Chapter Twenty-Three
T
hree days later, Landis Kennedy issued a statement announcing his withdrawal from the mayoral race. The decision came as no surprise to anyone who’d watched or heard about Zandra’s emotional press conference. Her revelations about her father’s history of violence had, as one political analyst put it, “singlehandedly demolished the shortest-lived campaign” Chicagoans had ever seen.
An hour after Landis made his announcement, Johanna Kennedy filed for divorce. After the news broke, she sent Zandra a cryptic text message. Just three words that spoke chilling volumes:
You were right.
Later that morning, Zandra was in her office when Christine sauntered through the doorway. “She is woman, hear her roar.”
Zandra glanced up distractedly from the email message she’d been composing on her computer. “Hmm?”
“That was the headline from the latest editorial about you,” Christine explained, lowering herself into the chair across from Zandra’s desk. Her manicured fingers slid across her smartphone, scrolling through pages. “These are just some of the other headlines that have graced articles about you, and I admit some are more corny than clever. Zandra: Warrior Princess. A Daughter’s Triumphant Vengeance. The Slap Heard Around the World. Bullies Beware. Hell Hath No Fury Like a Madam Scorned.” Christine paused with a chuckle. “The girls are getting some great press, too. Oh, and they’ve been dubbed
Zandra’s Angels.
”
Zandra made a pained face. “Hadn’t heard
that
one.”
Christine grinned. “Three days later, you’re still one of the top trending topics on Twitter, and your Google ranking is even higher than that
other
famous Kennedy.”
Zandra shook her head, lamenting the societal tendency to sensationalize any story, no matter how tragic or deeply personal. But she’d understood what came with the territory when she’d agreed to hold the press conference. She’d forfeited any expectation of privacy the moment she’d looked into those cameras and invited the world into her life. But she had no regrets. Not if her actions helped other victims.
“You’re being hailed as a feminist heroine,” Christine said warmly.
Zandra heaved a sigh. “I’m not a heroine.”
But apparently others thought so. Since the press conference, she’d been flooded with calls and invitations for speaking engagements. She’d been contacted by every organization under the sun, from battered women’s shelters to civil rights groups.
It was both humbling and overwhelming.
Which was another reason she needed to get away. To that end, she was taking a month-long sabbatical to St. Lucia. Her flight was scheduled to depart in three hours, but she still had one last important thing to do before she left.
Christine winked at her. “Are you sure you don’t want to stick around and bask in your new celebrity status?”
“I’m sure,” Zandra said wryly.
Christine’s expression softened. “Thanks for entrusting the agency to me while you’re gone.”
Zandra smiled. “You’ve been with me from the beginning, and you love this agency as much as I do. Who else would I leave in charge?”
“Not Morgan, thank God.” Christine gave a mock shudder. “Love her, but she’s bossy as hell.”
Zandra laughed.
After the press conference, Morgan had resigned from her job to officially become Zandra’s publicist. She’d be earning more than she had ever imagined, which would enable her to save money toward opening her public relations business.
“Well, I’d better get back to the phone,” Christine said, rising from the chair. “We’ve been getting nonstop calls, and not just from reporters. The girls are in demand even more than ever. We’d better hire Lena’s replacement soon.”
“I know,” Zandra agreed with a sigh. “I’m working on it.”
After Christine left, Zandra returned her attention to her unfinished email.
It was the most difficult message she’d ever had to compose, because she knew how much pain she would cause by sending it.
But she had to. Or at least that’s what she’d been telling herself.
Zandra hesitated another moment, then resumed typing.
Ten minutes later, eyes brimming with tears, she stopped and read over what she’d written.
Rem,
I wanted you to know that I’ve rented a beach house on St. Lucia, where I’ll be spending the rest of the summer. By the time you receive this message, I’ll already be gone. I planned it that way. Only a few people know where I’m going, and I considered swearing them to secrecy so you wouldn’t follow me. But I knew that was pointless because you’d crack them too easily.
My mother used to say that she and I were nothing alike, and that was a source of great relief to her. But maybe she was wrong. Maybe we’re more alike than she ever thought. Maybe I’m a coward for sending you this letter after I’ve already skipped town. But I didn’t want to see you, Remy. I didn’t want you to try to talk me out of leaving. And I was afraid that if we talked, I might have said things I’d later regret.
Let me savor that last image of you, standing and applauding at the end of the press conference.
Please don’t come to me. So much has happened. I need time and distance to process everything. I think you understand that better than anyone.
I love you, Remy. No matter what happens between us, my love for you will never change.
Be well,
Z
Zandra stared at the blurred words on the screen, her hand hovering over the mouse.
Am I doing the right thing?
she wondered for the umpteenth time.
Am I?
After the press conference, she’d seen Remy only briefly because he’d had to catch a flight to Mexico. He’d only be gone a few days, he’d told her, but he wanted them to get together and talk when he got back.
She hadn’t refused. But as she’d watched him leave, she already knew she would be gone when he came home.
Zandra closed her eyes, sighing heavily. Fatigue had settled between her shoulder blades, weighing her down. Spending a month on a tropical island would do her mind and body good. Her heart...well, her broken heart was a different ailment that only time could cure.
After wavering another moment, she scheduled the email to be delivered after she was safely on the plane. Out of reach.
Swallowing a hard lump that had lodged in her throat, she shut down the computer and grabbed her purse and attaché case.
She paused at the door, glancing around the office to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything.
Then she turned off the light and walked out.
* * *
Remy sat behind his desk, the glow from the computer screen the room’s only illumination.
He’d never felt more acutely alone than he did that night.
Because Zandra was gone.
She’d left him.
Just walked out of his life with no warning.
Upon returning from Monterrey that afternoon, he’d intended to drive over to her apartment and talk to her, make her see that they belonged together and could get past any obstacle.
He’d needed to stop by the office first and take care of a few things. But an hour later, just as he was getting ready to leave, he’d received her email message.
And his world came crashing down.
Remy took a swig of beer, swallowed bitterly as his eyes returned to the glowing computer screen.
He read her letter again, each word carving deeper into his heart.
She’d asked him not to go to her. She might as well have told him to stop breathing. Even her closing salutation wounded him.
Be well?
How the fuck did she expect him to do that when she’d just jammed a stake through his heart?
You brought this on yourself,
his conscience reminded him.
You have no one but yourself to blame.
After settling the score with Kennedy last week, Remy had driven straight to Keegan’s office to get some answers. The commander had been deeply apologetic and incensed, explaining that Norwood had gone behind his back and asked one of his campaign staffers to spy on Zandra. Threatened by Kennedy’s growing popularity and promising poll numbers, Norwood then decided to preemptively leak the story about Zandra.
The mayor’s underhanded tactics, coupled with his obvious lack of trust in Keegan, had prompted the commander to resign in angry disgust. But this news brought Remy no consolation.
He’d tried to protect the woman he loved from scandal, and it had all blown up in his face. He’d deceived her and betrayed her trust, and that was something he’d have to live with for the rest of his life.
A life that Zandra had just walked out of. Possibly for good.
Remy gripped the beer bottle, then lifted and hurled it against the nearest wall.
As glass and foam exploded, he dropped his head into his hands and closed his eyes.
God,
he prayed like never before,
let her come back. Please let her come back to me.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“S
o when are you going to tell me the
real
reason you skipped town?” Skylar demanded.
Zandra sighed, glancing around the bustling terminal of the Hartsfield–Jackson International Airport in Atlanta. She’d been flipping through the latest issue of
Vogue
while she waited out her layover when her cell phone rang.
She shouldn’t have answered it. She wasn’t in the mood to be grilled.
“Hello?” Skylar prompted. “Are you there?”
“Actually, the reception’s been kind of spotty. So if we get disconnected—”
“Nice try. You’re not getting off this phone until you tell me what’s really going on with you.”
Zandra frowned. “Why do I have to have a reason to visit St. Lucia? It’s a beautiful island—”
“That you already visited this summer,” Skylar interjected. “
And
you just returned from London not too long ago.”
“So what? I didn’t realize I had to justify the number of vacations I take every year.”
“Don’t do that. You know that’s not what I meant.”
Zandra sighed. “I know. I—” She broke off as her gaze landed on a tall, dark and unbelievably gorgeous man sauntering through the busy airport, sipping from a tall cup of coffee. “Hey, I think that’s Michael Wolf.”
“What?”
Skylar squealed excitedly. “The celebrity chef?”
“Yeah. I think that’s him.”
“Oh, my God! Are you serious? Don’t tease me, Zandra. You know how much I love Michael Wolf. You
have
to get his autograph for me.”
Zandra chuckled dryly. “I know, or you’d never forgive me.” She lifted her sunglasses, peering closer at the approaching man. “Hmm. On second thought...I don’t think it’s him.”
“Really?” Skylar sounded deflated. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I think it’s his brother...or one of his cousins. They all look just alike.”
“I know,” Skylar breathed. “Every time he has them on his show, I have wet dreams afterward. God, they’re gorgeous. And when they huddle together at the end of the episode, put their heads back and howl? I need a defibrillator when they do that.”
Zandra chuckled, holding the phone away from her ear as Skylar let out a piercing howl that sounded
nothing
like the sexy rumble unleashed by the members of the Wolf Pack, as they were popularly dubbed.
As the man drew nearer, Zandra rifled through her memory bank, trying to recall names. Manning maybe? Marcus? Montana?
As if sensing her stare, the man’s dark eyes shifted to the right and met Zandra’s.
As he sauntered past her gate, he winked.
Zandra quickly snapped her sunglasses back into place and ducked her head over her magazine. She felt so foolish she couldn’t help giggling.
“What’s so funny?” Skylar asked curiously.
“Nothing,” Zandra muttered. “You’ve got me acting like an idiot over here.”
“Oh, I think you can manage that just fine on your own.”
Zandra frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Skylar countered with a question of her own. “Did something happen between you and Remy?”
Zandra closed her eyes, heaving a deep sigh. “How many times are you going to ask me that question?”
“As many times as it takes until you answer it.”
Zandra shook her head in frustration.
She still hadn’t told any of her friends about Remy’s betrayal. She didn’t want to be pitied, didn’t want anyone hovering worriedly over her. She didn’t want to be given false reassurances, nor did she want to be told that she’d overreacted.
And maybe some small part of her wanted to protect Remy from censure.
Either way, she wasn’t ready to share what had happened. So Skylar would just have to accept that.
“It’s complicated, Sky,” Zandra said quietly. “That’s all I can really say for now.”
Her friend sighed resignedly. “Well, that’s more than you’ve admitted up to this point. So I guess we’re making progress.”
Zandra smiled ruefully. “When I’m ready to talk, I’ll let you know.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
“Okay. Because you know I’m here for you if you need me.”
“I know,” Zandra said warmly. “And I appreciate that.”
“Hey, that’s what friends are for. Speaking of which, I still haven’t told you how my date went with that hot guy I met at your office. In all the chaos of the past week, it kind of got lost in the shuffle.”
Zandra grimaced, guilt washing over her. Since she hadn’t told Skylar about Remy’s secret investigation, she couldn’t very well tell her that the man she’d gone out with wasn’t who he’d claimed to be.
“Maybe it’s best that I don’t tell you anyway,” Skylar continued sheepishly. “I, uh, wasn’t on my best behavior that night.”
I know,
Zandra mused grimly.
“So,” Skylar said casually, “I was just wondering whether he’d called the agency to, you know, set up another date. I know that’s how it works, right? Your escorts don’t personally follow-up with clients, do they?”
Zandra sighed heavily. “No,” she answered. “They don’t. And no, he hasn’t called again.”
“Oh.” Skylar sounded so disappointed that Zandra’s heart twisted.
Damn Remy and his duplicity.
“It doesn’t mean he didn’t have a good time,” she assured her friend. “Clients don’t always call back right after a date. These guys are really busy. For all we know, he’s out of the country on business.”
“Of course,” Skylar said quickly. “That’s what I was thinking, too. Not that I’ve been dwelling on it or anything. I was just curious.”
“I know.” Zandra glanced around as her fellow passengers began gathering their things and powering down electronic devices. “Listen, Sky, they’re boarding for my flight now, so I’d better go.”
“Oh, okay. Well, have a safe trip, and remember I’m just a phone call away if you need me.”
“Thanks, Sky.” Zandra smiled. “Enjoy the rest of your summer and stay out of trouble.”
Skylar chuckled impishly. “I’ll try.”
“Try harder.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Before Zandra ended the call, Skylar said, “Zandra?”
“Yeah?”
Her friend’s voice was gentle. “Whatever it is you’re running away from? It’ll still be here when you get home. So don’t run too long.”
* * *
Over the next two weeks, Zandra licked her wounds in the peaceful solitude of a cozy cottage overlooking the same beach she and Remy’s family had visited during the previous trip to St. Lucia.
As one day blended into another, she tried to pretend that everything was normal. She ventured into town and bought artwork from local vendors to decorate the cottage. She took bus tours of the island, or went exploring on her own. She shopped at the food market, and cooked more than she had in years.
But when she ate on the terrace beneath a canopy of stars, she wished Remy were sharing the meal with her. When she went sailing and snorkeling, she longed for his company each time. When she headed down to the beach, lay in the shade and tried to lose herself in a book, her mind always wandered back to Remy, remembering the way he’d playfully tossed her into the water that long-ago afternoon.
One day as she watched a young couple build a sandcastle with their small child, she became so emotional that she had to get up and leave.
Coming back to St. Lucia, she soon realized, was like returning to the scene of a beautiful crime. Everywhere she looked she saw reminders of Remy, and she had to ask herself whether she’d subconsciously chosen to subject herself to these memories, the way she periodically read her mother’s suicide note. It was as though she found catharsis in self-punishment.
She was thinking of Remy late one afternoon as she walked along the shore of the empty beach, letting the waves wash over her feet, enjoying the warm sand between her toes. She squatted to pick up a shimmering shard of coral. As the foamy water lapped at her ankles and a gentle breeze sifted through her hair, she closed her eyes.
When she opened them and saw Remy walking toward her, a choked sob rushed up her throat. She thought she must be hallucinating. That she’d conjured him from a bottomless well of longing.
So she snapped her eyelids shut, kept them screwed together and slowly counted to ten. Then she carefully peeled them open.
He was still there.
And coming closer.
As she stared, the sight of him sauntering across the sugary sand took her breath away. He looked heart-stoppingly handsome in his white navy dress uniform. The one he swore he’d never wear again.
When he reached her, she got unsteadily to her feet.
“What are you doing here?” she asked in a choked whisper.
His dark eyes glinted at her. “You didn’t really think I could stay away, did you?”
She made a muffled sound, torn between laughter and exasperation. “You never could follow orders.”
His lips curved. “No, my queen.”
“Oh, God.” Her fingers trembled against her lips at the memory his words had evoked. “Remy...I—” She broke off, her voice strangling on another sob.
He gently stroked her hair, his eyes tracing her features. “I had to come, Zandra. Being apart from you was killing me.”
I know the feeling,
she thought.
“How have you been?” he asked quietly.
“Um. I’ve been better.” She looked him over, shaking her head slowly. “You’re wearing your old uniform... How did you know?”
His expression softened. “Your mother told me.”
She stared up at him, stunned. “My...mother?”
“Yeah.” A shadow of a smile touched his lips. “It was on your prom night, after you left the house. She pulled me aside and told me about your bonding ritual, how you two would watch
An Officer and a Gentleman
together and cry afterward. She joked that any man who wanted your hand would have to show up wearing a navy uniform.”
“She told you that?” Zandra whispered brokenly.
“Yeah.” His voice was husky with emotion. “She must have known...long before we did.”
As tears welled in Zandra’s eyes, Remy pulled her into his arms, tucked her head beneath his chin and held her tight as she wept into his chest.
She almost imagined she could feel her mother standing beside her, whispering the words from her letter.
Never be afraid to open your heart. The right man will know how to take care of it.
Remy was that man. And her mother had realized it years ago.
Long moments afterward, Zandra lifted her damp face to his. “I missed you,” she whispered.
“God, I missed you, too,” Remy groaned, kissing her forehead and her closed eyelids. “I couldn’t get here fast enough.”
She smiled. “I’m glad you came.”
“Are you?”
She nodded as he lovingly brushed the tears from her cheeks. “I really am.”
He shook his head at her. “I’m so sorry I hurt you, Zandra,” he said thickly, stroking her windswept hair off her face. “I tried like hell to convince myself I was doing the right thing, but instead I betrayed your trust.”
She swallowed. “I never expected that from you. I felt blindsided.”
“I know, baby. Not a day goes by that I don’t regret what I did. Do you think...do you think you can ever forgive me?”
She stared into his eyes, saw his anguish and remorse, and knew there was nothing she could ever refuse him.
She reached up and touched his cheek. “I think I already have.”
He turned his face and pressed a kiss to her palm, his eyes closed in an expression of infinite gratitude that clutched at her heart.
“I’m staying here for two more weeks,” she murmured.
As he opened his eyes and looked at her, she added almost shyly, “You’re more than welcome to stay, too. If you’d like.”
His gaze softened. “Oh, I’d like. I’d like very much.”
She smiled.
He leaned his forehead against hers, and they looked into each other’s moist eyes.
“I love you so much,” Remy said fervently.
“I love you, too.”
“I
need
you.”
“I need you, too.”
Cupping her face between his hands, Remy said in an achingly raw voice, “I can’t live without you, Z. Please don’t make me have to.”
Her throat tightened. “I won’t.”
“Then marry me.”
Even as rapture burst inside her, she couldn’t resist arching a brow at him. “Are you asking or telling me?”
“Both.” His eyes glittered. “Because I’m not taking no for an answer. In fact—”
She watched as he reached inside his pocket and removed a small black velvet pouch that she recognized, having purchased jewelry from Tiffany’s.
He said, “I’ll give you the box later. It wouldn’t fit in my pocket.”
“Oh, my God,” Zandra breathed as he removed an exquisite princess-cut engagement ring. “Remy...”
As he held up the ring, the five-carat diamond caught and reflected the sunlight.
Zandra beamed.
Remy chuckled at her, tweaking her nose. “You were always such a girl.”
She grinned, not denying it. “It’s a gorgeous ring, Remy.”
“I’m glad you like it. I can’t wait to put it on your finger.”
She held out a trembling hand.
“Ah, ah, ah,” he murmured. “Not so fast.”
“Don’t play with me, Rem.”
“I’m not. But you haven’t given me an answer yet.”
“Does it matter?” she teased. “You said you weren’t taking no for an answer.”
“I want to hear you say the word.” He held up the ring. “Do you want it?”
She gazed into his eyes. “Not as much as I want the man holding it.”
A look of tender euphoria swept over his face. “God, I love you,” he whispered.
“Ditto.” She paused. “And my answer is yes.”
“Yes?”
She smiled. “Yes.”
Tears misted her eyes as he slid the ring onto her finger. Then he hauled her into his arms, lifted her off the sand and spun her around. She laughed joyously, clinging to his neck as the ocean breeze danced through her hair.
Remy held on to her, his hands curving under her bottom as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Their lips met hotly, sealing the deal.
Even as the frothy waves washed over Remy’s feet, soaking the bottom of his pants, he didn’t stop kissing Zandra, didn’t release her mouth or uncurl his tongue from hers. As the kiss intensified, heat surged through her, hardening her nipples and dampening her panties beneath her sundress. She moaned with pleasure, tightening her thighs around him.