Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82973 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82973 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Was he serious? “I’m one of those girls who can’t watch gore, like, ever.”
“Then we can’t get married,” he quipped as he dug into his frittata.
She raised a brow at him. “I didn’t know that was an option.”
“Well, you’re cute, and you don’t take me too seriously.”
“How can I?” She grinned back, picking at her food.
Nash shoveled in a big bite, then groaned. “But you can fucking cook. How did you make this taste so damn good?”
“Ever think maybe you’ve been eating too much Taco Bell?”
“Hey, don’t diss my Nachos BellGrande.”
She smiled. “You’re funny. And sweet. Some woman is going to snap you up someday.”
“Hmm, not really interested in being collected and shoved in anyone’s purse.”
“Not even Haisley?”
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m all about her. I would love to take her to bed over and over. A lot. But…relationships? I’m not super into those.”
“Mind if I ask why?”
“You don’t seem marriage-minded these days…”
“I married the wrong person for the wrong reasons.” And she was suffering the consequences.
“Well, I grew up in the middle of eight kids. Since marriage usually leads to children, I’m not hot to jump on that train.”
Madison blinked. “I had no idea. That sounds like a lot.”
“Total chaos, especially since I have five sisters. Did I mention that everyone, including my parents, all shared one bathroom?”
Madison winced. “Yikes.”
“Yeah. Why don’t I stop talking and flip channels while you eat? If I stumble on some show you want to watch, holler.”
“Okay.” She forked in a bite for appearance’s sake.
He surfed from the movie streaming service she’d been watching, breezing through lists of sporting events, cooking competitions, home decorating, travel shows, and other leisure pursuits. But it all looked dull and canned and ridiculous in the face of her very real problems. She wished her only issue was whether to paint the walls blue or if her pasta was appropriately al dente.
Suddenly, Winston Pershing’s face filled the screen. Her whole body lurched. “Stop.”
Nash did, sitting up beside her as he pumped up the volume.
“…unlikely the bill will clear the senate without the support of its senior members, like Winston Pershing, who won’t be in attendance for the rest of the week, due to his nephew’s untimely death,” said the announcer.
“No comment,” Winston snarled to the camera.
“Sir,” one of the reporters shouted. “What do you say to the critics who charge that you’re not backing this bill until you get concessions for your state?”
“More like kickbacks for his wallet,” Madison murmured.
Another reporter jumped in. “And what about the allegations surfacing that your nephew didn’t die in a car accident but was murdered?”
Madison pressed a hand to her chest and froze. That was leaking out? Oh, god. How? Fear gripped her. Did Winston think she was trying to expose the truth? If he did, he would come after her—with every tool at his disposal.
“What is it?” Nash asked.
“Shh.” She stayed glued to the TV.
“That is a despicable lie, designed to shake my family during our time of grief.” Winston glared at the reporter, his narrow-eyed accusation promising payback. “There’s no validity whatsoever to that trash.”
“Meanwhile on Capital Hill…” The news program cut to a junior representative currently making waves and unleashing Twitter storms every other day.
Madison let out a trembling sigh, then turned to Nash, trying not to panic. “You’re sure no one saw us when we walked in?”
“You were wearing a ball cap and sunglasses. We didn’t pass anyone.”
“Cameras?”
He winced. “Everywhere. But I think they’re meant as more of a deterrent than serious security.”
But he didn’t know for sure. Somehow, Winston seemed to learn people’s filthiest little secrets. She’d spent more time keeping her nose clean than trying to figure out how he managed to dig up so much dirt. Now it made her paranoid. What if Winston really could pick up the phone in any town or city and find someone willing to divulge anything about anyone for a favor and some cash?
“I hope you’re right.” She set aside her half-full plate and started pacing. What was she going to do if he wasn’t?
Nash tossed his dish on the coffee table and rose, taking her by the shoulders. “Listen, I know Matt didn’t tell me everything that’s going on, and probably for good reason. I don’t expect you to tell me, either. But maybe you should give me a heads-up so I’m braced for whatever I’m guarding you against. Since that news segment was live, Winston Pershing himself obviously isn’t going to show up here in the next thirty minutes and point a gun in my face.”
“No. He has people to do his dirty work.”
“Good ones, I assume.”
“If they weren’t, he wouldn’t still employ them. He doesn’t suffer incompetence.” Except among his family. He’d long ago accepted that his son was worthless, politically speaking. He didn’t have a shred of ambition. Winston probably liked everyone under his roof being utterly dependent on him.