Page 33 of The Senator's Secret

“What?”

“I’d like to join you,” he says quietly.

I shrug. “It’s your house.”

He lets out a sign born of nothing but frustration and follows on my heels into the kitchen. I set the cat down on the floor, and she scampers off to find one of her furry friends to play with.

“What do you feel like?” he asks me.

“I don’t know,” I answer before rolling my lip between my teeth.

“I can order Chinese or I can show you how awesome my scrambled egg skills really are,” he says, and I can’t help but laugh.

“I do love a good scrambled egg,” I tell him hesitantly, and it looks like he finally relaxes. He smiles a bright smile when he answers me, and it rings real. He’s happy.

“If you play your cards right, I might even add some cheese and roll it up in a tortilla.” He laughs.

“Now you’re speaking my language.” Of all of the different versions of Jake Chancellor, this one puts me most at ease.

We chat a little, but not a lot while Jake scrambles a panful of eggs. He’s as good at it as he claimed to be. I sit on a barstool while he pushes them around the pan one more time before finally scooping out a big chunk and artfully rolling it into a tortilla sprinkled with cheese. I carry our plates to the table, and Jake pulls a bottle of wine from the fridge and carries it to the table with two glasses.

Again, we sit casually in the kitchen and eat quietly. I know the time has come. I need to tell him about the Conners case and see if his dad really has reason for wanting me to take it. And also, tell him I have to go to dinner at my parents’ house tomorrow night, and we can come up with an excuse for why he can’t go.

“So… umm…” I start before clearing my throat and beginning again. “How was your day?”

Jake smiles at me. “It was all right.”

“Oh… umm. Good.” Shit. That wasn’t exactly a stellar segue into an open dialogue. “Anything interesting happen today?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” he answers.

I’m beginning to sweat. There’s no way I can tell him about dinner or the fact that I have a sneaking suspicion his dad is trying to manipulate my life. I’d almost wonder if he was behind the mysterious package, but the idea is so laughable. Why would he blackmail me with his own son? That’s crazy, right? But still. There is more here than meets the eye, but what is it?

“Is there something you want to tell me, Grace?”

Shit. I swallow the bite of eggs I had just shoveled in my mouth and it gets stuck on the way down. I gulp a big swig of wine to wash it down. I guess now or never.

“Uhh… yes, there is,” I answer. We sit there, not eating for who knows how long, just staring at each other before I realize he’s waiting on me to continue. “So, my parents called me today.”

“That’s nice,” he says as he leans back in his chair with his wine glass hanging from his fingertips. Gone is the sort of shy, friendly man, and in his place is the predator.

“They… umm…”

“Yes?”

“They want us to come over for dinner tomorrow night. I’ll come up with an excuse for you,” I tell him quickly. “I already told them how busy you are.”

“I’ll clear my schedule.”

“They’ll understand. Don’t worry. But I’ll probably be home late.”

“I said I’ll clear my schedule.”

“Oh. Really?” I can’t help but ask. I wish I’d been able to hold my tongue, because he smiles a knowing grin that spreads across his face, turning me inside out.

“Yeah.”

“Oh… well. Thank you.”