Shelly’s gaze flickers as she sees something beyond me, and the tears and trembling vanish. The spot between my shoulder blades prickles, and not in a good way. It’s the same sensation that small animals must get when they sense a predator behind them.
“Hello, Warren. I was just talking with some friends.” She smiles, but cold shivers run through me.
David and I turn around. I suck in a lungful of air.
Hips swaying, Shelly walks over to the familiar face of Warren Theodore Fordham the Fourth. He hasn’t changed at all—the same dark, neatly cropped hair and square jaw ending in a heroically cleft chin. His body is trim and fit. He knows looking healthy and slim is important to his image. He aspires to be like JFK, minus the assassination part.
Shelly lays a hand on his shoulder like she’s done it a thousand times before. “Warren,” she says. “Meet David Darling and…Erin. Everyone, this is Warren Fordham the Fourth. He’s a newly elected member of the U.S. House of Representatives and my new friend.”
I stare, willing this farcical dream to end. Dad called just this morning to tell me to marry Warren like he wanted two years ago, and now Warren magically pops back into my life? And in California, of all places? Did Dad send him here?
But…no. Warren couldn’t have known that I’d be at this event. This just isn’t my scene. His father was a state senator, but my dad is just a mayor, and my family isn’t wealthy enough to be invited to a social function like this. Besides, I wasn’t even supposed to be here.
Warren smiles. As his thin lips stretch into a curve, revealing straight white teeth, his brown eyes crinkle in that open, friendly way. I never cared for his smile much. And I came to like it even less when I saw him smile like that and still backstab somebody.
And I hate it that I can’t tell if he’s going to behave himself or gut me. Having grown up in Saintsville, he’s aware of every bit of ugly gossip and speculation about me and my mom.
“Thanks for the introduction,” Warren says. “But I actually know these two very well.”
Of course he knows me, but David…?
But then, David’s family is from Virginia too. And wealthy as well. Warren’s dad probably knows them, maybe even tried to get them to support him before.
“Hi, Erin,” Warren says with a smile that would delight any would-be voters. “Long time, no see.”
“Hello, Warren.” I don’t know what else to say.
“I missed you.”
It takes a lot of willpower to hide a shudder of revulsion. I’d be much happier if I never ran into Warren again. But I keep that to myself because I don’t want him sharing my sharp words with Dad. I don’t need my father calling and leaving thousands of messages, bristling with displeasure and endlessly reminding me of my doomed future.
Warren directs a smile reserved for a long-lost friend to my boss. “And David! I didn’t realize you were in California.”
“I didn’t realize you’d be here, either, considering you’re a Virginia politician,” David says.
“Well…” Warren’s smile doesn’t falter. But then, he’s never flustered or unsure. He likes to project what he calls “a winning attitude” because that’s what voters want to see. “While I represent the interests of the people of Virginia, I also represent the interests of our great country. Therefore, it’s prudent to travel around and meet people outside of my state.”
David nods while pulling me closer, the gesture excessively possessive.
And I let him—with relief. Hopefully Warren will tell Dad about it, and Dad will realize I wasn’t kidding about having a boyfriend. With any luck, it might even be enough to get Dad off my back about this marrying Warren stuff.
The skin around Warren’s eyes tightens, forming little lines. He always does that when he’s annoyed. But it’s his problem. I’ve never given him the impression that I wanted him back. As a matter of fact, I haven’t even contacted him after leaving Saintsville two years ago. If Dad’s been feeding him bad information about my intentions… Well, Warren should take it up with him.
“But I must admit that my heart will always be in Virginia. My roots are in the state. Erin’s are, too. We practically grew up together,” Warren says.
I want to tell him that he’s wrong. But if I do, I’ll be getting into an argument. I don’t think the love of David’s life is argumentative, especially with an ex-boyfriend, so I keep my mouth shut. Hopefully Warren will take my silence as sheer lack of interest and go off to soak in the admiration of his fawners instead.
“Remember when you, me and Katrina hung out together in my parents’ house?” Warren asks.
“Yes.” And it hurt like hell to realize that the friendship between me and Katrina wasn’t as genuine as I thought.
Warren looks at me encouragingly, but I don’t expand on the answer, even though the “yes” was curt. He’s a politician. He should be able to figure out that I’m not interested in pursuing this line of conversation.
But he persists. He brings up more memories, small events that only the people who were there would know about. It’s obvious he’s doing it to emphasize the fact that David wasn’t part of my past, unlike Warren. Since he’s mentioning things that actually happened—and I do remember them—I’m sort of obligated to answer “yes”…but I don’t offer anything else.
It still doesn’t stop him. He keeps going, finally getting to a couple of silly pranks that mutual friends played in high school.
I wish I could just punch him and shut him up. I don’t want David to know anything about my past. I don’t want anyone to know anything about me.