Stephanie Feagan - Run For The Money

“It would be easy to call people I know at the FBI, explain that I believe in your innocence, maybe even stretch the truth and say we’re engaged, that they need to ignore the evidence they have and look for someone else. They’d do it, and eventually find whoever did this to you. If it comes down to it, Pink, that’s exactly what I’ll do. But for the time being, I don’t want to abuse my position. I think, between me and Dad and Ed, and to some extent your mother, we can find who we’re looking for.”

His voice got quieter and I strained to hear him.

“I don’t want you to think I don’t care, or that this job means more to me than you. Nothing could be further from the truth. But until I’m in a corner, until it’s a last resort, I don’t want to pull rank. Do you understand?”

I mumbled an affirmative, my throat way too choked up to speak.

“As for staying here, you’ll have your own room, and you can come and go as you please. I just ask that you take Bill, the driver. He’s a nice guy, and he won’t get in your way. Since your mom’s lost the contract with CERF and you’re technically unemployed for a while, I know you’ll want to take part in hunting down the embezzler. If the opportunity presents itself, great, but as an attorney, I’ll tell you that the worst thing you can do is go out there and dig on your own. All it will do is make you look more guilty.”

Finally, he looked over his shoulder at me, his dark eyes filled with worry and an odd sadness. “You’re a woman who wants to do it all by yourself, but this time, you can’t. You’re going to have to trust me and Ed to do it for you.”

I sat there in that beautifully decorated room and wondered what amazing thing I’d done in my life to deserve a man like Steve.

“I don’t want you involved in this. Not in any way beyond me staying here, and it seems to me I can maybe do that without anyone knowing. I can come and go as a maid, or in the backseat of a limo.”

“I don’t care if anyone knows you’re staying here.”

“You should.”

“So you’ll stay?”

“If you’ll carry on as usual and not get involved with looking for the bastard who set me up.”

He turned then and looked at me, and I know he lied when he said, “It’s a deal.”

I nodded as though I believed him, and immediately began planning to leave, to get as far away from him as possible. Because I knew if I didn’t, he’d hang himself in the political world, and no matter my feelings for him, I kinda thought I owed it to my country. Steve Santorelli needed to be the next president. It was my patriotic duty to get out of his life.

On that note, with an awkward, uncomfortable, sexually charged tension still hanging in the air, Steve left the room without another word, Natasha at his heels.

I got dressed and picked at the food. Mom came in and we watched TV, which made me all weepy because she wanted to watch The American President, and I was reminded of Steve’s wife, Lauren, and how much he loved her, and how amazing she’d been. Lauren made a difference in the world. She was beautiful and polished, the perfect politician’s wife. I’d bet everything I owned that she never would have been involved with two men at the same time. She was a nice girl.

And I wondered all over again, what did Steve see in me? Because I was the polar opposite of beautiful, perfect Lauren Santorelli. I wasn’t a very nice girl.

Later, after Mom went off to her own room and I drifted back to sleep, I was awoken by a strange noise. I sat up in bed and realized someone was in the room with me. “Steve?”

“No, it’s Lou,” came a husky whisper. “Pink, don’t go off on me—I need you to be very quiet.”

I glanced at the lighted alarm clock. It was just past three o’clock in the morning. “What is it?”

He sat on the bed, his weight throwing me off balance so that I had to draw my knees up.

“I’m a farmer, you know. Our family owns and operates the largest privately owned farming operation in California. I spend a lot of time looking after things, but I also spend some of my time doing…other things.”

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