Page 75 of Accepted Precedent
“Tell who how you feel?” Mickey’s deep voice makes both of us jump. When he comes into view, I scoot over and bring Evelyn with me so he can sit next to her. “What’s going on, angel?”
Evie straightens her posture as he takes a seat next to her. “If I divorced Andrew today, and there was no political fall out, what would you want?”
He takes a moment to consider it, and a small, rare smile teases at the corner of his lips. “We’d be just like this, but kids playing in the yard—probably three or four little ones. Maybe one of those barbeque islands with steaks on the grill. I’d have to figure out how to use it myself. I would get to keep both of you, even if I have to share Andrew with Kristin.” I still, my heart stopping at the mention of her. He sighs, then continues, “Finn will have earned Ileah’s trust, and they’d come by for Sunday dinner. Jaclyn and Alex—Christopher—would join us for game night, or invite us to the White House. But we’d have dinner thatdidn’t require three different forks… Mostly, I want you two to be happy.”
Evelyn stands, then straddles Mickey, taking his face in her hands. “I don’t care that I’m legally married to Andrew—I’m yours. We all are. I didn’t need to stand in the rain to gain that clarity.” I’m not entirely sure what she’s talking about as she places his hands on her belly, but my heart swells at the sight. “I love you so much it hurts, Mick. And I promise, when all of this is over, we’re going to make sure you have all of that and more.” He slides his hands lower, gripping her ass to pull her closer. “But you have to let me go more than a day without seeing a doctor.”
“All right, love. You can gotwodays.”
Evie cups the nape of his neck with both hands, and brings his lips to hers. If that isn’t my cue, I don’t know what is; they need their moment. I slip off the swing and kiss her shoulder. “It’s time to make his dreams reality, babe.”
Chapter 32
Evelyn
FOUR MONTHS LATER
“I’m already fucking huge,” I huff, struggling with my new pregnancy leggings.
“You’re not! You’re gorgeous,” Ileah coos. “But you’re only halfway to the finish line, so you better get used to it.”
“Thanks for the reminder. What time is the reservation?”
“We’re running late, but it’d only take one little text to one of the Gallagher brothers and they’d shut down the whole restaurant for us.”
“Damn it! Don’t call in the cavalry. I’ve been dying to try this place for weeks. The last thing I want is to ruin our girlfriend time with a grumpy Irishman.”
“Okay,” she chuckles, hands lifted in surrender. “I’ll text Jaclyn. She can meet us there instead of us picking her up.”
I quickly slip on a pair of flats and check my makeup in the mirror, then we’re out the door. Thankfully, we’re only five minutes late, and my driver, Carl, announces, “Let me know five minutes before you’d like to leave and I’ll pull the car around.”As much as I hate being chauffeured, finding parking around here is always a nightmare, and I appreciate not having to walk six blocks.
We enter the new Italian restaurant and are quickly seated without issue. Every table we walk past smells amazing, making my mouth water. Kristin and Jaclyn are running a little behind, so we order bruschetta to hold us over. I’d love a glass of wine or a gin and tonic, but that won’t be happening for a very long time.
Ileah keeps glancing at the bar and I follow her line of sight. Nothing seems out of the ordinary—two women chatting, an older man reading a book, and a woman with a man in a black suit whispering. Our server arrives with water and our appetizer, and once she’s gone, Ileah asks quietly, “Does that woman look familiar?”
“Our server? Not really. Maybe she used to work at a different restaurant.”
“No, the woman at the bar with the bodyguard-looking guy.”
I squint, but can’t make out her features from this far away. “Not really.” She sips her water but doesn’t take her eyes off the woman. “Want me to go say hello and introduce myself?”
“No,” she laughs softly. “I recognize her, but can’t place where I know her from.”
I shrug and take a large piece of bruschetta, then slice it in half on my bread plate. “I should make a sourdough baguette next weekend,” I muse, mostly to myself. After a hearty bite, I wipe my mouth and ask, “How is polling looking in Sussex County?”
“Not great. Kristin is confident we can flip it, but I’m not so sure.” She’s about to say something else, but her eyes light up and a smile I haven’t seen in a while splits her face. “Jaclyn!”
Glancing behind me, she’s practically sprinting toward us, with Kristin not attempting to keep up. I slide out of the booth and wrap Jaclyn in a tight hug before she takes a seat next to Ileah.
Kristen sits next to me and groans, “Parking was a nightmare.”
“I’m sorry,” I wince. “We should’ve picked you up, but I was running behind and worried we’d lose our table.”
“It’s fine, but I’m ordering a whiskey, and your boyfriend can figure out how to get my car home.”
Eyes wide, I freeze. Jaclyn and Ileah wear a similar expression, and I quickly laugh it off. “She’s kidding. We just joke that I, um, have a fictional boyfriend who pays for everything. Inside joke.”
“Fictional… right,” Ileah snickers.
