Zander takes a deep breath and turns to face me square on. “I’ll explain when we get there. Just—please trust me.” His eyes tell me everything I need to know. He’s serious.
Zander drives like his life depends on it back to his house. It’s unclear to me if his anger is to blame for his lead foot or if it’s really necessary to drive fast. It could be a combination of the two. I hold the hem of my sundress down as the wind whips through the cab of his Jeep. He comes to a stop and quickly rounds the Jeep to help me out like he’s done since I first rode with him.
He takes the stairs two at a time and lets us into his house. I open my mouth to speak and Zander holds up one finger, silencing me.
“Gotta make a call first, Sadie.” He digs his cell phone from his pocket and punches the screen a few times before bringing it to his ear.
I walk over to his bar to sit and wait, watching him pace anxiously back and forth across his living room. His anxiety is feeding mine, or maybe it’s the other way around, or maybe it’s equal across the board, but my head is tumbling with all kinds of crazy scenarios. Sitting here waiting for answers is becoming more difficult by the second.
“Hey, Trav. It’s Zander. Yeah. Yeah, I know. Listen, we have an issue. You know I wouldn’t call unless it was something that needed handling.”
A long pause passes before Zander opens his mouth to speak again.
“I know. I know. But I made myself clear about security details. I don’t need them. I don’t want them down here. They showed up out of the blue and that shit isn’t acceptable. It’s probably their fault that Jeremiah Lancaster showed up. He tailed them.”
Security detail? Someone tailed someone else?
The way he’s talking has criminal activity written all over it. Another long pause. My eyes are a little wide and I stand up, walking closer to where Zander is pacing. He’s looking down talking to his feet with one hand holding the phone in place, the other resting low on his hip.
“I’m sure. With the fundraising event in a few days, I’m sure he’s digging for something good to splash all over the goddamn news.” His jaw tenses, displaying that twitching muscle. His cheeks flush a little red with obvious frustration. “You could have fucking warned me, Travis!” Zander bellows, making me flinch.
Another pause.
“He approached a friend of mine. He lied to her, saying his name was James Lancaster.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. She described him.”
“She’s—fuck.” He sighs, running one hand through his already beautifully disheveled cinnamon hair.
“She’s the wife of my donor,” he mumbles into the phone, like he’s ashamed.
He can’t possibly feel the same level of shame I’ve felt the last few days.
“I know.” He nods his head. “I don’t want her dragged into this, Travis.”
I chew on my bottom lip, doing my best to wait patiently.
“Right. Yeah. Guess I’ll see you in a couple days. Send Dumbass and his sidekick back down here, will ya? Of course they never left,” he adds sarcastically. “Right. Bye, Trav.”
Zander ends the call, tosses the phone on his couch, and runs both hands through his hair then clasps his fingers together at the nape of his neck, causing his white t-shirt to draw up enough to see a brown trail of hair disappearing into the waistband of his jeans. His blue eyes look troubled and it makes me sad for him. He’s obviously torn between telling me the truth and continuing our little friendship or whatever it is in the dark, which isn’t an option. He has to tell me what’s going on or I’m going back to Atlanta right now. I cross my arms over my chest, communicating the fact that I’m waiting.
“I’m just going to give it to you straight, okay?” he finally says, his voice so much softer than when he was on the phone.
I nod warily and wait, bracing myself for the worst.
“Daniel McBride is my father. Governor McBride. The man who you met today was a reporter who has a special penchant for putting his nose in my personal business. He’s a reporter.”
“The guys in the car?” I ask, numbly trying to play catch up.
“Security detail sent by dear old Dad himself. Security has been turned up because of the fundraising gala that my dad is hosting on Friday.”
I nod and let his confession sink in. Jake’s heart went to the Governor of Georgia’s son. I can’t believe I didn’t make the connection. I’ve heard him mentioned on the news multiple times in the past for all sorts of shit. The general consensus about Alexander McBride is that he’s a wild child who has been out of control for a long time. That’s always what I’ve heard, anyway. But Zander? He’s as calm and quiet as they come. He seems to keep to himself as far as I can tell in the eight days since our first email.
“Wow,” I mumble.