Even though it’s stupid early, he shot back.
I could practically hear his mope. My kid had an attitude, but I’d be lying if I said it bothered me. The fact that he got sarcastic meant he was comfortable with me. I saw it as a good sign. For now.
I jutted out my thumbs, typing quickly. The only way you can be outside of the house past ten at night is if you come to me at the ball. It’s your choice.
I’d rather eat rats, his text read, and I broke out in a quiet laugh.
Shaking my head and still smiling, I typed, Ms. Bradbury is here. It wouldn’t be that boring.
A moment later, his text came through. Really? he asked. Have fun with that.
My eyebrows nose-dived as I wondered what the hell he meant.
??, I typed, almost afraid to know.
My phone buzzed, and I set down my drink.
I’m fourteen, not stupid, he wrote. If you like her, I’m cool with it.
What? How did…?
I dropped my hand to the bar and stood up straight, tensing.
Christian knew?
A million things ran through my head. What did he know exactly? Did anyone else at his school know? Did he see something?
And fuck! His mother.
But my main fear – my main reason – for backing off from Easton was Christian. Although I knew I couldn’t be a good father, the head of Marek Industries, a senator, and her lover and balance all of those responsibilities well, my main concern was alienating Christian forever.
But he already knew. And he was fine with it.
Still perplexed, I typed slowly, my fingers shaky. Your friends might have something to say.
He could be ostracized.
Not if they know what’s good for them, he replied, sounding cocky.
And then came another text.
I’m cool with it, Dad, he reassured me, and I smiled to myself in disbelief.
Running my hand down my face, I pulled at my collar, wishing I could figure out how to handle my personal life as well as I did business.
Clarify your goals. What do you want?
I placed my hands on the bar, bowing my head as my chest rose and fell harder by the second.
What do I want?
I pictured myself traveling to my work sites around the world, climbing the steps of Capitol Hill, accomplishing something that was supposed to be worthwhile and good for the world – and none of it held any luster.
None of it could replace her.
I clenched my fists and spun around, ready to charge over there and take her, but I stopped short, seeing Tessa standing before me.
“Dance with me?” she asked. “We haven’t really talked tonight.”
I glanced over to see Easton at the French doors, talking with her brother, when Mason Blackwell came up to them and shook her brother’s hand.
Tessa followed my gaze, and I watched as he spoke to Easton. She didn’t look like she was enjoying whatever she heard, but then he took her drink, put it down on the table, and I watched him lead her onto the dance floor.
I immediately snapped into action, brushing past Tessa, but she grabbed my arm.
“You were never photographed with her, were you?” she chastised. “Having an affair with your son’s teacher would kill your campaign, Tyler.”
I looked down at her, surprised to find that I didn’t give a shit.
“Especially one as outspoken as her,” Tessa sniped. “She’s not built for discretion.”
“But you are?” I inferred, catching her hint.
She licked her ashen pink lips with a hint of a smile on her face. “I think I’m everything you need.”
And that’s when it hit me. I had things I wanted but didn’t need and things I needed but didn’t want.
There were only two things I needed and wanted at the same time: Easton and my kid.
I spun on my heel and charged onto the dance floor, heading straight for Blackwell as he started to sway with Easton.
I stepped between them, forcing him out of the way.
“I’m leaving.” I turned to Easton, telling her, “And I’m taking you with me.”
Her worried eyes turned on me, and she shook her head. “Tyler, no,” she urged, telling me I shouldn’t be doing this.
But Blackwell stepped up, reaching for her.
“Keep your hands off of her,” I warned, turning my scowl on him.
He backed off, crossing his arms over his chest. “I didn’t realize she was here with you,” he said calmly.
I was sure he was loving this, but I didn’t give a damn anymore.
I took Easton’s hand with my left and tilted her chin up with my right.
“Tyler, don’t,” she begged, looking around at whoever might be watching us.
Tessa’s voice came up behind me. “Listen to her, Tyler.”
I held Easton’s eyes, seeing the tears pool there.
“You love me,” I whispered softly enough for only her to hear.
“What’s going on?” my father interrupted, stopping his dance next to us as he and his wife looked between Easton and me with concern.
Easton searched my eyes, still worried.
“I don’t care,” I told her. “I don’t want to make trouble for you, but I don’t care about the campaign if I can’t have you. I don’t fucking care.”
Her desperate eyes pooled with more tears, and I cupped her face in both hands, caressing her cheeks.
“Aren’t you the teacher that was featured in Newsweek?” my stepmother asked, inching forward in our tight circle as dancers moved around us. “You teach at Braddock Autenberry, right?”