The part that terrified Theo the most was the idea that Abbott might just be telling the truth.
As if that in and of itself wasn’t enough, his wife was warning that she intended to be done with him if Theo lost his run for his father’s Senate seat. She wanted to be First Lady of the state one day, and he had better not screw up her chance. He closed his eyes and shook his head. How could he have ever loved that heartless bitch?
A weariness gushed out of him on a breath. He hadn’t ever really loved her. Their marriage had basically been arranged when they were in high school. It was expected that the only Thompson heir would marry the older of the two Baldwin girls.
Here they were twenty-five years later, and Theo at times pondered if the price he’d paid had been worth it.
Not once in his life had he felt this helpless. His chest was ready to explode. But, like everything else in his life, he had no choice. Her family’s support was as imperative to furthering his career as the other supporters with whom he’d met this morning. If he didn’t work out this situation with Abbott, all would be lost. He would have failed, dropped the ball on the family legacy.
He couldn’t allow that to happen.
Collecting his resolve, he pushed through the gold entry doors and crossed the marble-floored lobby. The receptionist looked up and smiled. She was young and beautiful, of course. York, Hammond & Goldman didn’t employ ugly people. Only the most talented and the most beautiful.
“Mr. York is expecting you,” she said.
Theo gave her a nod and headed for the bank of elevators on the far side of the lobby. He pressed the call button and waited. The briefcase in his hand felt as if it weighed a hundred pounds, when it weighed ten at best.
He was so damned tired of every single thing going wrong. How had he become that person? The one who made the same poor personal choices his father had? He’d intended not to be that man. His father would say the key to those choices was in not getting caught. Bastard. Things were different now than they were forty years ago. With social media and the utter ruthlessness of reporters, hiding secrets was nearly impossible.
The probability that he was completely screwed was strong.
The shiny gold doors that reflected his weary desperation slid apart, and he stepped into the richly paneled car and pressed the number eight. He leaned against the wall and waited for the upward whoosh. He looked like hell. Bags under his eyes. Even his color was too pale. He needed that time away at the beach he’d promised Jen.
Just one more promise he had no idea how he would make happen.
Another sigh slipped past his lips. Frankly, Jen was another complication he didn’t need. He enjoyed being with her, and the truth was, she kept him sane to some degree. But he could never leave his wife for her—at least not as long as he had a choice in the matter. But his mistress didn’t understand. She wanted more. He’d indulged himself too long with her, and now he would have a hell of a time setting her aside.
Everything was going to hell.
Above all else, he needed this Abbott situation to go away.
Despite the Thompson name, his supporters would start pulling out if Theo didn’t get that jump in the polls they wanted. That would not happen if Abbott went public. In fact, there was a strong possibility that Theo could lose far more than this election if the bastard made good on his threats. Theo was counting on his friend Lewis York, a brilliant and cutthroat attorney, to help him ensure that did not happen. More importantly, if Lewis got this situation under control, Theo’s father would never have to know that the apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree.
The thought twisted in Theo’s belly.
He did not want to be like his father. The things Theo knew about the man made him sick. But he could never tell anyone. He could only wait for him to die and hope no one ever exposed that ugly little secret.
Lewis had sent Theo a text to come straight to his office as soon as he was out of his meeting. He hoped like hell there was good news.
He needed good news.
If Lewis had good news, it would be worth the fury Jen had unleashed when he’d canceled their lunch plans. For his private pleasure, there were those he could pay without the pressure of expectations. But no one like Jennifer Whitten.
The story of his life. He always wanted what he couldn’t have.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Thompson,” the eighth-floor receptionist said as he stepped out of the elevator.
Theo gave her a nod and headed toward Lewis’s office. His shoes sank into the carpet. Though elegant marble floors spread over the entire first floor, everything above it was carpeted in the lushest carpeting available. York, Hammond & Goldman wanted their clients comfortable. Only the very best was good enough.
He rapped once on Lewis’s door and walked in.
Lewis stood and thrust out his hand. “I thought that meeting was never going to end.”
Theo shook his hand and collapsed into one of the chairs in front of his desk. “You have no idea. I need a drink.”
Lewis crossed the room to the mirrored bar—each of the partners had one in his or her office. There was an even larger one in the main conference room. Lewis claimed a bottle of scotch and two short glasses and strolled over to join Theo. He set his bounty on the table next to Theo and then claimed the other chair.
“A drink is exactly what we need,” Lewis said. “In fact, we have reason to celebrate.”
Unless Abbott had decided to let sleeping dogs lie, Theo couldn’t see how that was possible. “I would love to know how you reached that conclusion.” He laughed. “Outside Abbott having dropped dead, I can’t see surviving this simmering crisis. Every jackass in that meeting is just waiting for an excuse to pull his support. Apparently, I simply don’t have the charm my father wields.”
There were those who didn’t appreciate paying the devil his due. Thompsons had long held the gate key, the final say amid the power in Birmingham. Some wanted change.
“You should be careful what you wish for, Theo.” Lewis sipped his scotch, his gaze never leaving Theo’s.
“What does that mean?” Theo was in no mood for guessing games. He reached for his glass.
“Sometime this morning, Ben Abbott was murdered.”
The glass almost slipped from Theo’s hand. “Are you serious?” He hated the way anticipation soared inside him at the idea. He didn’t want to find relief in the news, but he did nonetheless.
“Oh yes. I am very serious, my old friend. Ben Abbott is dead. Birmingham PD just released the news. They’ve been keeping it under wraps all morning.”
Somehow Theo managed to lift the glass to his mouth. He downed the scotch. Lewis watched intently. He quickly poured him another, and Theo forced himself to sip it more slowly. “What . . .” He cleared his throat. “What does this mean? What about his wife and that mother of hers? The three are like an unholy trinity haunting my every waking moment.”
Lewis knocked back another slug of his drink, then shook his head. “Trust me, it’s over, Theo. That’s all you have to know.”
Theo had other questions, but he was so overcome with relief he couldn’t summon the wherewithal to demand the answers. “This is . . . as demented as it sounds, good news.”
Lewis nodded. “Very good news. I suggest you get accustomed to being addressed as Senator, my friend.”