“You mean I’m trying,” came Blake’s voice in the background. “And I’m already on it. Apparently, you’re taking all the credit.”

Luke grimaced at Blake’s comment and continued speaking to Royce. “As you can see, I’ve recruited help. While Blake works the Sheridan angle, I’m working on anything and everything the senator has touched in the past year. Are you going to tell him about the phone calls and the calendars Lauren is getting?”

“Not yet,” Royce said. “Let’s see what we come up with first.”

“Exactly my thought,” Luke agreed. “This whole secrecy thing just doesn’t add up.”

“Agreed,” Royce said, glancing at the caller ID as his phone beeped. “Speak of the devil, the senator is calling me. Text me when you find something out.” He ended the call and flipped over to the next. “This is Royce.”

“Update, son. What is happening with my daughter?”

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to find out,” he said. “And it would be easier if we told her what is going on.”

The Senator grunted. “Absolutely not.”

Royce ran a hand through his hair. “She is going to hate us both when she finds out we didn’t tell her.”

“Then don’t let her find out,” he said bitingly. “Where is she now?”

“She’s safe.”

“Translate that to a detailed assurance.”

“I’m with her, out of her hearing range.”

“Well done,” he said. “I’ve got to head to a meeting. I’ll check in with you tomorrow.”

“Have you?” The line went dead.

Royce dropped the phone to stare at it in disbelief. Damn it to hell, he’d hung up. And without one single question about the progress on finding out who was behind the letters or what the lab had found out. More and more, something didn’t add up.

***

Lauren returned, having dried her hair, dressed in black sweats, a tee, and slipper socks, to find Royce stoking a fire that seemed to be on its way to a nice blaze.

He rotated on his heels from where he squatted, apparently hearing her approach, his gaze hotter than the fire, as it traveled a path up and down her body and settled on her t-shirt. He laughed, a deep rumble from his chest. Damn, she loved his laugh. “Lawyers have more fun?” he asked.

“Julie got it for me since I always tell her blondes have more fun. I told her the shirt proves nothing.” She motioned to the kitchen. ”I’ll grab the drinks. I’m starving.”

A few minutes later, they both sat on the floor with their laptops at the ready, their Reubens on plates. The fire crackled and rain splattered on the window in heavier taps.

Lauren took a bite of her sandwich and sighed. “Either it’s good or I’m just really, really hungry.”

“It’s good,” he agreed. “I haven’t had one of these in a long time.” He opened the container with his cheesecake and took a bite. “It’s good, too.”

“I’ve never seen anyone eat dessert with their meal instead of after.”

“It’s better than before, right?”

“I suppose it is,” she agreed and found herself considering him a moment. “You know, you really aren’t what I expected.”

“You’ve said that before the other night and then fell asleep. This time you’re not getting out of an explanation.”

“You’re just... different.”

“Different from other men you’ve known? From the politicians you work with?”

“Everyone else around me. I’m surprised you took the state advisor job. It doesn’t seem like you to want to deal with the politics of things.”

“I tolerate the politics, because I’m able to influence decisions that impact the safety of the public. I worked some pretty intense post 9/11 FBI operations. I don’t ever want the people of this country, this city, to see 9/11 happen again. And as I suspect you have done, I made the decision to grin and bear what I had to, to make an impact, or at least try. Frankly, I‘m shocked you aren’t working for your father’s law firm.”

She took a sip of her drink and set it down. “My father is all about money and power. That’s just not who I am. It wasn’t who my mother was either. Looking back, I think she chose to be a professor over a practicing lawyer to avoid the differences between her and my father.” She opened her cheesecake and took a bite. “Oh, that’s good.” She shoved her sandwich aside.

“Now look who’s eating out of order,” he teased.

“I ate half my sandwich,” she said. “That’s enough for me. You want the other half?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” he said and grabbed her plate, setting his now empty one aside and then surprised her by asking, “Didn’t I read you were engaged at some point?”

Her fork stilled in her mouth a moment, before she nodded and set it down, her gaze fixing on the orange flames of the fire. “Yeah. I was.”

Royce slid a finger under her chin. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“You're not. It’s just not a happy subject.”

“He hurt you.”

“I caught him in bed with another woman.” She held up a hand. “And don’t do the sympathy thing. After I was over the initial shock of his betrayal, I was actually relieved.” Lauren turned to face him, leaning her elbow on the couch, her legs curled to her side. “I wasn’t happy with him. I knew long before we broke up that he didn’t want me. He wanted control of my father’s law firm. By him taking it, I didn’t have to deal with my father’s nagging for me to take over.”




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