sharp. The answer to her condition is still no. It will be no until the end of time, and as soon as we get off this stage, I’m going to make sure she understands that. Out of the corner of my eye, I sense her watching me closely, holding her breath. Anxiety radiates from her…and I don’t like that. It breeds the same in me. A desire to soothe and reassure. But my head is too crowded with anger to allow sympathy.
The ceremony isn’t long. When it concludes, I shake my father’s hand and kiss my mother on the cheek. I do the same to Addison, some of the ice thawing in my middle when she curls a hand in my suit jacket, holding me close for an extra second. Letting her lips linger against my cheek. But I can’t meet her eyes. I can’t do it yet or I’ll drag her off this stage.
I approach the microphone and stare at it like a foreign object, willing the words of my speech to come somehow, but they don’t and I have no choice but to improvise. “Good morning. Thank you for coming,” I say, my voice seeming to carry like a shotgun blast across the entire city. And it’s amazing—amazing—that as riddled with madness as I am, I still gather strength from where Addison stands at my back. “I’m honored today to replace a man who has served this city most of his life, and done it with hard work, dedication and above all, loyalty. A man I’m grateful to call my father.” Applause carries for long moments. “I will bring those same values to this office. Some of you will be disappointed to hear I’m going to do things differently, however.” Silence stretches, cameras flash. “The results will change your mind.”
Minutes later, my speech is complete and we leave the stage to a roar that matches the one in my head. People shout my name and hold out their hands. I shake them, I smile, I pose for selfies. It’s like an out-of-body experience, when all I want is clarity. To be free of the claws that are digging into my jugular. Having received a detailed schedule of the day’s events, I know security is leading us to the private function room below the first floor of City Hall to an invitation-only party. The first of many that will last clear through until tomorrow. On my best day, parties seem tedious, but right now they sound like torture.
My parents, Addison, myself and the security team finally clear the back entrance of City Hall—the closing doors cutting off the cheers—and I waste no time taking Addison’s wrist. “We need to talk.”
“Yes, we do,” she bites off, surprising me. “Lead the way.”