Page 26 of Capitally Engaged

As I slid into the car and set off for the airport, I realized I might have more than one thing to look forward to when I returned.

Chapter

Eleven

Jax

I lay still on the bed in the dark, waiting for the sound of the door closing behind Preston as he left for his trip. Our conversation from a few hours ago echoed in my mind. I couldn’t remember the last time I willingly told someone about my parents dying. Preston respected the boundaries I erected all week, but something in the way he confessed his trouble sleeping before trips felt like an olive branch. I couldn’t decide if what I felt at his departure was relief or sadness.

I threw the covers off the bed, grabbing my laptop, and made my way to the couch. The timing of Preston’s trip couldn’t be better. This book was due to my editor on Wednesday, and it needed work. My alpha readers, people I met online who only knew my pen name and not my face, mentioned they found the emotional connection between the two heroines lacking. Considering how much of this book had been scramble written under the cover of darkness while I listened to Preston snore softly just feet away, I wasn’t terribly surprised. One of the hardest things about being an author sometimes was steppingoutside yourself and not projecting on the pages how you felt at a given time.

With my computer in my lap, I dug into my manuscript. The light pouring in from the windows signaled several hours had passed without my notice. I stood up and stretched, realizing I was truly alone, and comfortable, in an apartment for the first time in a long time. Sure, other places I’d stayed emptied out when roommates traveled, but this was different

As a longtime subletter, I felt wanted in a place for the first time in years. More than Preston making room for my stuff when I moved in last week, he checked in on me, consciously or not. The combined grocery run put more food at my fingertips than I’d had in a long time. He clearly didn’t know a FODMAP diet from a nutrition pyramid, but gamely asked me what I often ate for dinner, and adjusted accordingly. He made sure I ate all three meals, because we were together morning, noon, and night. I couldn’t remember the last time I ate on such a regular schedule.

And if Preston noticed my occasional longer-than-normal bathroom trips, he didn’t comment on them, just like he gamely used the bathroom spray I added to the back of the toilet each time he used the facilities too. If you were in Preston Brandt’s orbit, he looked out for you. That’s just the guy he was.

I made a promise to myself that I would try to keep up the habits of eating real food throughout the weekend. Per usual for this point in revisions though, my writing took over, and I ended up ordering delivery all weekend. By Monday morning, my book felt like less of a mess, but my stomach couldn’t say the same.

“Morning, Jax,” Laurel greeted me as I walked into the office that morning.

“Morning, Laurel,” I responded. “Have a good weekend?”

“Not too bad. My cousin just moved to the city for a new job, so Caitlin and I helped her move. We discovered a fantastichappy hour just down the block from her place though. You’ll have to come with us some time. No offense, but you look like you could use a margarita.”

I blanched at the thought of adding tequila to my mixed-up stomach. “I had a long weekend full of work on a personal project, that’s all.”

“Awe, not stressed because you’re missing Preston?” she teased. It was a relief to havesomeoneelse know that things with Preston and I weren’t real, but Laurel took advantage of this role at every turn.

I rolled my eyes, but then realized some truth lay in her question. “I miss his meal planning, that’s for sure,” I quipped, gripping my stomach in an exaggerated way that made Laurel laugh.

“Speaking of Preston, he’s arranged a little something for us on Thursday evening. I’m supposed to tell you to clear your schedule.”

I blinked, a little taken aback. Why wouldn’t he just tell me himself? I realized then that Preston and I hadn’t talked since he left Saturday morning. Did that make me a failure as a fake fiancée? I wasn’t sure.

“I’m not sure Thursday evening is good for me. I have this big deadline on Wednesday and...”

“It has to be Thursday,” Laurel cut me off. “The good thing about Senator Marsden and Preston being gone until then is the office will be quiet and distraction free. You’ll definitely finish anything he left you in plenty of time, maybe even be able to get ahead.”

I didn’t bother correcting her it wasn’t senatorial comms stuff I was concerned about. It seemed like there was no getting out of the mandated date night on Thursday.

“All right, Thursday. I’ve got it noted. I’d better get to it then. Those responses to the weekend talk shows aren’t going to write themselves.”

Laurel waved and got back to her own work, the phone ringing as I walked down the hallway to my desk. I sat down, turned on my computer, but pulled my phone out before getting right to work.

Jax

So Thursday? What are you up to, Brandt?

I started going through my email while I waited for him to answer.

Preston

It’s a surprise. I’ll meet you in the office at 5:45, okay? We land at DCA at 5:00. Send good travel vibes, please.

Jax

Anything I should know about a dress code?

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