20. Luke

Senator Wallace's residence was a sleek mansion in Westchester. The inside was all abstract art and furniture in a dull palette of grays and beige. Lightning flashed through the gauzy curtains, followed by low rumbles of thunder, currently the only evidence of the tropical storm meteorologists were predicting would reach land in a day or two.

The severe weather should have turned this fundraiser into a cozy affair. But the overall vibe remained sterile, although the room was packed with some of the most influential people in the tristate area.

I wondered how many of them had been victims of my father's blackmail schemes.

I'd also been reading up on the senator ever since Ethel and Clarita had suggested Dad had inside help when it came to acquiring permits. I already knew Senator Wallace had helped push through the Sunrise Village project and felt it safe to assume this wasn't the first time. But whether my father was hiding a flash drive full of her secrets was another question entirely—and Elijah's concern that planting car bombs was too risky given her political career was a smart one.

As mayor, she'd originally been beloved in Cape Avalon, promising to bring higher-paying jobs, to invest in affordable housing as well as environmental protections and educational programs. In the end, she'd pursued none of those campaign promises. She did, however, keep climbing the political ladder, next as lieutenant governor and now as state senator.

Her presidential campaign was only in its infancy, but that hadn't stopped the media—as well as early polls—from declaring her a popular front runner.

Elijah and I had taken up a spot in the corner when Grady Holt, her chief of staff, appeared with his eyes glued to his phone.

"The senator would like ten minutes of your time in the drawing room once she's done talking with the governor," he said.

I paused with a drink halfway to my lips. "Am I allowed to say no?"

He frowned. "Why would anyone do that?"

I indicated the shelves behind me. "Because I'm already having a fabulous time trying to figure out if pulling any of these books opens up a secret passageway."

"Find it, and we'll sue you into the fucking stratosphere."

"So there is a secret passageway."

Grady gave me a glare that was downright chilling before floating back through the crowd like a ghoul. Sylvester and the other agent had fanned out as soon as we arrived, taking up posts outside while Elijah hovered next to me, impeccable as always in his suit. Not that I'd been able to make eye contact for longer than a second without remembering that he'd agreed to help me uncover Dad's secrets…of his own fucking volition.

Then told me my cake was delicious. It was enough to give a man a permanent blush attack. I'd only tried to kiss him, writhed against his body in the dark, begged him to take me home, then baked him an apology cake.

It wasn't like I was totally head over heels for the guy or anything.

"Luke."

I startled, almost spilling my champagne. "Hmmm?"

"You're staring at me."

I let out a nervous laugh. "That's only because…because your tie is crooked, which I'm sure breaks one of your job's many rules."

Elijah didn't even look down. "It's not crooked."

"How do you know?"

"This job requires a thoroughness most people could never understand."

I smirked. "Oh yeah? Then prove it."

"I know the middle name of every single person in this room," he said, completely unfazed.

"Well, isn't that convenient," I drawled. "There's no way for me to prove that."

"Then you'll have to trust that your protection agent is better than you could ever imagine." He gave the subtlest arch of his eyebrow. "And the tie is straight."

My stomach dipped. "Unlike you and me, amirite?"

One corner of his mouth quirked up, an almost smile. I pointed at his face. "I'll say it again, but feel free to laugh at any or all of my hilarious jokes whenever you see fit. I won't report you to the bodyguard police."

He cocked his head. "Do you mean my boss?"

I shrugged. "Here's the thing about you, Elijah. I don't think you need a contract to uphold the rules of this position. I think you'd do it out of your own sense of honor."

"Ah, yes. My virtuous honor. And how goes yours? What was it…patience, chastity, and humility?"

I flashed him a wicked grin. "I spent this past week impatient, horny, and arrogant, so you tell me."

This time, he pressed his lips together and sent his focus back out to the room, probably scanning for hidden threats and dangers.

So close.

The tight leash he had on his emotions was so at odds with the man who'd pinned me to the wall of a bookstore with a feral possessiveness. Even in the midst of this party, I yearned to be on the receiving end of that renowned thoroughness. Yearned for his stern gaze to strip me bare and make me beg for it. Beg for anything, really. His kiss, his body, the sweet relief from this attraction that had dominated my every thought from the moment we met.

You couldn't handle me, Luke.

"You can ignore my hilarious jokes all you want," I managed to continue. "But I know your secret now, Elijah Knight."

His dark gaze fell to my mouth and lingered there. "What secret is that?"

"You're a sucker for a chocolate chip cookie cake baked by your best and most favorite client," I said cheerfully. "I'm not just a hot body with charming good looks. I've got marketable skills too. Maybe after I get out of this CEO gig, I'll open up a bakery catered toward rule-following protection agents who never let themselves have any fun."

"And yet those same protection agents keep you alive and safe from murder," he replied. "How interesting."

"I never said I wasn't grateful."

His eyes trapped mine. "You don't have to say it, Lucas. Your complete disregard for your own safety is the only thanks I'll ever need."

I laughed into my champagne flute. Then lowered my voice to a whisper. "Speaking of disregarding my own safety, I'd still like to take a drive out to the wetlands, preferably tomorrow as long as the storm holds off. My hope is we catch Clarence off guard. Startle him into spilling what he knows about my dad, if he's the one targeting us right now."

A muscle ticked in Elijah's jaw. But before he could reply, Grady appeared again.

"It's time," he said. "Please come with me."

Elijah and I shared a look as we followed Grady past the jazz trio and the grand piano. And once we entered the senator's drawing room, there was something about the way she sized me up that had me extra-grateful for my bodyguard. Grady pulled the doors shut behind us, closing us into a room that rivaled my father's library in size.

Senator Wallace stood by a large picture window framed on both sides by heavy velvet curtains.

"So lovely to see you again, Lucas," she said warmly, shaking my hand tightly. "Can Grady get you something to drink? Bourbon? Wine? More champagne?"

"I'll never say no to bourbon."

Her eyes darted behind me, passing along a wordless command to her chief of staff. While he busied himself at the small bar, she considered me with a pointed curiosity that sent a shiver down my spine.

"Thank you again for coming tonight," she said. "I could always count on your father for campaign support. I hope to rely on you as well."

I exchanged my empty champagne glass for the highball from Grady and raised it her way. "My father and I were nothing alike. So I can't say what I'll do yet. No offense or anything."

Her polite smile froze in place. "None taken. I understand it's been quite the adjustment for you since his passing. It's why I'm not too frustrated about the Sunrise Village delays. Though your father would have squashed those protests within the first few fragile hours. Like stomping out a campfire before you turn in for the night. Can't let any stray embers out that could start trouble."

I rattled the ice in my drink. "That's a weird way to describe people who lost their homes. Aren't they your constituents?"

"I have many constituents. But you can imagine that part of my job is balancing the needs of the few against the needs of the many. As sad as it is, the residents of Sunrise Village are the few. That's why TBG needs to break ground as soon as possible. You must understand that every passing day brings worse news coverage, smearing a project I personally put my weight behind."

I raised an eyebrow. "You mean those permits you got my dad through whatever unethical bureaucratic fast-track program you operate on the side?"

Grady was still typing away on his phone with a mildly annoyed expression. But Senator Wallace leaned in with a sympathetic pinch to her mouth that felt very fake. "You're new to this, so I say this with kindness. Don't talk about things you don't understand. And it won't hurt you to recall that I fought for people like you. I don't particularly enjoy whatever you think you're cleverly insinuating."

It took me a moment to realize what she was saying. When I did, I scowled into my drink.

"Oh, I get it now," I drawled. "You tossed queer people a few legislative breadcrumbs. So in return I help you bulldoze a community?" I snapped my fingers. "That's what queer liberation is all about. Kicking people out of their homes to make way for luxury housing that we don't need. I missed that lesson in my Bisexuality 101 class."

My sarcasm landed with a thud in the middle of her elegant drawing room. Even Grady paused, mid-type, to peer up at me with a darkening expression.

The senator's eyes tightened at the corners, but she kept her cool. "There's a reason why Lincoln left the company to you. You don't see it, but I do."

"Care to enlighten me? I don't have a fucking clue."

She angled her body closer. "I believe that you, Lucas Beaumont, know more than you're letting on."

"Know more about what?"

"Your father and I knew each other for more than forty years," she said smoothly. "He always had my back, and I always had his. There's nothing inherently wrong or unethical about partnership. In the end, we both worked for the people of Cape Avalon, for the Hamptons. We could continue that tradition, you and me. I'm sure your father spoke to you about our collaboration?"

All the hair on the back of my neck stood up. I heard Elijah shifting on his feet behind me.

"He didn't talk to me about anything," I admitted.

Now I had Grady and the senator studying me like a pair of velociraptors, tails twitching and heads cocked.

"You're not a very good liar, Lucas," she said softly. "But until you wise up to what I'm offering, let me be perfectly clear—break ground on Sunrise Village or I'll find a way to make sure your company never builds a damn thing ever again."

I reared back, stunned. So stunned that I blurted out, "It was you, wasn't it? With the car bomb?"

But this time it was the senator's turn to look absolutely stunned. "I beg your pardon?"

Elijah cleared his throat behind me, but I ignored his admonishment. "Did you try and have me killed, Senator Wallace? Or, at the very least, aggressively intimidate me with a car bomb at the adventure park?"

Her burst of surprised laughter felt like the most authentic reaction I'd gotten all night. My stomach dropped, especially as I watched Grady go back to frantic emailing on his phone with a barely concealed smirk.

"I've been falsely accused of many things in my time in office, Lucas, but that is by far the most outlandish," she said, brushing a piece of lint from her suit. "No, I did not try to have you killed. And if you won't listen to my first warning, here's a second one." Her smile turned venomous. "Falsely accuse me of murder ever again and I'll sue you so fast your head will spin." Then she stepped back, revealing her politician's smile yet again. "Now please do enjoy some light refreshments in the foyer."

It took me so long to react that Elijah had to lead me by the elbow back out into the stilted conversation and soft jazz piano. As soon as we were alone, I said, "Quick question, what the fuck was that?"

"Don't know. Didn't like it though."

"Cool, me neither," I said. "Let's get the hell?—"

A tall man with a wiry build slid between the two of us, spinning on his heel when he seemed to recognize me. He appeared to be in his fifties, good-looking in a plastic surgery kind of way, and his whole face lit up when we made eye contact.

"Lucas Beaumont?" he said, taking my hand before I could offer it. "Lincoln's son?"

"Uh…yep. That's me." I pulled back my hand and slipped it into my pocket. "Can I…help you?"

He touched the middle of his forehead. "Right, yes, you wouldn't recognize me. I've had quite a bit of work done since the years when I knew your father so well. I was distraught when I heard of his passing. In fact, we saw each other often at Senator Wallace's events. I'm a significant donor, myself."

I nodded slowly. "Neat."

"We met when he built my second home for me," the man continued. "A beachfront condo near Cape Avalon. Now, it didn't turn out quite like I'd hoped but?—"

"Hey, I'm not trying to be rude," I said, "but I was just about to leave."

His face brightened again. "Oh, but you can't leave yet. I came here to see you."

"Me? Why?"

"Why?"A dangerous gleam appeared in his eyes. "I'm here to kill you."