“Last night, Liv and I had dinner with her parents. I’m not sure how much you know—”
“I know,” he said.
“Okay.” I nodded, grateful Liv had such great friends. “The evening went well…for the most part.”
“Except?” he added, guessing where I was headed.
“Except for toward the end. We were finishing the evening with coffee, and just as we were about to say our good-byes, a man came to the table.”
“Who was it?”
“Someone from the local paper,” I said.
“What?”
“Now, I don’t know much about the press, but the way it all went down seemed very shady to me.”
“Tell me,” he said, leaning against the doorframe.
“The man introduced himself and said he was from the paper and that he just happened to recognize Senator Prescott from across the room. He said he was sorry to interrupt our family dinner but wished to take a picture for the social section—the paper was considering doing an article on the restaurant we were dining at. The Senator was very gracious, and of course, he complied. Liv was nervous but didn’t want to make a scene, so we all pulled in tight and smiled. Then, it was over.”
“How did he know Liv was family?” he asked.
“I honestly don’t know. Liv hasn’t been seen in public with her family for years.” Had the reporter assumed the Senator was out with family? Or had he been tipped off?
Declan shook his head. “I might be out of the game, but I know one thing. That kind of stuff doesn’t happen by accident. Everything about that scenario was set up ahead of time. I’ve seen it happen more than once in the entertainment world, like staged outings to gain momentum for a movie or show. Nothing is ever as it seems.”
“I thought so,” I said, a wave of sadness tingeing my every word. I feared the worst.
After seeing Liv’s father last night, I’d wanted so badly to believe he wanted her back in his life for no other reason than a father had missed his little girl.
But what other reason would there be for a politician to go through the trouble of setting up an elaborate photo opportunity other than to gain new voters?
I really hoped I was wrong.
Liv
“Your friends do realize that just because I’m a lawyer doesn’t mean I need fancy dinners and hand printed invitations, right?” Jackson said, holding up the ivory pearl card stock Clare had sent over.
She had invited all of us over for a black and white–themed dinner this evening.
“We could meet over pizza,” he added. “Chuck E. Cheese would be fine.”
Shaking my head, I grabbed my purse, and then I walked up to him and straightened his tie. “First thing, Chuck E. Cheese? Gross. That pizza is horrible. Secondly, Clare is pregnant, so we do whatever she says, including ridiculous dinners that require a new dress and shoes.”
His eyes appreciatively traveled the length of my body as his hand slipped around my waist. The decision to spend a little extra on the black-and-white strapless lace dress was definitely paying off.
“On second thought, I really like this idea. I’ll be sure to thank our hostess.”
“Stop that thought right there, counselor. You’re going to make us late—again.”
His voice lowered as he said, “Come on, Liv. Just give me five minutes.”
My insides tightened. Biting my lip, I looked over to check the time on the microwave.
He dropped to his knees and lifted my skirt before I even had a chance to say yes.
“We’re so late,” I said, trying to smooth down my hair for the tenth time since we’d left the house.
“You didn’t seem to mind at the time.” He chuckled, wrapping an arm around my waist. “Besides, isn’t it good to be fashionably late to these sorts of things?”
“This is going to be a disaster,” I huffed, shaking my head.
He stopped me in the middle of the walkway in front of Clare’s house, and he cupped my chin. “Hey,” he said in a soothing voice. “Why the sudden stress? I thought I took care of that.”
A smug grin tugged at the corner of his lips as he looked down at me.
“I’ve never done this before.”
“What?”
“Introduced a guy I’m dating to my friends.”
His grin widened. “Really? Never?”
“No. You’re the first.”
“Well then, I’d better use my best Southern manners,” he said, playing up his accent. “I’m going to be the last, too.”
I laughed as he held out his arm in a ridiculously formal gesture. I took it, and we walked the rest of the way to the front steps. Just as I was about to press the doorbell, the door opened, and Clare, Leah, and Mia, greeted us.
“Took you long enough,” Leah said, her black-and-white sequins dress shimmering under the lights. “We had a bet on whether or not you were going to run back to the car.”
“Oh, yeah? Who won?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at my best friends.
“Clare,” they all said.