frozen in time in my mother’s mind. All of these frivolities had now been thrown away.
My bedroom décor here was a reflection of what kind of woman my mother had hoped I’d become. It was a space filled with perfect furniture and pristine patterns—fancy wallpaper and plush carpeting. No TV allowed.
At nineteen, I’d begged for my own apartment in the city, wanting to escape this swanky suburb and have some freedom.
My parents had other plans in mind for me.
The independence I craved would never be part of the deal. Not long before my twentieth birthday, I’d been formally introduced to Damien. And then told to wait for him.
Merely a few months after that, he was ready.
“I’ll go see Damien tomorrow,” I said softly.
I’d beg him to do whatever he could to make this problem go away, to persuade his father not to turn away from mine. After everything we’d shared, after he’d given me this ring, surely he would be willing to help.
What happened all those years ago?
What kind of scandal were we talking about?
The time I’d spent with Damien at Seascape had brought us closer, his touch lighting me on fire with an unmatched passion. Perhaps he, too, felt the burn of my affection. Perhaps he saw a future for us that would include love.
Maybe he was thinking of me now.
The true testament of what we were to each other would be revealed when I asked him to help us…help my father realize his dream of walking through the hallowed halls of the White House.
Great men had done worse, surely? These aspersions couldn’t be proven. Slander could be struck down in a lawsuit. A man like Senator Godman, who wielded more money and potentially more power than anyone else in this country, could make this go away.
“Damien will do anything for me, Daddy.”
His hand stroked my hair. “I hope you’re right.”
My gut twisted in doubt.
I got up and poured my dad another drink. When I handed him the glass, I leaned over and kissed the top of his head, and then left him alone with his scotch.
As soon as I returned to my room, I whipped out my phone and texted Damien. I thanked him for the lovely time I’d had; it was half true. Anyway, Daddy needed me to come through for him.
A moment later I stared at my phone’s screen in disbelief. My message couldn’t be delivered. Damien had blocked my number.
Peering through the window of the closed lecture room door, I could see she was attractive…and tall, too. Madeline Rhodes had captured the full attention of the hundred or so students filling the theatre seats all the way to the back. Years ago, she’d captured Damien’s full attention as well. According to Google, they’d once been lovers—and it was supposedly true that they’d remained good friends.
From what she’d scribbled on the whiteboard behind her, I had to believe she was smart. This was high-level statistics.
Damien preferred brunettes, apparently. The red blouse and black pencil skirt wearing kind with pointed heels and perfect makeup.
Rhodes would be free in minutes, according to the class schedule, which meant I didn’t have much longer to practice what I was going to say to her. I needed to gain her trust and get her to open up and share her insights on how to win Damien’s heart.
Or even just to get him to unblock me, for God’s sake.
Madeline seemed to sense me staring at her through the glass.
We locked eyes.
Two women with one man in common. We moved in different circles…she in academia and me amongst Washington’s elite, never destined to meet. Much to Damien’s relief, no doubt.
I wondered if her piercing blue eyes and mature beauty were a possible distraction to her class. She stood by the podium with confidence, commanding the room without compromise.
She ended the lecture with a casual gesture to her audience. Stepping back, I waited for the Georgetown University students to trail out. They threw curious glances my way as they headed into the hall. Soon, the seats were all empty and the senior lecturer was available.
She held the advantage.
“May I come in?” I asked, approaching the podium.
She picked up a leather satchel. “You’re already in.”
Rhodes was Damien’s type, all right. Or maybe she was his match. Either way she had an intimidating presence.
I paused a few feet away and glanced down at her blood red toenails. “Do you know who I am?”
“Most people know who you are.”
Yes, because those long lenses had captured my childhood