Hi, Senator Hill. You’re no longer useful to my dad but thanks for the nice party?
But an uglier, more insidious thought twisted my insides. My father had used Jerome Hill, just as I’d been his tool. His pawn. Taught to obey. Never make waves. Jack made waves and look where that got him. Cast outside the circle of my dad’s approval.
Now I know why Grant walked out the door.
Outside, the rain came down in buckets, spattering the tall glass windows that overlooked the bay. Just south, the Regatta Gala would be in full swing at the Castle Hill Country Club. Xander would be there, celebrating their win. Maybe I could escape this terrible party and go to him…
Just the thought of being with Xander chased some of the sadness away. But he’d told me what he wanted, and it wasn’t me. He’d torn down our day at the park seven years ago and reduced it to rubble, even if his eyes had told a different story—that he was protecting himself from more hurt, more rejection, by making us into nothing.
“He can’t do that,” I murmured, still standing alone at the window. “We’re entangled.”
A commotion erupted at one of the TVs, and a man hushed the crowd. “This is it,” he said, and everyone quieted to listen to the cable news host.
“CNN is now making the call: in a stunning upset, Rhode Island’s incumbent Senator Jerome Hill has lost his bid for reelection to media mogul and billionaire Charles Harrington. Analysts point to Harrington’s aggressive media campaign and widespread financial backing as key factors to his success…”
The atmosphere in the room deflated, then a round of applause went up for Senator Hill, and toasts were made to soften the blow of defeat.
It was over. I was officially free. Now my little defiance didn’t mean anything. It wasn’t even mine anymore.
Anger flared, burning away some of the fear that had lived in me since I was a kid—the constant stress of trying to please my dad and the terror of what would happen when I didn’t. I set my water glass down and headed for the coat check. I’d just put on my black peacoat when Tucker found me.
“Babe, there you are.” His eyes were shadowed and glassy.
“I’m going home.”
“I’ll give you a ride.”
“No, I’m calling an Uber.”
“What? Why?”
“Why?” I spat, incredulous. “Can no one hear me when I speak? Do I have any voice at all?”
“What the hell are you talking about? I hear you just fine—”
“Tucker,we are not together anymore.”
His expression hardened. “Because my dad lost, right? He’s no longer useful to Grayson, so fuckity-bye-bye, is that it?”
“I’m sorry about the election, but I told you on Halloween night that we were over.”
He exhaled through his nose and ran a hand through his blond hair. “Look, Em. It’s been a crappy night. Just let me take you home and we can talk shit out, or whatever. Please?”
I bit my lip. My dad used me, but he’d used Tucker too. And now Tucker’s dad had lost his job. “Fine. But straight home.”
I waited in the lobby of the Regency, sheltered from the pouring rain, while Tucker fetched his truck and picked me up. He pulled onto the road, and a minute later, withdrew a flask from inside his blazer pocket.
“Tucker, it’s a fucking hurricane out there. You shouldn’t be drinking. You shouldn’t ever be drinking and driving, but especially—”
“Like it matters,” he said. “The cops will give me a pass for one more night before word gets out that I’m not the son of a senator anymore.”
“You’re a lot more than that, Tucker. Nobody is only one thing,” Isaid, my heart aching to repeat Xander’s words. “But you need to stop driving. It’s too dangerous.”
Tucker ignored me, taking a long pull from his flask as he drove into the black night with rain coming down so hard, the windshield wipers could barely keep up. Soon, I’d lost all sense of where we were.
“Tucker, stop the truck. You’re scaring me.”
“You want me to stop the truck? Sure, no problem.”
