“I’ll hold it during the fundraiser,” Canyon smiled with sympathy. “You don’t need the reminder.”
“Thank God for you, Canyon.”
“Audrey,” Miranda broke in from the open door. “It’s time.”
He stood and helped her up with both hands. He gripped her fingers and stared into her eyes with a serious smile.
“No, Aud. Thank God for you. Now go kick some ass.”
Standing behind the curtains off stage, Audrey heard plates clanking on the tables, the semi-soft hum of gossiping and toasting. It was a packed house. Or supposed to be.
“A few empty chairs, but there’s more than double the news cameras we expected.” Miranda reported as she peeked through a few folds in the curtain.
“So, you’re saying less of the kinda crowd we want, and more of the wrong kind?” Audrey summarized.
“We did the best damage control we could today,” she replied with a slightly smaller smile than before. “If anyone can come back from that disaster article, it’s you. But it’s all up to the voters now.”
“Maybe with a little luck,” Canyon added. “Wyatt Williams will slip up a bit in his last few speeches.”
“Enough,” Audrey breathed, focusing on slowing her heartbeat. Every speech or public appearance always made her nervous. Her ritual—of reminding herself she was worth it and could make a difference—wasn’t working tonight. “Let’s just give these people a good party and make sure this Crisis Center gets off the ground running.”
“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” Miranda gave her arm a squeeze and walked on stage, approaching the podium like Caesar to the Roman Forum.
What Audrey wouldn’t give for Miranda’s confidence right now. Instead, she fidgeted with the note cards in her hand and prayed for it. A quick pat of her dark hair pulled into a French twist gave no help.
“Good evening, ladies and gentleman,” Miranda’s energetic voice boomed throughout the room. “Thank you all so much for coming tonight.”
The introduction continued as Audrey stared at her hands, waiting for her cue.
Is this what I really want?
Mrs. Davis’ words rang through her head—between every applause through the ballroom, with every squeal of the microphone.
That night with Ethan, his honest words made her rethink everything. Or she thought they were honest. For all she knew, it was just his way to feel less guilty about sabotaging her campaign. Get her to think that another dream was possible, build up her hopes, and then run away as fast as his dirty feet could carry him.
But the prick plunged a thorn in her mind. The glimmer of an idea beyond what she planned for herself. Could she do it?
“Please welcome our hostess for tonight, the woman who put everything in motion, Audrey Allen.”
Peacemaker face.
Audrey lifted her chin and walked on stage, smile firmly in place. The spotlights blinded her view to the packed room, and a barrage of camera flashes matched the volume of the crowd’s applause.
When she reached the podium, she gave Miranda a quick hug, the anchor she needed to keep from running.
“Make ’em love you, girl,” she murmured in her ear, away from the microphone.
A moment later, she stood behind the podium, alone, facing a thousand sets of eyes, and countless more behind the twenty video cameras she counted from the tiny red lights in the back.
“Now
this
is what I call a party.” Audrey kept her smile glued in place as cheers and laughter rippled through the room. A quick glance at the podium where her trusty cards rested didn’t ease her nerves. Miranda and Canyon’s thumbs-up from off stage didn’t help either.
“Your support for this Crisis Center means more to these women than simple words can express. Everyone in this room knows, either from someone close or through personal experience, that life throws curveballs. Sometimes nasty ones that smack you in the face, or others that nail you right in the kneecaps. So hard that you need some help getting back on your feet.”
Murmurs of approval throughout the crowd should have propelled her forward. Kept them hanging on every word. But she couldn’t. The words on the cards in front of her blended together as did every light over her head.
People like you, offering a hand to help them up, make the difference.
The ink made no sense as she read it over and over, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks.
“You never think you’re going to be the one who needs the help…”
Was that out loud? Stick to the plan, Audrey. Focus.
But the confidence never came and the emptiness consumed her, staring into the blinding lights.
If only she could breathe.
If only she didn’t feel so naked…her scars exposed to the bone.
He thought so little of me. For the briefest moment, he made me feel like anything was possible, and then body-checked me into the mud.
Stop it. Don’t crack up, Audrey. Not on stage. Not in front of all these people. Hold it together.
Silence.
More camera flashes. First one, then four, then six.
“Miss Allen, I have a favor to ask you.”
The voice came from the darkness beyond the red lights, confident, silky and strong.
And loud.
Only one voice would be that forceful without any hint of respect or humility.
The crowd turned in one tsunami to identify the person as Audrey covered the lights with her hand to find him.
He stepped between the cameras and continued walking—almost strutting—to the side of the ballroom.
Ethan.
In a black tux with platinum tie and vest.
Wearing that half-smug smile and determined stare that she’d love if she didn’t hate him so much.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Audrey clamped her jaw together to keep from her mouth falling to the floor. The jerk kept strutting toward her without the slightest hint of regret. This level of anger welling inside her meant only one thing. She loved the prick.
“Ladies and gentlemen, you’re looking at the strongest woman in politics. You know that, or you wouldn’t be here supporting her.”
Audrey’s hands were fused to the podium, anything to keep her knees from giving out as this man attempted to destroy her more. She felt Miranda and Canyon step on stage from the wings, but for what purpose? They couldn’t stop him. Ask him to leave, sure. But he wouldn’t listen.
Maybe to keep me from collapsing.
“But there’s one thing you don’t know about this woman.”
Oh God. What else could he possibly have to spill that he hadn’t thrown up in his article?
“Mr. Tanner, if you’d care to take a seat,” Miranda interrupted. “The focus for tonight is the Crisis Center.”
“Yes it is.” He never took his eyes off of Audrey. “And I’ve brought several people with me who pledge their support for Audrey’s dream. As well as their vote.”
He motioned to the back doors and Audrey squinted to see beyond the spotlight.
Holy shit.
Her mouth finally dropped.
“I’d like to introduce Paul and Claire Davis,” Ethan continued as the elderly couple moved to the side of the room, hand in hand. Each smiling at Audrey with pride. “For those of you who haven’t read the paper this morning, they lost their son in a tragic accident ten years ago. The same accident in which Audrey almost lost her life as well.”
Whispers and grumblings around the room made him pause. But not long.
“They’re here to show their support for Audrey Allen and this Crisis Center. Along with her family.”
Audrey hadn’t noticed that right behind the Davises was her mother, teary-eyed and grinning, as well as her father, hands shoved firmly in his suit pockets, the uncomfortable scowl still in place, but his eyes as wide as the room.
Followed by Adam. Slowly escorting a waddling Sally and bubbly Adelaide on his arms.
When she finally absorbed her family’s presence, including Adam’s humble stare, Ethan had climbed the stage and stood a few feet away from her. A nasty bruise covered the side of his chin. But those eyes. How they looked straight into her, blew open the last remaining shields surrounding her heart and caressed.
All she could do was stare at him as he moved forward and took the microphone off the podium, his hand wrapped in medical tape. Everything about him, his eyes, his gestures, his aura, said
trust me
.
“These two families know devastation.” His quasi-preacher style voice rang throughout the room. “They know what it’s like to be fast balled in the kneecaps, as Audrey put it. To sacrifice. They know loss and heartache, probably more than anyone else here. Except for Audrey. That’s why Crisis Centers like this can make a huge difference. And Audrey’s right…” He looked straight at her, right into her eyes down into her heart. “You never think it’s going to happen to you. Until that horrible moment where you’re lying on a cold, rain-covered road. Alone.”
For a second, Ethan’s voice broke, studying Audrey’s face and his hand over his heart.
“No one should have to face that devastation alone,” he softened. “These folks here know that. They spend their lives helping others. They support Audrey. Because they love her. And you all should, too.”
Though tearing her eyes away from Ethan’s commanding presence was hard, she looked at her family, standing beside the Davises, smiling and ignoring the continuous camera flashes in their faces. Adam had placed his hand over his heart, and the grimace she’d thought he’d permanently etched onto his face was gone. Only replaced with strength, honor. A true military man. Pride.
And the tears slipped out.
“Many of you know there’s a small election this Tuesday.” Ethan smiled through the chuckles. “Each of these folks here with me tonight pledge their vote for Audrey. And so do I.”
Sparse applause scattered among the crowd and Ethan stepped forward, taking Audrey’s hand from the podium and holding it like a rare jewel. “I also pledge a donation to the Women’s Crisis Center of ten thousand dollars. In Audrey’s name.”
The applause erupted through the entire room now as she trembled. Whistles and cheers filled the air, but all she could see was Ethan. He set the microphone on the podium and held both her hands.
The arrogance was gone. Only penitence and unending affection glimmered in his eyes. “I love you. I will spend the rest of my life making this up to you. To show how important you are. And how much a difference you’ve made in my life. Even if you still hate me, I love you.”
Through the applause, now a standing ovation, Ethan wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her. Hesitant at first, waiting for permission. Audrey snaked her hands around his neck and gave in. Releasing her anger with one glide of her tongue along his teeth, the room faded around them in bright lights.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Adam stood in the back office, shoulders stiff and gray suit stretched along his chest, proud and humble simultaneously. Her parents and the Davises stood just outside chatting with Ethan and mingling with the other donors.
“You look incredible,” Adam whispered, having a hard time looking her in the eye.
“Thank you,” Audrey smiled, his compliment stunning her to the chair.
“Ethan drove back this morning and we…had a chat.”
“Ah,” Audrey nodded. “That explains his nasty bruise. And your swollen knuckles.”
Adam shrugged and rubbed his palm. “A gentlemen’s understanding. He brought Mom and Dad along. The Davises too. Said some things that put stuff into perspective for me.” Adam sat in the free chair across from her and leaned his elbows on his knees.
“I owe you an apology. Several, actually.” He cleared his throat and looked away.
“Adam, it doesn’t matter.”
“No. I…” He cleared his throat again. “After your accident, that reporter came around asking for comments while you were still in the hospital. Mom and Dad kicked him off the porch. Then he saw me down at the barn and asked me a whole bunch of questions. I was so angry and hurt that I just started talkin’. That morning, I had found the pregnancy test in the bathroom trash and knew. I was so angry. At both of you. And I lost it. But I had no idea the reporter was gonna twist it the way he did. I’m the one who’s responsible.”
“Why didn’t you say something to me?”
“I could hardly look at you. I was so cooped up in my own resentment.”
“For ten years?”
“No, that was more guilt.”
“And stubbornness.”
“And stubbornness. I was wrong. It’s no excuse. What Ethan said…how you were left alone… I didn’t understand.” Adam wiped a tear from his cheek, then another. “I’m so sorry.” And her big brother, the embodiment of strength and protection, cried into his hands.
Audrey stood and hugged him, cradling his head into her shoulder. He gripped her back, letting it come, and as quickly as it started, the tears slowed.
“I love you,” she whispered into his hair. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“I’m proud of you, Audrey,” he said as he held her hands. “Jack would be proud.”
Audrey smiled and took a deep breath, letting her brother’s praise sink in. “
There’s
my brother. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him.”
He laughed and wiped his cheek.
“Jack would be proud of you, too.”
“Yeah, well…only on some things.” Adam grinned. “But one thing hasn’t changed.”
“What’s that?”
“You’re still thicker skulled.”
“Oh ho! You ain’t seen nothin’ yet! Let’s go back out there and get a drink.”
****
Ethan stood on the sidelines nursing a ginger ale as Audrey maneuvered the room, thanking everyone for their support and mingling with the city’s do-gooders. Between the hugs, handshakes, and toasts, Ethan watched her chat with every single person. From million-dollar chummies, to those who could only afford the dinner plate. Including a few women from the Crisis Center, in brand new dresses and hairstyles, all on Audrey’s dime.
She was the same Audrey with each one of them. Genuine, caring, and one of a kind. This wasn’t glad-handing or pandering, like Ethan had seen countless politicians do, including her competitor Wyatt Williams. And his father.
Finally, someone worthy of valuable press.
Ethan sipped the last of his ginger ale and ordered another. He didn’t realize he’d gotten so cynical over the last several years. The anger at his father had festered and left him bitter. And it didn’t help that his former boss was the king of cynics and encouraged him into the wrong things. That was Bose’s choice, and you couldn’t teach an old snake any tricks, let alone new ones.