Fast Track (Buchanan-Renard #12)

Aiden cut him off. “Walker has already signed, and so has Spencer. It’s up to you and me to finish this.” He took a pen from his breast pocket and shoved it in front of him. “Why don’t you sign first, Congressman?”

His mind racing, Chambers tried to think of a way out of this fiasco, but he drew a blank. He was trapped, and he knew it. The crowd’s cheers grew louder as they began to chant his name. The people were looking up at him almost adoringly, they were so grateful for what he was doing for them. Maybe there was some good to come from this disaster after all. He had them in his pocket now. Every one of them would vote for him because he was their savior. With a flourish he took the pen, bent down, and signed his name.

Only Aiden could see the anger in his eyes when they shook hands. The man was seething, which, all things considered, was an expected reaction.

The congressman was patted on the shoulder a dozen times and had to shake hands with most of the people there on his way out the door to go back to Washington for his important vote. He wanted to linger and lap up the adulation, but he worried they’d catch on that he’d lied about having an important vote. He had no idea what he would say if they asked him what the vote was for. Losing the fortune he could have made from Rock Point definitely stung, but despite it all, he was actually feeling good about the future. He wouldn’t need to spend much money on additional campaigning now. He’d just won the hearts of the voters.

Kalie, the young reporter who had talked to Aiden and Spencer the last time they were in town, waited outside the doors. She had her microphone in hand and a cameraman behind her as Aiden approached.

Mayor Green intercepted him. “Thank you again for the generous donation to my campaign,” she said, “but after the congressman’s press conference, I don’t think I have much of a chance.”

“You’re the woman for the job,” Aiden said, motioning for Kalie to start recording. People gathered around as he looked into the camera and said, “Mayor Green cares about the people of this town. If it weren’t for her, the Hamilton Hotel and Resort wouldn’t be built here. Although your current congressman is taking credit, he had nothing to do with it. Your mayor worked for more than a year, calling and writing and sending photos of this beautiful area, to convince us to build here. She should be your next representative in Congress. I certainly would vote for her if I lived in this district. Just like she fought to get the Hamilton, she’ll fight for you in Washington. Do the right thing. Vote for Mayor Green.”

He turned to Mayor Green and began to laugh. She looked flabbergasted. Fortunately, Kalie had just given the cameraman the signal to stop taping.

         • • •

An hour later Aiden was back on the plane and on his way home. He hadn’t seen Cordelia in more than a week. He couldn’t believe how much he missed her. He knew her cast had come off three days ago, and he’d heard from Regan that the doctor wasn’t happy to see a swizzle stick stuck inside.

He felt travel weary. He’d flown from San Diego to Houston and then up to Rock Point. Months ago he had made up his mind to slow down, to stay home more, but it wasn’t until he had to deal with the congressman and other men just like him that he realized how tired he was.

He wanted off the fast track. And he wanted Cordelia.

Thanks to Liam’s connections and hard work, along with a top attorney and the court in Sydney, Cordelia was now the owner of Merrick stock. It was expected that she would go back to Sydney to meet the board and sign additional papers. Aiden told her there was no way he would let her go there without him. He’d learned then not to use those exact words. Telling her he would “let” her do anything set her temper off. He smiled thinking about it.

He’d heard Julian Taylor’s arrest had started a firestorm in the press. Liam told him Simone and her family were on holiday, which he translated to mean they were hiding until things calmed down. Simone’s past was such a juicy story, Liam didn’t think that would happen soon. So far, they were leaving Cordelia alone. Aiden knew they would eventually want to interview her. He also knew she wouldn’t talk to any of them.

It was closing in on one in the morning by the time Aiden got back to the hotel. He went to Walker’s suite first. His brother was a night owl. He was going over notes Spencer had left for him when Aiden walked in, dropped the contract in his lap, and said, “It’s all yours and Spencer’s. He’ll take the lead and show you how it’s done.”

“You don’t want to run it?”

“No.”

He wasn’t worried Walker would screw up. The team wouldn’t let him. They had been doing this long enough that they had gotten rid of the wrinkles. It was a well-oiled machine now. “I’ll tell you all about the congressman’s press conference tomorrow. I’m beat. I’m going to bed.”

He went down the hall and opened the door to his suite. It was spotless. There wasn’t anything out of place. No phone under a chair, no scarves draped across the sofa, no chemistry books. No Cordelia.

She’d left a note propped up against a vase of flowers on the table telling him she was leaving and thanking him yet again for his help. He held it in his hand as he stood in the doorway of her bedroom. It was just as spotless and sterile as the living room. He didn’t know where she was or what she was doing. There was only one certainty. He wanted her back.

Coming to terms with his misery took time. He paced around the living room, and at two o’clock he called Alec. He was sound asleep, of course. It was the middle of the night.

Alec stirred at the sound. He carefully eased Regan off his shoulder so he wouldn’t wake her and fumbled for the phone. “Agent Buchanan,” he answered.

“Where is she?”

“What? Aiden?”

“Where is Cordelia?” He repeated the question in a firm voice.

Alec yawned. “She’s sleeping in the guest room.”

“So she didn’t leave for Boston?”

“No, she didn’t.”

Long seconds passed before Aiden spoke again. “She’s all right?”

“Yes. She’s fine.”

“When is she leaving for Boston?”

“Two days,” he answered. “Tomorrow is that Summerset thing, and she leaves the next morning.”

“Okay, then.” Aiden sounded relieved.

“I’m glad you finally figured it out,” Alec said on a long, drawn-out yawn. “I’m going back to sleep now.”

THIRTY

Cordie had just taken a grueling two-mile ride around her old neighborhood with Jayden Martin in his new used car. He didn’t mention that it was a stick shift until she was in the passenger seat, nor did he mention that he didn’t know how to drive a stick shift. She had whiplash before they rounded the first corner.

He was proud of his car and wanted her assessment and approval. She was diplomatic as she went over the repairs she thought he needed. First was the muffler. It was about to fall off. Then there were the tires. They were as bald as an eagle’s head and needed to be replaced. She also mentioned that he needed someone with experience to teach him how to drive a stick shift because he was stripping the gears.

By the time she got back to the house, she was late getting ready for the Summerset Ball. Alec and Regan officially owned her house now, and it felt strange to sleep in the guest room. Since her bed fit in it perfectly, she decided she would leave it and buy a new one in Boston.

Cordie had deliberately been crazy busy all week so she wouldn’t have time to think about Aiden. Once she was on the road, she could cry her way to Boston if she wanted, even though her father wouldn’t approve of that behavior. Crying upset him, and whenever he saw tears, he would tell her to man up, which, all things considered, didn’t make a lick of sense.

There were a few good things she could concentrate on. The students she was tutoring suddenly figured it out. At first she could almost see the confusing chemistry problems tumbling around in their minds, and when things actually clicked, she felt a rush similar to euphoria. That “got it” moment was the reason she became a teacher. She would still be doing her job at St. Matthew’s if it weren’t for Aiden, but she was desperate not to follow in her father’s footsteps and long for someone she couldn’t have. Life was too short to waste, and she was ready for a fresh start.

“Why aren’t you in the shower?” Regan stood in the doorway of the kitchen with her hands on her hips. Her hair and makeup were done, and she wore her robe. “You’re not ready.”

“You’re not ready,” Cordie countered.

“All I have to do is put on my dress. Hurry up, Cordie. You’re going to have fun tonight.”

Cordie rinsed her glass and put it in the dishwasher. “How do you know I’ll have fun?”

Regan shrugged. “No one’s going to try to kill you. That’ll be fun.”

“There is that,” she said.

“You’ve got grease on your face.”

“I know.” Jayden had popped the hood and wanted her to look at the engine and check the connections. “I’m getting in the shower,” she promised and hurried up the stairs.

She wasn’t in the mood to pretend to be happy and smile and make inane conversation, but she was going to do exactly that, and no one, not even her best friends, would know her heart was breaking.

The sapphire blue gown she’d worn in Sydney had been cleaned and was hanging in the closet. Unfortunately, Miss Marie wasn’t there to oversee Cordie’s makeup and hair. She smiled thinking about the bossy woman and hoped one day she’d see her again.

After she’d dried her hair, she put on a little makeup—nothing as artful as Miss Marie’s work, but at least she looked more like herself. She left her hair down because the only other option she had was a ponytail, and she didn’t think that would be appropriate. When she was ready, she stood in front of a full-length mirror to check that everything was tucked in. Miss Marie was right, she decided; the gown was the exact color of her eyes.

Regan and Alec were waiting for her in the foyer. Regan was fixing Alec’s tie. They both turned as she came down the stairs.

“You look beautiful,” Regan said.

“You look beautiful, too, Regan,” she replied. It wasn’t an idle compliment. The deep burgundy gown was stunning on her friend.

Cordie was quiet on the way to the country club where the charity ball was being held. She sat in the backseat watching Alec tug on his collar.

Regan noticed. “Twice a year, Alec. You only have to wear a tux twice a year, so suck it up.”

Her husband laughed. “Suck it up?”

The mood lightened, and by the time they walked into the country club, they were all ready to have a good time.

The club was one of Chicago’s older establishments, but it had recently been remodeled, and the ballroom had been expanded to nearly twice the original size. It was beautifully appointed in a contemporary design. Two-story-high windows overlooked the lake and golf course. Crystal chandeliers shaped like glistening waterfalls hung from the ceiling and cast a soft light on the guests who mingled on the dance floor in the center of the room. Round tables decked out in white linens and gleaming crystal and silver lined the perimeter.

The band was tuning their instruments on the stage at the far end of the dance floor. Quite a crowd had shown up, and the laughter and champagne were flowing. It was a festive occasion, Cordie reminded herself, and time for her to stop being melancholy and get with it.

Alec found their table. Cordie thought she would sit and watch the couples dance, but that didn’t happen. As soon as the music started, she was pulled onto the dance floor by one of the most aggravating men. His name was Elliott, and he had chased after her all through college. He didn’t know how to take no for an answer, and like a pesky rash, he wouldn’t go away no matter how many times she tried to excuse herself. Forcing a smile, she tried to pay attention to what he was saying, but the romantic song the band was playing kept intruding.

The music finally ended. She stepped away from her partner and, politely refusing another dance, turned to go back to the table. She suddenly froze. Aiden was there, in the doorway talking to Jack and Sophie. Aiden in a tuxedo—there wasn’t anything in the world that could take her breath away like Aiden in a tuxedo. She stood in the center of the dance floor, all alone, watching him. Her mind was telling her to turn around and walk—or run—but her legs weren’t cooperating. She had thought she’d be able to get out of town without seeing him again. It had actually become a hope.

No such luck.

She could do this, she told herself. She would thank him yet again for taking such good care of her, kiss him on the cheek, and run like lightning. It seemed like a good plan of action until she reevaluated. Being a coward wasn’t such a bad thing, was it? Maybe she should just run now.

The music began—another romantic song, of course—and Elliott was back asking for one more dance. Before she could answer him, Aiden was there telling him no and taking her into his arms. Pressing his body to hers, he glided her away.

One dance. She could do one dance. Then she’d run.

“How is your arm?” he asked.

“Good. It’s good.”

He pulled her closer. “I’ve missed you.”

“You’ll get over it.”

His reaction was puzzling. He laughed and released his hold so he could look in her eyes. “You know what else I miss?”

“No, what?”

She was totally unprepared for his answer. “The sounds you make when I’m inside you.”

“Oh God . . .”

“And when you’re begging me to let you come—”

Her hand covered his mouth. “Stop talking like that,” she whispered. “People will hear.”

Her blush delighted him. “You know what else I miss?”

She buried her face in his chest. “Don’t you dare say it . . .”

“I miss the way your nails dig into my back, and I miss the way you say my name when you’re writhing in my arms.”

She groaned. “Please stop.”

He couldn’t resist. “I’ve never heard you say that.”

Her knees were going to buckle. Fortunately, he was holding her up. She realized she needed to get the upper hand.

“We have established that you like sex. I don’t need to hear any more reasons why.”

“I like sex with you. No, that’s not right. I love sex with you.”