Page 21 of Enduring Promise

Russ shifted, understanding dawning in his eyes as he looked from Hillary to Claire. He didn’t have illusions about how broken the system was—he’d seen it up close. But he also knew that sometimes, with the right allies, it was possible to chip away at the armor of men like Michael.

“Claire,” he said, his voice steady and calm, “you don’t have any good options. So let’s at least pick the one that keeps you out of his reach.”

“And where do we start?”

“I’d say having a lawyer and a reporter ready to fight with you isn’t a bad place to begin.” Hillary walked over and stroked the horse’s neck. “And I have a feeling Madame Fournier might be more receptive to joining this fight than you think. She’s been worried about you.”

“The last thing I wanted to do was bring anyone else into this.” She dropped her head in shame. “I can’t believe I was stupid enough to fall for his lies. I compromised everything I believed in, everything I worked for. I threw it all away for nothing.”

Hillary folded her arms across her chest and glared seriously. “Then make it worth something now.”

CHAPTER 22

Hillary and Russ tried to slip in quietly. She hoped they’d make it to the stairs so she could get to her room and change out of her sneakers, but Madame Fournier was quick to pull them into the party.

Claire had been luckier. Sophie appeared, gently tugging Claire up the stairs to freshen up before anyone could see the tear-streaked face or casual clothes.

Hillary tried not to bring attention to her white sneakers when she found herself caught in Madame Fournier's orbit as she took her arm with a practiced charm, sweeping both Russ and her into the crowd. "Everyone is asking about Claire," Madame whispered conspiratorially, "and I think the two of you can be quite the distraction for now."

“We’ll do our best,” Hillary answered sheepishly.

Madame Fournier looked down suddenly and spotted the sneakers. “What on earth are you wearing? That’s not the kind of distraction I was talking about. You look like you’re going to the gym.”

“I can go up and change,” Hillary offered, trying to get her long dress to fall over the sneakers.

“No,” Madame Fournier replied, her face all pinched up as though she’d smelled something terrible.

Hillary shot Russ a quick glance, relieved and surprised to find him enjoying the ruse as much as she was. She looped her arm through his, finding comfort in the simplicity of pretending, even if only for a few hours.

As they made their way through the room, Madame Fournier introduced them to a few well-heeled guests. They listened as people talked about their work, their causes, and the places that stirred their hearts. Hillary found herself drawn into stories of nonprofits spanning the globe, each one fueled by passion and purpose. Yet her gaze drifted frequently to the door, anticipating the moment Claire would reappear.

Finally, the door opened and Claire appeared, her head held high and her tears long gone. She looked strong. And she damn well would have to be.

Hillary’s grip tightened on Russ's arm and a strange sense that maybe things would work out overcame her.

She should have known better than that.

As Claire sidled up to them with her shoulders high there was a quiet interruption from the butler. “Pardon me, Miss Claire, but someone is at the door for you. A Dr. Michael Hale. Would you like me to escort him in here to the gathering or have him wait for you in the downstairs sitting room?”

Hillary felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up and watched as Russ’s hand balled into a fist. She bit out the words which had the butler’s eyes widening with shock. “Tell him he can meet me outside. Or go straight to hell.”

“He’s here?” Claire asked, her hand flying to her mouth in panic.

“Can you give us a moment,” Russ said, though the anger was written all over his face. The butler stepped away as he continued, “He’s not going to do anything here during theparty. This may work in our favor. Maybe you can get him to incriminate himself. Get some evidence that might help.”

“He’s going to know I’m turning on him. It’ll be so obvious. I’ve been trying to distance myself from him. Completely blowing him off.”

Hillary took a deep breath, her mind racing to form a plan that might salvage this moment. Claire looked as though she was on the verge of bolting, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her eyes darting toward the room’s entrance as if expecting Michael to burst through at any second.

“It’s not an option to back down now,” Hillary said firmly, her voice steady. She placed a hand on Claire’s arm, grounding her. “The moment has come to your doorstep. Running isn’t going to make it go away.”

Claire shook her head, her voice trembling. “Then what do I do? Should I confront him? Tell him I know exactly what he’s done and he’s not going to get away with it?”

“No,” Hillary replied quickly, her tone sharp enough to stop Claire in her tracks. “No, men like Michaellovean argument. They thrive on it. They wait for the chance to wrestle the upper hand away from you, to manipulate you, to make you feel small. That’s their game.”

Claire frowned, her brow furrowing. “Then what? What’s the move?”

Hillary’s lips pressed into a thin line before she answered. “Ego. That’s the way to win with men like him. You have to let him think he has the power.”

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