Page 33 of Desolation

“I thought you said you would never leave for work like Daddy does.”

I did tell her that. But I can’t tell her the truth. She’s barely six. Her daddy is her hero and what I am doing will break her heart if what I think is true, really is. “I don’t normally. I just had to, this one time. But I am almost done.”

“Can we tell Daddy yet?”

“Nope it’s a surprise for him,” I remind her.

“Can you just come home before he does? He’s boring and he never plays with us.”

It hurts me to hear that. Michael loves his girls but he has a hard time showing it. Probably because of how he grew up. His father was never around and his mother was too busy socializing. Their nanny and housekeeper raised him and his brothers. All of them are ruthless businessmen. Michael worked for his father’s investment firm for thirteen years before he encouraged Michael to run for office. And now Michael took his need for power to the senate.

“I’ll be home very soon.” I hate lying to her but I don’t know what else to say. I can’t make her any promises because I am waiting on Dax. He says he is getting close but close is not enough. I need answers now before Michael realizes I am not in the state. “Why don’t you tell me about your time with Grandma?”

That cheers her up almost instantly. She loves spending time with my mom. And my mom loves spending time with them. When I left the west side of Chicago to build a better life for myself, I vowed to my mom that I would take her with me. She suffered enough at the hands of the gangs on the streets. When I got engaged to Michael, he helped move her to an apartment in Boston. When we bought our house in Beacon Hill we made sure it had a mother-in-law suite but she insisted she wanted to live on her own. She saved enough money from her job to afford a mortgage for a quaint house in the suburbs just off the ocean. Michael and I paid her down payment and we help with the mortgage. It fills me with warmth to know my mom finally has the life she always wanted and deserved.

Too bad the consequences are now eating me alive.

After I say goodbye to my kids, I slip on a bikini I found in the pool house the other day and sit by the pool. I hate doing this. It makes me feel like I am on a vacation. I should be trying to figure out what those documents say. Figure out where the money came from that ended up in my foundation’s accounts. But I feel useless. Rebecca has assured me that the money hasn’t been touched in those accounts. She knows that wherever it came from is bad news.

My fingers skim the top of the water as I try to quell the thoughts in my head. I’ve been going to the VA hospital daily because it seemed to be the only thing to quiet my brain. But I didn’t want to risk running into Landon again. I don’t know how he always shows up when I am there but it’s getting annoying.

I mean, I am telling myself it’s annoying. In all honesty, I find it charming. He seems like the type of man who never has to work for a woman. And I know I am making him work hard. Not that I intend to agree to go to dinner with him. But I can’t help but think what it would be like to go on a date with him. I’m sure I would be awkward as hell. I don’t know what people do on dates anymore. It’s been nearly fifteen years since I dated anyone. Back then we would go bowling or to Friendly’s. We never did anything formal. I’ve been on dates with my husband since we got married and he’s taken me to nice restaurants, Broadway, getaways in Maine. But that’s easy when you know someone. I don’t know Landon.

Dammit, why am I even thinking about this, again?

I jump out of the pool lounger and jump into the pool, hoping the water will clear my head of this stupid idea of dating someone who is clearly much younger than me.

But it doesn’t work. All I can think about is that square jaw, those dark eyes filled with pain he doesn’t know he is showing, those impressive muscles that stretch his t-shirt thin. He has a scar over his left brow, the only flaw on his tanned skin, and I want to know how he got it.

I start to swim laps to shake the thoughts when I see the shadow of a man on the edge of the pool. I scream, forgetting my head is underwater and start to choke as I crest the surface. I swim backward, rubbing my eyes when I hear laughter.

“You scared the shit out of me,” I say to Dax.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Dax says as he tries to hold back another laugh.

I swim to the end of the pool and climb out, grabbing a towel as I make my way to Dax. “You’re home early.”

“I decided to take a half day.”

I look at him quizzically. The man is a workaholic.

“Get dressed, I need to ask you something.”

I watch as he walks into his house and I rush to get showered and dressed. Once I’m done, I head toward his house and find him in the kitchen making two sandwiches. He smiles at me as I sit on one of the stools at the island.

“How’s the pool?”

“Is that what you wanted to ask me?” I say flatly.

He looks up at me as he places a sandwich on a plate and pushes it toward me. “Have you heard the name Dylan Weber before?”

I blink at him a few times, wondering where Dylan’s name came up. “Yeah. He was Michael’s assistant back when he worked for Waters & Smith. But he quit a few years before Michael ran for Senate.”

“Hmm,” Dax says before taking a bite of his sandwich.

“Why do you ask?”

He swallows. “Probably nothing.”

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