Know When to Hold Him (24 page)

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Authors: Lindsay Emory

BOOK: Know When to Hold Him
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Chapter Thirty-Eight

Spencer crossed her arms and gave the two women in her apartment her best “Don’t mess with Texas women” glare. Nora and Rainey were undeterred. In fact, Nora had the nerve to flip her long red hair back, her chin tilted up in her best over-confident pageant queen way. Spencer arched an eyebrow and resisted the urge to stomp her foot. They wouldn’t win. Not tonight.

“He’s your best friend,” Nora reminded her.

“Not really. We’ve grown apart.”

Rainey threw up her hands. “You can’t keep hiding out forever.”

“Who’s hiding?” Spencer demanded, her fingers pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’ve been busy.”

“Busy hiding,” Nora pointed out.

“I just went on a business trip,” Spencer defended.

“For something that could have been taken care of over the phone,” Rainey said. “You flew to Los Angeles for a two minute conversation.”

“It’s called a face-to-face meeting for a reason,” Spencer informed them.

“See, I thought that was a euphemism for, you know.” Nora waved a hand in front of her face. “You know.”

Spencer’s already chilly countenance grew haughtier. “You thought I had a face lift?”

“You do look great,” Rainey murmured.

“Well-rested,” Nora agreed. “It’s probably all the sleeping you’ve been doing.”

Spencer’s mouth dropped, ready to snap back that she hadn’t been sleeping. At all. But that would prove their point. Or something. She didn’t want to go to JT’s fundraiser at the White Rock Belle mansion. Because it was very likely JT’s old law school roommate would be there.

The man who had stopped calling her.

The man who’d stabbed her in the back.

Whatever. She didn’t want to see him. Didn’t want to talk to him. “I’m not going,” she insisted, pausing only a second before she pulled out her trump card. “It’s too political for a Hightower to openly support a candidate.”

Nora screwed up her adorable button nose. “Really? I don’t think your dad minds. Especially because of George and all.”

Spencer froze. “What?”

“George.”

“Clayton?” Spencer asked.

“George Clayton,” Nora repeated.

“What about George Clayton?” Spencer was exasperated.

“He’s working for JT.”

Spencer shook her head like her ears had water in them. “George Clayton?”

“That’s his name, right? I always get names wrong.” Nora asked Rainey.

“George Clayton works for Hayes Hightower,” Spencer corrected.

“That’s your dad,” Rainey added, helpfully.

“You’re not helping,” Spencer griped at Rainey.

Nora shook her head. “George is on sabbatical from your dad. So he came down here to work for JT. JT’s psyched. He said it was a really good sign of the party’s faith in…” Nora stopped as Spencer stalked out of the room. “Was it something I said?”

“I’m going!” Spencer shouted from her bedroom.

Spencer stuck her head out of the bedroom, clad only in her bra and jeans. “I should be working with JT, not George.”

Rainey looked at Nora. “What’s wrong with George?”

Nora shrugged. “Maybe because he’s evil?”

“Not evil,” Spencer pointed out. “But he’s no angel.”

In five short minutes, Spencer was ready to leave the house in a simple black dress, accented with a brightly colored scarf. It was work appropriate, yet she would blend in the background of any political fundraiser. Spencer grabbed her keys on the way to Nora’s car, praying it wasn’t too late. After all, there was a high probability that George could eat JT alive, being the relentless predator that he was.

And, given all she knew about George’s obsessive political ambitions, Spencer also knew, down to her bones, that “sabbatical” was not in the man’s vocabulary. George was up to something. And she was going to find out what it was.


The JT Buchanan for Attorney General fundraiser appeared to be a smashing success. Next stop…margarita machine. Spencer wondered if she could get away with two. It was a Cinco de Mayo party. She wasn’t here officially, and she needed liquid courage.

Keeping herself to one margarita for now, she soon found the man of the hour himself. JT wrapped her in a familiar, warm hug when he saw her. “I didn’t think you would make it,” he whispered into her ear.

She gave him an extra squeeze. “I wouldn’t miss it.” There was a cough behind her. Rainey. Spencer wished she was in elbow range, but reaching behind her, slapping wildly, wasn’t very classy.

“How are things?” Spencer asked as she subtly directed JT away from the earshot of others.

JT knew what she meant. “Good, I think. Thanks for letting Nora spend so much time on the campaign. The best volunteer I have. And then your dad sending George.” JT grinned. “It’s good to have the Hightowers on my side.”

Spencer assessed the room, mentally taking attendance of the donors and supporters. An old habit.

“He’s not here.” JT’s voice startled her back from wondering what Mrs. Collins’ net worth was.

“Who?” Spencer was annoyed that two men jumped in her head. As if one wasn’t bad enough.

“Liam,” JT answered, as though he believed she was just playing when she’d asked. “He’s a mess.”

Spencer pulled back from JT a little. “I thought you were taking my side.”

JT leveled her in a way only someone who’d known her since kindergarten could. “I didn’t think you’d care about sides.”

“It’s always about sides,” Spencer sniffed, but as she repeated the old, rehashed line, she wondered.

Was it?

Because it didn’t feel like there were sides. Not anymore.

She wasn’t sure when it had happened. When the boundaries had melted, the sides had merged, and she had come out looking like the loser.

Like they were both losers. Never in her life had she been part of a losing situation.

JT hugged Spencer with a touch that was friendly and comforting. “You love him,” he said under his breath.

Spencer nodded into JT’s shirt, careful about makeup on the candidate’s clothes. That was all he needed. She pulled away at that reminder.

“He hurt you,” JT said, glancing around the room and waving back automatically at someone who waved at him. Spencer noticed the action. It was something she did, too. JT was a politician now.

“He betrayed me.” With those words, the dull, sad ache rose in her chest again.
Loser
. She had lost something huge and important when she pushed Liam out of her life. She waited for JT to say something supportive, but he looked confused for a minute, then he shrugged whatever it was off.

Spencer wanted to shrug it off, too. The pain, the loss, the heartbreak. She could get over it. After all, she had a new mission. Getting JT elected to statewide office.

“So, George Clayton is on your staff.” She thought she was successful in getting that out with little to no animosity or suspicion in her voice. By the amusement in JT’s eyes, she wasn’t sure she had been.

“Yeah. Do I have you to thank for that?”

Spencer shook her head. “I have no clue about it.”

“We’re having a little meeting in a few minutes. You want in?” he asked, as though he already knew her answer.

“Sure. I just want to help.”

And catch George at whatever he’s doing.

The smoking room was as Spencer remembered it, exactly as the Mansion had kept it for the past fifty years. On entering, her first memory was not of a bad date or a shiner. She thought of Liam and then promptly put that away in a box.

George waited for JT, and it was clear that he hadn’t expected her. It was nice that she could surprise George. He didn’t know everything.

“Hello George.”

“Spencer.” George cocked his head. “Lovely to see you.”

Lying liar
, Spencer thought. She knew him. He was ticked that she was there. Which was…unusual. George didn’t harbor any great amount of affection for her. It wasn’t his job, after all, to become attached to the Senator’s family. But he had never been angry to see her.

He was angry tonight.

JT clapped his hands. “Just wanted to go over the schedule for tonight.” He angled his head at Spencer. “Spencer has generously offered her assistance.”

“She can handle press.” George cut off JT’s last word.

Spencer turned to JT. “I understood Nora was helping with PR. If she’s got that, there’s no reason…”

“Nora doesn’t have the Dallas TV stations in her pocket, does she?” George cut her off.

Spencer blinked at George’s curt tone. “I do have good relationships with a few reporters…”

“A few bazillionaires, a few coke heads, a few football players… You have them all wrapped around your little finger.”

Coke heads.

“George…” Spencer spoke slowly. “Do we need to talk in private?”

George’s expression was bitter. “No,” he ground out. “We need to get to work. On JT Buchanan for Texas Attorney General.”

That wasn’t the whole story, Spencer realized. George may have been angry at her, but something else needled him.

“This isn’t like you, George. You’re usually much more professional than this.”

JT frowned and crossed his arms. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”

George pulled his shoulders back and stood little taller. “Maybe not.” He addressed JT. “I can get you elected. I’ll take care of business. I just don’t want her running and tattling to daddy if she objects to my methods.”

Spencer blinked in shock at George’s accusation. “I’ve never tattled to my father any of the times I’ve objected to your methods. And there’ve been quite a few.”

George tilted his head. “That’s right. You just get your boyfriend to do it.”

“What are you talking about?”

George smirked then. “Oh, so the great Spencer Hightower doesn’t know
everything
that happens around her?”

That made Spencer frown. She really didn’t like not knowing everything. “Tell me.” It was a low threat.

“Your boyfriend objected to the assistance I provided on the Troy Duncan matter. And soon after, the Senator dispatched me here to help.” George tugged on his French cuffs under his navy suit. “It’s fine. I learned my lesson. Don’t mess with the princess. Got it.”

“You sent out the story about Dimitri.” It was an educated guess.

George regarded her with disdain. “No. Did I provide information to Troy’s representation that would be useful in protecting his reputation?” George shrugged. “You put yourself in that firing range when you became involved with Dalynn Kay.”

A spark of anger exploded in Spencer’s chest. “Like I did when I was twelve? And the whole country became fascinated with my deformed leg and my father’s driving skills? Did I do that, too?”

George threw up his hands.

Spencer continued. “I am not fair game, anymore, got it? I never was.”

“Everyone’s fair game in politics,” George countered.

There was a pause in the thick, acrid air of the room. Then JT spoke. “So you’re here because you pissed off Dad Hightower when you went after Spencer.”

Spencer looked at JT with disbelief in her face, and then she shook her head. “My father agrees with George. Everyone’s fair game.” She turned to George then, wondering if he’d disagree with her. It would be nice if her father had objected to her being used as a pawn in the press, and not just when it killed his chances for the Oval Office.

But George was unflappable. “Or maybe I’m here because her boyfriend didn’t like it. Whatever, I’m here. We’ll get you elected and help lay the groundwork for Hightower for President.”

Spencer only wanted to clear one thing up. “What do you mean my boyfriend didn’t like it?”


The door to the room flew open and in spilled Liam Connelly, followed by a frantic Nora Dexter and a determined Rainey White.

“There’s the man of the hour.” George’s voice was cool yet snide.

Liam didn’t respond to George. He didn’t turn his head when Nora explained that they were trying to keep him out, or when Rainey repeated something to Spencer about sleeping with the enemy. He could only see Spencer.

Calm, cool, collected.

Spencer.

With one look, he could tell she knew what he had done.

She was still angry, still an avenging angel.

“Goddamnit, Liam!” That was JT. “Do you have to do this now? We’re in the middle of a campaign event.”

Liam didn’t acknowledge JT, staying focused on his goal. Spencer. Then JT was in front of him, between him and his woman.

“This is between me and her,” Liam declared.

“Typical,” JT spat. “I told you this wouldn’t work. I told you. But no. You just had to try. And now you’re ruining a meeting because you can’t get back with one of your flings.”

Liam hated to do it. He loved the guy but…he couldn’t help it. He hauled his fist back and threw it, planting it in JT’s self-righteous, know-it-all nose.

Women screamed. Nora, on Liam’s right, ran to JT, putting her hands on his face and helping him sit on the damask chesterfield. Liam looked over her shoulder to check to make sure JT wasn’t bleeding all over the place. He couldn’t tell, since JT’s head was comfortably nestled on the redhead’s lap.

Spencer stared at him, furious. “You just punched the future Attorney General of Texas.”

Liam pulled his shoulders back. “He just insulted the future Mrs. Liam Connelly.”

Someone nearby gasped dramatically. It sounded a lot like Nora. “Like hell,” Spencer ground out through gritted teeth. “Get out.”

“Not until I’ve said what I need to say.”

“I don’t care what you have to say-”

“I love you.”

Spencer paused. It was the best and worst thing in the world to say.

“Get out. So I can start cleaning up the mess you’ve made.” First, the guests would need to be dealt with. Then a pre-emptive call to the press. A fight breaking out at JT’s first fundraiser? The state’s newspapers would love that.

“You don’t do messes.”

Spencer arched an eyebrow at him. “No. I do not.”

“You don’t like loose ends.”

“Do you have a screw loose? I said, you need to leave. Now.” Spencer spoke to the room next. “Someone call the cops. Security needs to escort Mr. Connelly out.”

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