free of the shadow that hovered over her life. She tried to picture her moment of vindication, but the image of Sawyer admitting he had lied just wouldn’t come into focus.
Would it stir up the local media again, or was the story old news by now? She didn’t think she could face another barrage of ugly, confusing questions. When the drama was playing out she’d stopped patronizing her regular coffee shop because the local weekly newspaper was displayed right beside the cash register, and she couldn’t avoid seeing the accusatory headlines.
Her breathing grew rapid and shallow while a fist of anxiety squeezed her throat.
That answered her question. If just thinking about the possibility made her react like this, she certainly didn’t want to face it in reality.
She slipped off the stool and shoved the papers in her kitchen junk drawer.
She’d have to find a way to thank Vicky for her support and persistence. The vet techs had surprised her with their partisanship. Three of them, including Vicky, had offered to swear they had seen the information form with the cell phone number blank, even though they hadn’t. She’d refused their offer, not wanting their perjury on her conscience along with everything else.
Her partners, on the other hand, had distanced themselves from her, claiming the office staff wouldn’t have allowed the sick, elderly dog to be left without a valid contact number. They were protecting the practice in the public eye, but she would have appreciated a little private sympathy. They were afraid of the influence Robert Sawyer could wield. Just as Ward had been.
“I love you, but I don’t think you’re cut out to be a politician’s wife,” he’d said, trying to cast their broken engagement as a favor to her.
She knew now how stupid she’d been to believe someone like Ward had fallen in love with her, but his courtship had been both persuasive and determined. She was flattered when he asked her three times to accompany him to the most prestigious charity gala on the social calendar, saying he didn’t want to go if she wasn’t beside him. She’d felt like a princess, all dressed up in a stunning silver gown she’d shopped for with his stylish campaign manager. As they entered the ballroom, the orchestra was playing a waltz. Ward had swept her onto the nearly empty dance floor, his tall, tuxedo-clad body just brushing against hers, his light blue eyes fixed on her as though no one else mattered.
She’d been flustered when the waltz ended and a smattering of applause broke out. The people around them had been nothing but a blur to her, so she hadn’t been aware they were watching.
Ward had known it, though.
He always recognized exactly how to get people to watch him, and she was simply one element of his strategy. They’d met at a fundraiser for an inner-city animal shelter where she offered free spay/neuter clinics. A reporter had singled her out for an interview, casting her as the good-hearted vet who donated her time and expertise to animals no one else cared about. Ward had stood beside the cameraman, watching the whole performance.
As soon as the reporter found a new victim, Ward sauntered up, introduced himself, and asked her to the charity gala for the first time. She was pretty sure he’d proposed because someone told him single male candidates weren’t as electable as m arried ones.
When she was being brutally honest with herself, she could admit she’d fallen in love with him against her better judgment. Some small voice in the back of her mind kept whispering that he was the wrong man for her, but Ward had convinced her he was crazy about her. It had seemed impossible not to reciprocate that kind of devotion. Tears burned in her eyes and she drew in a shaky breath. Glancing down she discovered her knuckles had gone white with the grip she had on the edge of the counter. She released it and flexed her hands to stretch the strained muscles.
She was safe in Sanctuary,
Would it stir up the local media again, or was the story old news by now? She didn’t think she could face another barrage of ugly, confusing questions. When the drama was playing out she’d stopped patronizing her regular coffee shop because the local weekly newspaper was displayed right beside the cash register, and she couldn’t avoid seeing the accusatory headlines.
Her breathing grew rapid and shallow while a fist of anxiety squeezed her throat.
That answered her question. If just thinking about the possibility made her react like this, she certainly didn’t want to face it in reality.
She slipped off the stool and shoved the papers in her kitchen junk drawer.
She’d have to find a way to thank Vicky for her support and persistence. The vet techs had surprised her with their partisanship. Three of them, including Vicky, had offered to swear they had seen the information form with the cell phone number blank, even though they hadn’t. She’d refused their offer, not wanting their perjury on her conscience along with everything else.
Her partners, on the other hand, had distanced themselves from her, claiming the office staff wouldn’t have allowed the sick, elderly dog to be left without a valid contact number. They were protecting the practice in the public eye, but she would have appreciated a little private sympathy. They were afraid of the influence Robert Sawyer could wield. Just as Ward had been.
“I love you, but I don’t think you’re cut out to be a politician’s wife,” he’d said, trying to cast their broken engagement as a favor to her.
She knew now how stupid she’d been to believe someone like Ward had fallen in love with her, but his courtship had been both persuasive and determined. She was flattered when he asked her three times to accompany him to the most prestigious charity gala on the social calendar, saying he didn’t want to go if she wasn’t beside him. She’d felt like a princess, all dressed up in a stunning silver gown she’d shopped for with his stylish campaign manager. As they entered the ballroom, the orchestra was playing a waltz. Ward had swept her onto the nearly empty dance floor, his tall, tuxedo-clad body just brushing against hers, his light blue eyes fixed on her as though no one else mattered.
She’d been flustered when the waltz ended and a smattering of applause broke out. The people around them had been nothing but a blur to her, so she hadn’t been aware they were watching.
Ward had known it, though.
He always recognized exactly how to get people to watch him, and she was simply one element of his strategy. They’d met at a fundraiser for an inner-city animal shelter where she offered free spay/neuter clinics. A reporter had singled her out for an interview, casting her as the good-hearted vet who donated her time and expertise to animals no one else cared about. Ward had stood beside the cameraman, watching the whole performance.
As soon as the reporter found a new victim, Ward sauntered up, introduced himself, and asked her to the charity gala for the first time. She was pretty sure he’d proposed because someone told him single male candidates weren’t as electable as m arried ones.
When she was being brutally honest with herself, she could admit she’d fallen in love with him against her better judgment. Some small voice in the back of her mind kept whispering that he was the wrong man for her, but Ward had convinced her he was crazy about her. It had seemed impossible not to reciprocate that kind of devotion. Tears burned in her eyes and she drew in a shaky breath. Glancing down she discovered her knuckles had gone white with the grip she had on the edge of the counter. She released it and flexed her hands to stretch the strained muscles.
She was safe in Sanctuary,
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