Something Reckless(38)

“Thanks for coming over to talk with us on your lunch break,” Dad says. “Connor, would you join Sam and me in my office?” He ushers us back and closes his office door behind us before taking his spot behind his desk.

Connor takes his spot in one of the leather-upholstered chairs opposite Dad, then motions to me. “Have a seat.”

My stomach cramps. I don’t know exactly why my father called me here today, but I have a pretty good guess. I resent that Connor is going to be part of this conversation. Plastering on my polite smile, I lower myself into the damn chair.

“We’ve come to an agreement with Asia,” Connor begins carefully. He avoids my eyes. Pussy. “We don’t anticipate she’ll be a problem.”

“Good,” I manage, dislodging the word from where it wanted to stick in my throat. Connor is my sister’s husband. He used to be my friend. No matter what I may think of him and his piss-poor choices, no matter how unworthy I think he is of Della, he’s not the enemy. “Thank you.”

My father gives Connor an approving nod, and Connor clears his throat before continuing. “On the off chance that she decides to come forward anyway, we’d like to take some proactive measures to protect you.”

“Protect me? I don’t need protecting from Asia. She’s a lying, manipulative—”

Dad holds up a hand to stop me. “Exactly. And the image you maintain will make her lies all the easier for the public to swallow.”

“What image do I maintain? I’m not the politician. I don’t have an image.”

“Everyone has an image,” Connor says. “And yours is that of the consummate playboy.”

Well, fuck. “My love life is irrelevant to my father’s campaign.”

“Should be, maybe,” Connor says. “But you know as well as I do that the press is going to be watching your every move, and with the primaries coming up in May, we can’t afford to have a wild card like Asia and whoever else you might have an unsavory history with. We can’t let her run loose without hedging our bets a little.”

I curl my fingers around the chair arms, since I can’t strangle the father of my unborn niece. “You think I have a long line of strippers who aborted my children against my wishes? Is that what you’re suggesting?”

Connor drops his gaze to his notes, and my father sighs audibly. “Drop the victim act, Sam. We’re not suggesting you get married or anything so dramatic.”

I inhale slowly. Exhale. I fucking hate this. “What are you suggesting, exactly?” I shift my gaze to my brother-in-law. “Connor?”

To his credit, he meets my gaze. Fucker still insists he did nothing wrong. “A steady girlfriend. Find a girl, woo her, play nice, and otherwise keep your dick in your pants until we get your father into office next November.”

“Governor Guy’s daughter is still single,” Dad says.

Right. For half my life, Dad has been trying to hook me up with Sabrina Guy, and I’m so profoundly uninterested in the sweet, soft-spoken thing that I could fall asleep just thinking about her. Never mind the other reason I couldn’t bring myself to date her, but Dad doesn’t know about that, and I won’t be the one to tell him.

“Connor,” my father continues, with his polite smile, “may my son and I have the room, please?”

“Of course.” Connor gathers his things and stands, nodding at me before he leaves me with my father.

“I understand that I’m asking a lot of you,” Dad says when we’re alone. “But you have to understand that I’m not just trying to protect my campaign. I’m trying to protect you, and I apologize that it’s necessary.”

I take a breath. “This isn’t just a ploy to get me to settle down?”

Dad smiles ruefully. “I can’t say I’d object to that. You’re my son, so of course I’d like to see you settle down and find someone who makes you as happy as your mother makes me.” He leans back in his chair and crosses his legs. “I know that has to happen on your own terms.”

“You just want me to date someone. Regularly. No photo ops or grand gestures for the media to coo over.”

“Not unless you want to make them.”

Shit. I think he’s right. Honestly, it’s not much of him to ask of his oldest son. “Does it have to be Sabrina?”

He cocks his head. “You’ve always objected to her. Do you mind sharing why?”

Fuck yes, I mind sharing. “Does it really matter? I’m not interested.”

My father nods, accepting that. For the moment, at least. “Okay, so it doesn’t have to be Sabrina, but no strippers. Understood?”