“Aww. Thanks.” Isabelle blew him a kiss and Gabe scowled.
All in all, a typical family gathering.
Soon Lucy and Gabe began talking about their newest project, and Isabelle was flipping through baby books. Decklan grabbed the opportunity to change the channel. He started scanning slowly, pausing on a local station that was discussing a political fund-raiser taking place in the city.
A female reporter stood outside The Plaza Hotel in Manhattan. “And Senator Stephan Ritter is about to make an announcement.”
The senator was well known because over the last few months, the news media was gearing up for the presidential race with constant mentions of possible candidates. Decklan knew of the man and his ultraconservative views but didn’t follow the news on the next president too closely yet. He would when the candidates were narrowed.
“Think the guy will run for president?” Gabe asked.
Decklan glanced at the screen. “That’s what the pundits are saying.
“Oh, look. Here he comes,” Lucy said.
The senator stepped up to a podium. He rambled a bit, and Decklan’s eyes glazed over at the words. But he kept an eye on the screen, watching as the camera panned the audience for their reaction to his statement before returning and remaining focused on the silver-haired man.
“And with the blessing of my family, my wonderful, wife, Stephanie—” The camera captured his wife by his side. “My son, Bradley, and my soon-to-be daughter-in-law, Amanda Collins, along with my campaign manager, Mitchell Dawson, who has been with me from the beginning, as well as my loyal supporters, I hereby announce my intention to run for president of the United States.”
The rest of his statement was drowned out with applause. But the camera continued to land on the people behind the senator, holding for a brief moment on a guy about Decklan’s age in a suit and tie standing hand in hand with a woman Decklan would swear was his Amanda, dressed in a conservative yellow skirt and matching jacket, before moving on to the senator’s staff.
“That looked like Amanda!” Isabelle said on a squeal, confirming what the churning in Decklan’s gut already told him.
“Your Amanda?” Lucy asked.
“Shit,” Decklan muttered, trying to come to terms with what he’d seen. He ran a hand through his hair, wondering if he was suddenly in the middle of a nightmare, not reality.
“Decklan? Don’t jump to conclusions,” Izzy said.
Gabe rose to his feet. “Well, what conclusion is there to draw other than the obvious? That she’s got another life on the side? It’s not like our family doesn’t know about that.”
Gabe referenced their father’s brother, Uncle Robert, in Florida, and the fact that the man had had a wife and four children, along with a mistress with another four kids on the side. And nobody had known a thing. Not until one of his illegitimate daughters had needed bone marrow and Robert had wanted his legitimate kids tested.
Decklan’s stomach cramped. He needed information. “Where’s your laptop?” he asked his brother. It was one thing not to dig up information on Amanda when they were just starting out. Now he needed more.
“I’m going to kill her,” Lucy muttered, pacing the family room. “Nobody hurts my brothers without answering to me.”
“Take the pit bull routine down a notch, killer,” Decklan said, but he was grateful for her support.
Unlike Isabelle, who surprisingly wanted him to reserve judgment, Lucy and Gabe had jumped to the worst possible conclusion, while Decklan just felt raw. He knew what he’d seen on television, and a senator who wanted to be president wouldn’t stick his neck out with anything less than facts.
Decklan was leaning toward siding with Gabe and Lucy, but he couldn’t shake the fact that he’d been with Amanda. He’d learned about her, insecurities and all. And he’d been inside her body. He knew her.
Didn’t he?
He was no longer certain.
Gabe had already returned from his office with his computer in hand. He opened it up, typed in his password, and handed the laptop over to Decklan. After settling into a chair, Decklan performed a quick search and turned up fascinating information on Bradley.
“It seems the almost-fiancé is—”
“You assume he’s her almost-fiancé,” Isabelle said, interrupting him.
Decklan turned to her. “Iz, before Gabe, your live-in boyfriend cheated on you, so forgive me if I can’t trust your instinct.”
“Hey, watch it,” Gabe growled at him.
“It’s fine. I understand what you’re saying, but I have Gabe now,” she said with the confidence of a woman who trusted her man. “I’ve seen the difference between someone who tells the truth and someone who doesn’t.”