Page 41 of Accepted Precedent (Love & Politics #3)
Jaclyn takes my old seat and swaps plates. “So, what did I miss?”
“Oh, you know, nothing an old married woman would want to worry herself with,” I tease.
“I’ve barely been married for six months!”
I shrug. “Still technically old and married.”
We all laugh, and I can’t remember the last time I felt this light. I’ve missed Ileah and Jaclyn so much these past few months, and we need more time together like this—no fake smiles for the cameras, no holding back.
As we’re nearly finished with lunch, a man in all black approaches the table. “Mrs. Adams?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Your driver has asked me to take you home.”
“Home? But I have an appointment.”
Ileah grips my thigh as she tells him, “That’s okay. Senator Taylor and I will ensure she has a ride.”
He glances around nervously. “Mickey Gallagher will have my head if we don’t leave soon.”
Mick and Finn have always addressed people formally, and everyone they’ve ever hired does the same. Never once have I heard anyone call him Mickey.
Something isn’t right.
Kristin narrows her eyes on him. “Please let Mr. Gallagher know that we have it handled.”
“That’s okay. I’ll call him myself,” Ileah quickly offers.
The man turns a bright shade of red as she pulls out her phone, and he insists, “That’s not necessary.”
He scurries off, and after sifting through my purse, I take out my phone to call Carl. Thankfully, he picks up on the first ring. “Mrs. Adams, are you ready for me to pull the car around?”
“Not quite, but did you ask someone else to drive me today?”
“Is that Carl?” Kristin asks at the same time he replies, “No, but I’ll make a quick call and have security in the restaurant within three minutes.”
“I don’t need security,” I rush out.
“Mr. Gallagher?—”
“Would tell you it’s all fine,” I finish, even if it’s a bold-faced lie.
If Mick found out what happened, he’d fire Carl, murder the man who approached us, and would probably never let me leave the house until these babies are born.
“We’re all okay. It was probably just someone who recognized me from photos with Andrew.
We’ll be ready to go in about ten minutes once we pay the bill. ”
“Your meal has already been taken care of.”
“Oh.” Eyes wide, I relay to the girls, “Mickey paid for our lunch.”
“Okay, ma’am. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Thanks, Carl.” We hang up and Ileah, Jaclyn, and Kristin begin asking me questions in rapid succession. “Whoa, hold on, one at a time.”
“Who was that guy?” Jaclyn starts carefully.
Ileah also keeps her voice low as she suggests, “I think he’s the guy who was at the bar earlier. If it is, he was sitting with a woman, but she’s also gone.”
“Fuck this,” Kristin huffs, rummaging in her bag. “I’m calling Mickey.”
“No! You know how overprotective he gets. Carl will be here in ten minutes. I need to get to my appointment, but I’ll see if he can drive you all home after.”
Kristin pauses typing to ask, “What about my car?”
“I can drive. I only had one drink,” Ileah offers.
“Okay, so Lee will drive everyone home. Everything's… fine.”
“It’s not fine,” Kristin grunts. “Mickey is going to kill me if he finds out about this.”
“Daddy Mickey won’t be the wiser. Right, ladies?” Ileah asks with a cocked eyebrow. Her calling him Daddy gives me pause. “There’s no reason to alert one of the most influential men in Washington. If he knew, I wouldn’t put it past him to shut down the whole city to find the guy.”
Andy and I were always so careful when she was staying with us. Hoping it’s just her teasing, I straighten my posture and agree, “She’s right. That guy got scared off by the mere mention of Mick. I’m sure he’s long gone. No one needs to know.”
I’m grateful the girls don’t fight me on it, and easily work out drop-off logistics. I make my way out front and meet Carl, who is already waiting. He opens the car door and I can’t find the right words to thank him for not calling Mickey.
It’s only a fifteen-minute drive to the doctor’s office, but we only make it ten before I break the unbearable silence. “Did you have a chance to eat lunch while we were there?”
“Yes,” he replies flatly, his eyes glued to the road.
“What did you have?” He doesn’t answer. “So… did you call Mickey about anything?”
“No.” Again, it’s clipped.
The rest of the drive, my stomach in knots. He could be lying, and I’ll be meeting a growly Irishman any minute. We pull up to the large building, and instead of Mickey waiting out front, the man from the restaurant is leaning against a pillar, typing on his phone.
“Fuck,” I mutter, then demand, “Don’t park.”
“What’s wrong?”
Leaning forward, I point. “Him. That’s the guy who said he was driving me home.”
Carl taps a few icons on the dash screen. “I’m sorry, but I have to call him.” He drives past the drop-off area, and Mickey picks up after what feels like eternity. Without giving Mick a chance to greet him, he rattles off, “Boss, we have a Code Three-Twenty-Nine.”
“Where’s Evelyn?” Mick growls, his voice booming through the speakers.