“I’ll stay.”
I nod. “Thank you.”
“You’re not weak. Nothing he says can break you. Remember that.” He places my right hand in his, and I revel at the comforting contact only he seems to provide.
I release the breath that was caught deep in my chest, pick up my phone with my free hand, and answer.
“Damien, hi.”
Silence greets me for a moment before a dry chuckle vibrates through the phone. “Daisy Stonehaven, as she lives and breathes.”
I feel Luke’s hand tense in mine, so I know that he can hear Damien even though the phone is pressed against my ear.
I clear my head and focus on my main priority. Apologizing and moving on. “Damien, look. I’m sorry for how—”
“Save the apology for the cameras, Daisy. You were supposed to be here yesterday. I had a crew waiting on standby for our first sit-down interview after our wedding made national news.” The sound of him loudly crunching on something, probably pistachios, makes me think I’m mishearing him, because he’s not making sense. “Thank you for the bump in the polls, by the way. The picture of me looking like a heartbroken jilted groom has done wonders for the female demographic between the ages of thirty-five and fifty-five.”
My face scrunches up in confusion. “What are you talking about? Cameras? Did—did you not see the note I left on the mirror?” Oh God, does he still think—
He snorts. “Ah yes, we all saw your little arts and crafts presentation. But I’ll have to ask that you keep the theatrics to acting when the interviewer asks about why you got overwhelmed about the grand production of our wedding. And don’t forget to mention that you also asked me to consider a more intimate affair the morning of the wedding. We need to make it clear that you never set foot into the church, and since no one saw you in your big white dress, it shouldn’t be a hard sell. We need my male voters to not see me as weak, so you’ll clarify that you didn’t technically leave me at the altar. Instead, you were waiting for me at home to have a private service first, followed by the big party.” I’m stunned by his words, only able to hear the beehive of activity around him. He must be surrounded by his entire campaign team.
“I don’t—I don’t understand, Damien. I broke up with you. I’m sorry for the shitty way of doing it, I truly hope you know that, but I—we’re not—”
“Oh, but we are.” His voice whips out in a sinister tone. “Because I’m taking over as your handler in regard to you and your media responsibilities. Your father promised he had it all under control, but clearly, he’s done a shit job of it, and the gamble is too big at this stage in the game to have another fuck-up. We can finish this conversation in person. I’ll have a car sent for you if I must. But I truly don’t have the time to hold your hand through all the details. That’s what my assistant is for.” He pauses before humming in delight. “That and fucking me, of course.” He chuckles when I gasp. “I assumed your father told you about our little arrangement, but I’m guessing he fell short in performing that task as well?”
The phone nearly slips out of my hand. I feel as though a tight fist has wrapped around my heart.
My father? A handler? His assistant?
But then every moment of our relationship starts to flash before my eyes. How he always flipped his phone over while having dinner with me or flat-out denied me access to it when I wanted to download a podcast I thought he’d enjoy.
The sudden change of plans, the unexplained extended nights away…
I guess the clues were all there, if I had only dared to look close enough.
I now understand that me running from my wedding wasn’t a rash decision but rather me finally listening to my intuition. It’s one thing to know something is wrong, but when your blinders are up so high, it becomes easier to ignore them… until you can’t.
I’m frozen in place. All I can feel is Luke’s shaky hand in mine.
When I look down, his shoulders are almost to his ears, and it seems like his entire body is brimming with rage. He’s looking at the ground, but I can only imagine the look on his face.
He draws circles on my hand with his thumb, but even that motion is erratic, as if it’s taking too much concentration to focus on that small act and not my disaster of a phone call.
I know it’s going to take more than a moment to unravel everything Damien has so callously revealed to me. But I need to walk away from this conversation knowing that I’ve said all that I’ve needed to while also giving him a piece of my mind.
“I don’t know why you’re telling me this. I know you’re upset, and you have every right to be, but honestly, are you fucking kidding me right now?”
Luke’s head snaps up at my change in tone.
I’m no longer feeling guilty, sad, or remorseful.
I’m fucking incensed.
“I have no clue what you and my father have conspired behind my back, but that is now none of my concern and I am none of yours. Therefore, I won’t be needing that car you sochivalrouslyoffered and I won’t be crying crocodile tears for votes. So you can ignore the little doodle I drew on that mirror and takethisconversation as the official ending of our fucked-up engagement. Oh, and while I’m at it, fuck you too.” I raise my voice.
I’m about to hang up when I hear his stupid laugh over the phone.
“My, my, so she does have a backbone,” he all but purrs. “Had I known you had this ruthless side to you, I might have considered fucking that attitude out of you after all. I wouldn’t even have minded the little extra meat on your bones, might be a nice change from all the coked-out models I tend to prefer.” My grip on the phone tightens. “But while this verbal foreplay is getting me hard, I really do need you back within the hour, because even though I wouldn’t mind fucking you now, I’m still not going to risk losing the Latino vote that you’ve all but handed to me on a silver platter,mi amor.”
