Page 93 of Someone to Tempt
Of course it is, I want to tell her. But with everything on the line, I can’t shake the doubt creeping in.
At the start of my campaign for fun—Sloane’s bucket list challenge—I was no more ready to commit to this town for the long run than I’m ready to put my heart on the line for a chance at a future with Jake. Is he part of my future or just another reminder of who I’ve always been? I know that if I want to be treated differently, I have tobedifferent. A new version of myself. I just don’t know who she is quite yet.
“I don’t know,” I admit, my voice trembling. “I don’t know what I want. But I appreciate hearing this from you.”
“It’s not fair, Iris.” She shakes her head. “You had to live down your mom’s reputation. Now you’re paying a hefty price for the mistake with Robert Wilhelm, while the cheater gets off easy. It’s not fair,” she repeats.
“It’s not,” I agree. “But he has to live with himself—and his wife.”
“Although I’m not a fan of revenge,” she says evenly, “I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted it.”
“Did the party ask you to gauge whether or not I’m going to come out of the woodwork down the road to try to ruin him?”
She sighs. “Maybe, but this is me telling you as a friend that you need to do what’s best for you.”
“Hurting Robert won’t help me.”
“Then figure out what you want. Not what the committee, Governor Wilhelm, or even this town expects from you.” She leans across the desk and pats my hand. “Decide for yourself, Iris.”
She’s right. It’s past time for me to decide. Yes, I’ve made mistakes, but I’m no longer hiding.
“I’ll see you later at class,” she says as she stands.
“Sure, see you later.”
After she leaves, I turn and stare out the window at the view of the town square I’ve come to love, waiting for the tears to come. Ever since I popped my crying cherry, I get emotional at everything. But my eyes remain stubbornly dry.
Maybe that’s a good sign. I’m returning to being numb—my method of choice to keep the world at bay. My mother’s chaos taught me early that feelings are just weapons waiting to be used against me. Emotional distance helped me stay in control even when I was barely holding on.
But I’m damn sick of this white-knuckled grasp. I’m sick of everything at this point.
I scribble a note to Jodi explaining I’m sick and need to take the rest of the day off. The nice thing about old-school communication is I don’t have to worry about her text reply or follow-up questions.
I pick up my order from the sign shop, forcing a genuine smile when the owner tells me he appreciates my commitment to small business. “You’ve got my vote,” the man says, holding up his palm for a high five. I give it to him, then place the signs in the back of my car, knowing they’ll never see the light of day.
Once home, I quickly change into sweatpants and a sweatshirt. If my brother weren’t staying with me, I’d take my bra off too, but out of respect for him, I leave it on.
Keeping up the “I’m sick” ruse, I text Char and Jake that I won’t be able to make the class this afternoon. Jake immediately responds that he can bring chicken soup or whatever I need, and as tempting as it is—because I need a hug—I decline.
Instead, I curl up on the sofa to finish the final chapters ofAbsolute Determination, wishing I had half the guts of Ellie Spaulding. She wouldn’t let anyone push her around or run her out of the life she wanted. Maybe it would be easier if I truly knew I wanted the dreams I’m chasing—an election, a career in politics.
All I know is that this place feels like home. Jake feels like home. And I desperately want a home.
Nick walks through the front door two hours later. One look at me on the couch and he shakes his head. “Jake came into the cafe this afternoon and told me you’re sick. He said I need to check your vitals and then get back to him.”
“How’s this for a vital?” I ask as I flip him the bird.
“Right.” He gives me a thumbs up. “I’ll let him know you’re good to go. Do you need me to open a bottle of wine?”
I place the book on the coffee table. “Nick, I cleared out every ounce of alcohol in my house the morning after you got here.”
He nods. “I noticed that and appreciate it, but I figured you kept a secret stash. Most people do.”
“Secrets have gotten me nowhere, so no stash.” I straighten a little bit. “But I have a carton of vanilla ice cream, frozen strawberries, and a great blender.”
“Milkshakes coming up.”
“I’ll text Jake and let him know I’m doing okay.”
