“After we completed the plans, she asked me out for a drink. That drink was followed by a few dinners and two professional functions where she stood in as my date. In April she broke up with me, ironically, via text message.”
“Hopefully not while driving,” Mimi quipped.
“To be honest, I wasn’t aware we were officially dating. I didn’t think we were serious enough to ‘break up.’”
“But you were serious enough to sleep with her.”
“Were you sleeping with Gerard?”
They watched each other in a silent standoff before Mimi looked away. “I guess it’s hard to find the person you want to spend forever with.”
Hard to find them, or hard to hold on to them?
She laid her head back onto her hand. A few beats passed while he listened to her breathe, feeling protective of her—responsible for her.
“If my reelection campaign takes a turn and the spotlight finds you...” With the arm already wrapped around her, he gave her a gentle squeeze. “I won’t let it touch you.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“I can promise if it does touch you, I’ll do everything in my power to extract you from the conversation. You don’t deserve any of this. Hell, that was the main reason...” He fell silent, opting not to finish the thought he’d started.
“That was the main reason for what?” She lifted her head, the dent between her eyebrows warning him to tell her the truth or face her wrath.
“Like back then, I’d never ask you to be a part of my world now. To sacrifice what you believe in, what you love, to stand at the side of a man who’s an oil tycoon first and a politician second.” He let out a dry chuckle. “That must sound like your worst nightmare.”
Correction: that wasn’t irritation on her face. Mimi was pissed.
“First off, Chase Ferguson—” she punctuated each word by stabbing his breastbone while her eyes drilled into him “—you are a man with a heart and soul. A good man, your choice in women notwithstanding.” A dig he let her have since she was right. Women always wanted something he wasn’t willing to give, or were only there for the arm candy he provided. While he found neither of those situations objectionable, they didn’t add up to a very flattering relationship record.
“Secondly,” she continued, not through defending his honor, “you’re a businessman and a politician. A damn good one if what I uncovered online can be believed.”
“Uncovered? What did you uncover?”
Her face pinked as her gaze bounced around the room—landing everywhere but on him. He’d bet his bank account she hadn’t meant to say that last part. He physically turned her chin and forced her guilty, dark eyes back on him.
“Mimi Andrix, did you Google me?”
“When I received that letter out of the blue—that impersonal letter—I was curious. I vowed not to go further than the city’s website, but I clicked through a few of those search pages and...”
Her cheeks burned red.
“And?” He prompted.
She licked her lips before admitting, “I found an interesting website.”
* * *
The heat of embarrassment burned Miriam’s face. Admitting she’d dug up information on Chase like a besotted highschooler was humiliating.
“A website about me?” he asked, clearly bemused.
“Yes.”
“What was on it?” He mashed a decorative pillow under his neck to hold his head up so he could properly interrogate her. “Were there photos?”
“Yes, egomaniac. And...stories.”
“Stories?” One eyebrow arched high on his forehead.