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She pointed toward the entrance and the spectacle gathered out there. “I was heading out for a coffee. Now I’m reconsidering.”

“I don’t blame you,” Aiden said, sounding sympathetic. “Surprised to see so many out there again. There was no one this morning.”

“Me too.” She couldn’t for the life of her figure out why they’d returned. “I guess the break room coffee will have to do.”

Aiden grimaced. “Hope it’s better than what the machine in our break room spits out.”

“Probably not,” Jen admitted as she readjusted the straps of her purse. “But drinking it beats dealing with that.” She pointed toward the doors. “Have a nice afternoon, Aiden.”

***

Brett had started his day by meeting with the League of Women’s Clubs of Massachusetts. One of the largest and oldest women's volunteer service organizations in the country, the group was involved in everything from supporting the preservation of natural resources to stressing civic involvement. Despite its lengthy and distinguished past, he’d never heard of the group until earlier this month. From there he’d driven clear across the state to Pittsfield. The event there had ended ten minutes ago, and he had nothing else on his agenda until tomorrow afternoon.

With a double-chocolate glazed donut and large iced coffee in hand, Brett opened his car door and got behind the wheel. Before he could enjoy a sip of the caffeinated beverage he needed desperately, his cell phone chimed. Brett tossed the bag with his sugary treat on the seat, took a sip of his drink, and pulled out the annoying device.

We’ve got a situation the text from Carl read.

Carl had sent him a similar text when the pictures of him and Jen first hit the papers. The man stressed about any unanticipated occurrence.

The phone chimed again before Brett responded.

Where are you? We need to meet NOW, Carl’s next message stated.

At least two hours away. Not even on the Mass Pike yet.

Get to my office ASAP.

Carl never demanded. He suggested and sometimes tried to persuade, but he never flat-out made demands. The fact he was doing it this afternoon made Brett uneasy.

Brett started the car. Of course on the day a potential crisis struck he had to be on the opposite side of the friggin’ state.

Be there as soon as I can. He didn’t wait for another message. Tossing the cell phone on the passenger seat, he drove out of the parking lot.

Thirty minutes later, the music playing stopped and instead the sound of his phone ringing replaced it. The car’s touch screen revealed the call was from his dad. First Carl, and now Dad. It couldn’t be a coincidence. A crisis was brewing, or at least something they both viewed as a crisis.

Sending up a little thanks to whoever developed hands-free technology, Brett pressed the talk icon.

“Did you know?” Dad asked without returning Brett’s hello.

“Know what?”

“How can you ask me that? It was the breaking news story on every station this afternoon.”

Had his lead over Ted Smith taken a nosedive? Was that the major situation Carl needed to see him about? “I haven’t been near a television all day. But I’m on my way to Carl’s office. Whatever the problem, we’ll develop a plan to handle it.”

Carl was one of the best in the business. Brett had full confidence in him as well as the rest of the campaign team he’d hired. The situation would be resolved, and his campaign would move forward.

Silence came through the car’s speakers. The lack of a response caused the unease from earlier to return.

“You really don’t know.” Dad’s words were a clear statement. “Damn it.”

Dad went out of his way not

to swear. If he’d reverted to it now, the situation had nothing to do with the poll numbers.

“When you told me you’d known Jen for two years, I assumed you knew everything about her. Knew whether or not she was the kind of woman a United States Senator should be involved with.”

“What the hell is going on?” Brett demanded.


Tags: Christina Tetreault Billionaire Romance