Page 73 of Tate
She met him on a night like any other
Dressed in white, the cape of a soldier
He said you’re pretty, but I can’t stay
She said I know, but I could love you anyway…
The Belles’ song.
He may have recognized it too because he looked over at her. “It’s a great song, but it’s a bad mix for our event.” He kissed her hand and headed down the stairs.
Maybeshewas a bad mix for the event. Because suddenly she just wanted to go downstairs, kick off these stupid shoes, hike up her dress, and two-step. Or better yet, take the stage and belt out the chorus.
But you don’t know if you don’t start
So wait…for one true heart…one true heart…
And then, strangely, her eyes were filling, burning…
She needed air. Because yes, she cared about her mother and the election and the team, but…she just needed a moment to breathe.
To catch up to where her life seemed to be careening off to.
She turned and spotted Rags standing a few feet away. Something on her face must have alerted him because he frowned and took a step toward her.
Sloan stepped between them. “Okay, I think we got it settled. They’re going to wait until cocktail hour is over before they start the music. I told them we’d pay for another round of drinks for their guests.”
“That’s pretty expensive.”
“Your mother needs a night without complications.”
He might have been referring to the shots fired at her last event—Glo didn’t know, but she couldn’t agree more. “I don’t feel well, Sloan. I’m going to go home.”
He frowned, caught her elbow. “Are you sure? Your mother could sure use you tonight.”
“For what…campaign candy?” She felt a little weird saying it, especially when Sloan grinned, lifted a shoulder.
Yeah, now she really was starting to feel ill. “I’ll have Rags take me home.”
“Who?”
She gestured to the man standing a foot away behind him.
Sloan’s mouth tightened.
“But we do need to talk, Sloan. I…”
“I’ll call you after the event.”
“Maybe you could come over?”
He was looking over the top of her head. But his focus came back to her, briefly, with a nod. “Yeah, sure. I’ll see you afterward.” Then, before she could pull away, he kissed hercheek, something quick but definitely public before he let her go. “Feel better.”
Yes, she would, after they talked. After she told him that they needed to slow down. As in stop. Maybe reassess.
Figure out who she was, what she wanted.
Oh, how she wished it were Tate lending her his arm down the stairs, leading her to the limo.
