Page 100 of Strictly Business

“Actually, we already have a cause we’ve been putting some time into,” David stops Niven before he can get started. “We’re extremely passionate about education reform.”

“We don’t want to get ahead of ourselves, Robert,” Finn adds. “We’re still a freshman company.”

Robert looks between the two men before his gaze lands on me. I hope he doesn’t notice the blush creeping into my cheeks or the sweat building on my brow. There’s a quirk in the corner of his mouth then he nods accepting whatever he believes he has figured out. “Well,” he extends his hand to David. “I look forward to seeing how you fair in the election, Dave.” He kisses the back of my hand, “Always a pleasure.”

When Robert turns to Finn, I take the chance to give him a once-over, and when my gaze finally reaches his face, his eyes bore into me. His gaze softens — a small crack in the wall — but he turns away when Robert claps him on the back.

“Is your Uncle Jack with you?” Robert asks.

“He is, c’mon, he’ll be happy to see you.” When Finn turns back to us, the crack has been reinforced, and the wall fortified. He extends his hand to David, and after a moment of hesitation, David takes it. An unspoken conversation between them before they release. Finn turns to me. “Mrs. Reed,” he says almost too politely. Warmth rises across my skin when his hand touches mine. The wall is down when his warm gaze meets mine from under his lashes, and my breath catches. He brings the back of my hand to his lips setting my body ablaze. Fire spreads across my skin as if I’m drenched in gasoline. Every touch we’ve shared flashes before me. It feels like hours until he releases my hand, and when he’s gone, I feel cold. He stands tall and takes a step back, the wall rebuilding before my eyes. “It was nice to see you again.”

David offers them both a tight-lipped smile as they walk away, but his smile begins to fail, and is replaced by a narrow-eyed glare. I touch his hand to get his attention, but he pulls away and walks outside without a word. I’m expected to follow, but right now, I want to do the opposite of what I’m expected to do. I reach for the heart charm that normally rests on my chest, but it’s not where it should be — actually, there’s nothing there. My heart drops. Then I remember why it’s not there: Cindy. Cindy is the head of David’s team, and last month, she showed up on the doorstep of David’s townhome ready to give me a makeover. The last part of that makeover just so happened to be my choice of jewelry.

“Absolutely not,” I said when she told me to take my locket off. I glared at the middle-aged woman in front of me. She drew back in shock. I’m not sure if it’s because it was the first time I had spoken since her team arrived that morning or because I told them no. I don’t think that’s a word they hear very often. I had let them poke and prod me, go through my closet before resigning to a simple navy-blue three-quarter sleeve, boat neck dress saying they’d send over a new wardrobe the next day, do my makeup three different times, and change my hair twice. I drew the line at removing my locket. “The necklace stays on.”

“It doesn’t go with the outfit.”

“It goes just fine.”

“Michaela.”

“Cindy.”

We were at a stalemate.

Cindy and I have been like oil and water, but I guess that’s my fault. Under normal circumstances, I’m sure she is a nice person and very helpful to the wives of future politicians who need a little help. Bless her heart, I couldn’t do what she does, but I don’t need her help. I’ve spent the past ten years around the Villa family, I think I can hold my own. That doesn’t seem to matter because she has taken a particular interest in me since the Barnes Christmas party two months ago.

“David, please speak to your wife,” Cindy called over her shoulder and David appeared from the kitchen.

“Michaela, whatever it is, just do it,” David said without looking up from his phone. “Don’t be so difficult.”

“David, it’s my locket, I never—”

“It’s only a necklace. It’s not that big of a deal.” He waved me off continuing to stare down at his phone. Not that big of a deal? This was the same necklace I’d worn every day since I turned eighteen — a gift from my family. He knew that.

Cindy smiled triumphantly. She stuck her hand out in anticipation. As much as I wanted to argue the topic more, I didn’t. My hands trembled as I undid the clasp and laid it in her palm. My heart leaped when she tossed it to one of her assistants. She tousled my hair lightly, letting a few pieces hang over my shoulders. When she is satisfied, she took a small step back so I could look at myself in the floor-length mirror they had brought with them. My fingers grazed across the skin where the locket should be, and my throat tightened. “See, doesn’t that look better?” Cindy beamed behind me, proud of her work. “Now, you look like a congressman’s wife.” I barely recognized the woman in the mirror.

I may look like a congressman’s wife, but it’s not how I feel. Every time I walk out of the house, I feel like I’m just playing a part, checking a box for David’s campaign. My nails trace the skin where my locket should be as my eyes scan the room for Royal Blue, but don’t find him. There’s no sign of him amongst the colors of love that fill the room to the brim. If it weren’t for the glare of the man standing by the door, I might think the last ten minutes were just a figment of my imagination. David beckons me, and I take a deep breath before heading towards the choice I made.

Chapter Fifty-Four

MICHAELA

STANDING AT THE KITCHEN sink, I scrub the remnants of my coffee from the mug. There’s a heavy weight on my shoulders that I haven’t been able to shake — not surprising since there hasn’t been a single moment of peace since joining the campaign trail in January. The last three months have been a blur of luncheons, dinners, parties, flights, and campaign stops. “Get used to it,” Cindy said earlier when we got into the car. We spent most of the day outside the polls talking to voters — shaking hands, kissing babies, that kind of thing. “When we win this, you’ll always have somewhere to be,” her words made me sick to my stomach. This wasn’t what I wanted. Now, I didn’t have a choice. I reached for my neck but found it empty. Instead, my fingers tugged on the neck of the dress staring out the window. Where one would expect their husband to offer a reassuring hand-hold or leg squeeze, I got nothing. David remained securely in his space with his nose in his phone.

That’s how it’s been. I might be standing next to him physically, but mentally he is somewhere else entirely. I’m an accessory to toss into his drawer when the night is over. When I’m not on his arm, I’m expected to be at the club with the other wives or doing something philanthropical (is that even a word?). That’s how he prefers it — when I’m not there — unless there is an event, I’ve barely seen him. Last night was our first chance in a month to have some alone time, but what did he do instead? Run off to the office. We should be embracing the opportunity to be alone together.

Tonight is the primaries. I don’t understand why, but they’re treating this like the general election. His parents (Helen) are hosting a small party for the staff while we await the results — even though we know he’s going to win. According to Cindy, we won’t get much time alone once he’s elected (surely, it can’t get worse than it already is). Oh, don’t worry, he will be, she said when I questioned what if he didn’t win. The thought terrifies me. Despite whatever plan they might have cooked up, David is well-liked in his hometown community. I know he’ll be elected. David winning the election means I become a congressman’s wife.

Congressman.

I don’t know that I’m cut out to be a congressman’s wife.

I didn’t want this. I don’t want this. I didn’t sign up to be a politician’s wife… Running for office isn’t the kind of thing you decide on a whim, which means David knew about this when we ran into each other in Brooklyn. He knew when he asked me for a second chance. I can (almost) guarantee he didn’t tell me this was part of the plan because he knew I’d say no. Immediately, the answer would have been no.

“You ready?” David walks into the kitchen fiddling with his cufflinks, and I have to do a double-take. He’s dressed in the freshly tailored suit that arrived this morning, but he had left it in the garment bag and tucked it safely in the closet until now. The royal blue color reminds me of Finn. My coffee starts to creep its way back up my throat.

“I can’t do this.” I barely register the words, but as soon as I say them, the weight lifts off my shoulders.

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