“The pipeline.”
“Yeah, among other things. She said I lied to her.”
“Which technically, you did.”
“There was nothing technical about the connection we had before I left for Antarctica. I intended to tell her when I came back, but Dad’s daring rescue got so much air time and outed me on every news outlet before I could explain.”
“So you gave up?”
“Not exactly,” I say defensively. “I put things on hold.”
“For what . . . a decade?” he asks with a frown. “Amsterdam was like ten years ago, wasn’t it?”
“Look, she sent me away. I tried and she turned me down. She had shit to do and so did I. Neither of us were ready to stop what we were doing.” I shrug. “Maybe she made the right call. I can’t even imagine managing a long-distance relationship considering what the last ten years of my life have been.”
I’ve been planning this for some time. Events coalesced perfectly—Kimba and Lennix opening their political consulting firm, Owen following through on his precious ten-year plan for the presidency, and me hitting my milestones, allowing me a little room to breathe for the first time in years.
“And now you’ve decided you want her so it’s time?” Owen asks, skepticism in his expression. “And she should just fall in line with your wishes?”
“I think she’ll wish it, too. Or at least she will once I remind her.” I smile slow and wide. “We couldn’t keep our hands off each other.”
“Spare me the details, brother,” he says with a disgusted grimace “I don’t need the complications of your love life screwing things up for me. I just want her expertise.”
“You can have her expertise.” I toss back another much-needed swig of my bourbon. “I want everything else.”
36
Lennix
“This worked out perfectly,” I say, grabbing my luggage from the conveyor belt.
“Yeah, you know I hate traveling alone,” Wallace says, grabbing his, too.
“I made it to the rally in Queens.”
“And I made my keynote speech at the conference.”
“And we both got to see the baby.” I turn heart-eyes his way. “Madison is the most adorable baby ever. She has your eyes. Vivienne’s eyes.”
“And Stephen’s red hair. Mom doesn’t know what to do with herself. She’s just glad one of her kids has reproduced.” He playfully nudges me as we make our way out of Reagan International and into the crisp fall air. “She was counting on you to marry me and give her grandbabies.” He laughs when I cross my eyes and poke my tongue out at him. “You ruined everything breaking up with me.”
“What would have ruined everything,” I say, craning my neck to see if I spot the car Karla sent for us, “is divorcing after like three months and making it hella awkward with my best friend.”
“I thought I was your best friend. That was my only consolation when you ended things.”
“Of course you are.” I pat his hand reassuringly. “Just don’t tell Viv and Kimba, ’kay? It’ll be our little secret.”
“There’s the car.” He points toward a waiting Lincoln Aviator.
We settle into the back seat and I just want to close my eyes for a few minutes, but of course, Wallace keeps up a constant stream of chatter.
“I thought biochemist types were supposed to be introverted, withdrawn creatures,” I say, faking exasperation . . . kind of. “You’re yammering like a chick at a sleepover, Wall.”
“Is that why you dumped me?”
“I broke it off,” I correct deliberately. “Because the sex was weird.” I say it to shock him, but it’s the truth. I can barely suppress my grin.
“Ah, yes. Now I remember,” he says, tongue in his cheek. “You said it felt like kissing your foster step-cousin.”
Our laughter bubbles over at the same time and fills the car. It feels good to laugh as hard as I do when I’m with Wallace. If only the sex hadn’t been weird and I hadn’t cared too much to let him settle for someone who didn’t want him the way he deserved.
“You dodged a bullet, baby.” I give him a quick peck on the cheek.
“Is that what you’re doing by not taking on Owen Cade?” he asks. “Dodging bullets?”
I regret telling him everything. He knows my history with Maxim, since Vivienne warned her big brother off dating me. She said I was rebounding from a guy I met in Amsterdam. It had been months by then, so I’d assumed she was wrong.
She wasn’t.
I’m just glad Wallace and I only dated a few months and I didn’t waste any more of his time. Just long enough to know we were better as friends. He did have the unfortunate honor of being my second lover, and Maxim was a hard act to follow. I don’t think anyone could have satisfied me right after being with him. I needed the effect he had on my body to fade, and it wouldn’t. As much as I hate admitting it, Maxim left an imprint on me, and other hands felt wrong. No one else inside me fit the same, felt the same.
“You’re gonna miss the opportunity of a lifetime to avoid some guy you slept with for only a week ten years ago?” Wallace scoffs. “You’re better than that. Smarter than that. Too ambitious for that.”
“Speaking of ambition,” I say, smoothly pointing the finger away from me. “Congrats on this promotion. Kimba and I love having you here in DC now.”
“I’ve always wanted my own research team,” Wallace grins. “but I didn’t expect to have it for years. I’m pretty stoked about this opportunity with CamTech. Moving closer to you guys was a bonus for sure.”
“Good things happen when you’re brilliant and work hard.”
He shrugs off my praise with a lift of his shoulders and a modest smile. “Whatever. Now stop distracting me with flattery. Back to you and Maxim Cade.”
Ugh. It was worth a try.
“There is no me and Maxim Cade.”
“Sounds like avoidance. What does your therapist say?”
I release a two-ton sigh. “I haven’t talked to her about it. I will. I just . . .”
“You just what, baby girl?” He pulls my head down onto his shoulder. “Go on. Tell foster step-cousin Wally all about it.”
I snort-laugh and turn my face into the comforting scent of his sweater. “He lied to me,” I say, and I hate that hearing it still makes me a little sad. “And he played me for a fool.”
“Did he really, Lenny?” Wall kisses the top of my head. “Or do you tell yourself that so you won’t have to deal with how he made you feel? Maybe still could make you feel?”
My head pops up and I stare at him in the thin illumination lent by the city’s bright lights passing outside the car window.
“Not you, too,” I say, making a disgusted sound in my throat. “You sound like my therapist. And Mena.”
“I think maybe they’re both right.” Wallace searches my eyes, a concerned frown on his dear face. “There’s some part of you that’s afraid to trust happiness because of what happened with your mom.”
“It’s not happiness I don’t trust. It’s him. And his lies. He made a fool of me.”