Page 28 of Accepted Precedent
“He’s probably monitoring the race in Florida when I told him not to,” he groans, and finally takes a step away from Evelyn, but takes her hand.
As Mick begins walking away, Evie remains rooted in place. “We’ll be there in a minute. I need to talk to Andy for a sec.”
“Of course, angel. I’ll see you out there.” He kisses her knuckles and leaves the room.
Once I’m confident he’s not within earshot, I quietly ask, “How long have you been fucking Mick?”
Chapter 15
Evelyn
“Iswear I’ve only slept with Mickey once—technically twice, if you count the day of our wedding. Sure, I’ve run into him a few times at fundraisers, but there were always other people around. He never even bothered to say hello to me.” What I don’t admit is every time I see the broody giant, I melt into a damn puddle as if the last seven years of being strangers never happened.
“Could’ve fooled me.” Andy smirks, a little dimple popping on his cheek, and I struggle to not mirror him. “Listen, I don’t know how much time we have before someone drags me out there, but if you want to date him, fuck him, whatever… go for it.”
I take his hands and sigh, “One photo, one recorded conversation, one wrong move—and it all goes up in flames. I won’t risk your career.”
“Two people I love are hurting, and Mick would be discreet. Don’t get me wrong, our occasional sex is always a good time, but you need more than a fuck buddy.”
He’s right, and my friends are in the same situation. Jaclyn is newly engaged to Christopher Blake. According to her, he’s not exactly the most selfless lover. Ileah’s been married to Tim as long as I’ve been married to Andrew. Tim has the personality of a wet blanket—passion isn’t his forte. Andy is amazing as a friend, but we’ve never had any kind of romantic spark.
How did this happen?
“You deserve more too.” I squeeze tighter. “What about you and Mick?” He shakes his head, then rests his forehead on mine. As I close my eyes, I blow out a deep breath. “He was yours first.”
“It isn’t about who came first. My only concern is he’ll fall more in love with you and won’t remain impartial when it comes to work.”
“He’s not in love with me,” I chuckle humorlessly and pull him in for a tight hug.
The Gallaghers are dangerous men—even if their big hearts are in the right place most of the time. It would be a foolish endeavor to pursue anything with Mickey. Except every time I see him or his name is mentioned, my entire body lights up like a damn fireworks show. I hate that after all this time, he still has this effect on me.
But it isn’t love.
“Agree to disagree,” Andy tuts. “But if you ever need to blow off some steam, I don’t care—as long as it’s Mick.”
“Oh, you won’t need to worry about me andDaddy.”
“I can’t believe I accidentally called him that.” His hearty laugh makes me feel lighter than I have in a while. “Old habits die hard.”
I hum in agreement. “I’m sure he misses you a hell of a lot more than he misses me.”
“Not a chance, babe.” He kisses the top of my head before releasing me. “Come on. Let’s get out there. The polls are closing soon, and I’m sure we could convince a few more people to vote for me today.”
Andy leads us out of the room, hand in hand, and the moment Mickey spots me, his eyes darken. The small, subtle flare of his nostrils sets my entire body on fire. Between Mickey’s declarations and the buzzing of a few dozen volunteers manning the phones, I’ve never felt so alive. Andrew leaves me to talk to Kristin, and with less than half an hour left, there’s no time like the present. I slide into one of the small booths of a volunteer on break, and scan the call log—they left off on Gertrude Harris. I pick up the phone, and a thrill runs through me as I press each number into the keypad. It’s been ages since I’ve been part of something bigger than myself, and the moment the phone rings, my stomach swoops.
“Hello?”
“Hello, hi, this is Evelyn Adams, calling on behalf of your?—”
“It’s a damn recording again,” she hollers to someone in the background.
“No, ma’am, I’m not a recording,” I assure her. “My husband is running for reelection, and I wanted to reach out to see if we could count on your vote.”
She pauses for a moment, then laughs to herself. “Honey, I voted for his opponent by mail a week ago. You’re wasting your time.”
I understand the sentiment, but talking to his constituents is never a waste of my time. I lower my voice, praying to all of the deities no one around me hears. “Don’t tell my husband I said this, but they are both incredible candidates. Maryland will be in good hands no matter who wins tonight.”
“You really aren’t one of those robots!” she gasps, and I can’t help my smile.
