Page 9 of Anything For This Love

A soft smile tugs at my lips. “Me too.”

A few minutes later, a tall, nicely dressed man with salt and pepper hair approaches our table with a boisterous greeting. “Jacob Daniels! How are you, son?”

Jacob stands and shakes the man’s hand. “I’m good, sir. How are you?”

“Great! Finally got a night out with the missus. Was on my way to the men’s room and spotted you. Thought I’d stop and say hi. How’s your dad? I didn’t make it to our monthly poker game the other night.”

Jacob’s features tighten for a moment and he forces a smile.I wonder what that’s all about.

“Other than trying to keep his blood pressure down, he’s doing just fine,” he replies jokingly.

The older gentleman lets out a hearty laugh and presses a hand to his chest. “Aren’t we all these days?”

“Congressman Mitchell, this is my girlfriend, Abby.” He motions to me and the man turns his attention my way.

“It’s nice to meet you, young lady.” He takes my hand for a shake, cradling it gently in his giant paw. The man’s hand is bigger than my head.

“Nice to meet you, too.”

“I better be on my way. If I’m gone too long, Judy will send a search party out after me,” he chuckles and pats Jacob on the back.

Jacob returns to his chair and begins to tell me all about the congressman. He’s been friends with Jacob’s father for years and he’s known him since childhood. Suddenly an uneasy feeling creeps up my spine as he speaks and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. The sensation that I’m being watched is so overwhelming, I turn my head to see who it is. I look first over my right shoulder then my left, scanning my surroundings. Jacob’s voice falls away as I search through a sea of faces.

“What’s wrong?” Jacob asks, touching the back of my hand. I startle and whip my head back around to him.

“Nothing,” I reply automatically. “It just felt like someone was watching me.” His features shift and his spine straightens. He glances around, his gaze sweeping from one side of the room to the other. I begin to relax, comforted that he takes my concerns seriously and isn’t brushing them off.

“Nothing seems amiss, but if you’re uncomfortable we can leave.” He reaches a comforting hand out to me and laces our fingers together.

I shake my head, unwilling to ruin our night with something so silly. I’ve experienced the odd sensation a few times over the last couple months, but nothing has ever come of it. Even though it’s uncomfortable, I’m kind of relieved it’s happening here, too. I was starting to think I had a stalker back home. It must just be stress. A lot has happened since Jacob returned to our lives in September.

“No, it’s fine. I don’t want to-”

The click of a camera shutter effectively cuts me off. I turn toward the direction of the sound and catch a man lowering his camera inconspicuously.

“What the hell?” Jacob’s gaze follows mine to the man and a low curse leaves his mouth. When I look at him, his jaw is clenched tightly and his nostrils are flared. I turn back around and see the man smirk and stand, slipping quickly from his seat and out of the restaurant. He’s gone before either of us can make a move.

“Fucking paparazzi,” Jacob mutters angrily. He flags down our waitress and asks her to get the manager.

“I’m sorry. Is there something wrong?” Her eyes widen and her brow creases with worry.

“No, just get him,” he barks out and scrubs a hand over his face in frustration. She scurries off, the manager taking her spot a moment later.

“Mr. Daniels, what can I do for you?”

“There was a man here,” he begins, motioning to the table the creep with the camera just vacated, “taking pictures of us.”

The manager’s face morphs, irritation replacing the guarded apprehension with which he’d approached our table. “My apologies, sir. We take our patrons’ privacy very seriously and we want you to feel comfortable dining with us. I’ll have my team review the security footage to see if we can identify him and he will no longer be permitted to enter this establishment.”

Jacob nods, dismissing the man before returning his focus to me. “I’m sorry about that.”

Before he can say more, the burning question that’s been hanging on the tip of my tongue rushes out. “Why would somebody want to take pictures of us?”

He releases a defeated sigh and folds his hands over the table. “The press goes a little crazy around this time of year because of the election. Everyone is expecting my dad to announce his candidacy for President. The primaries aren’t that far away, and several candidates have already started campaigning. It’s driving the press nuts that he won’t announce one way or the other.”

“Why hasn’t he?”

“I don’t think he wants it. At least not right now. With everything going on with my mother, he doesn’t want to drag our family through something as big and widely covered as a presidential election. If anyone finds out they’re living separately, they’ll try to figure out why and potentially rip our family to shreds.”

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