Campaign For His Heart. Joy Avery
Chuck held. “What are you reading?”
“You didn’t think you could send me an email stating you’d found the perfect candidate to play the part of your fake girlfriend and not expect me to vet her, right? And for future reference, it’s best we talk about this face-to-face.”
Lauder laughed to himself. Chuck sounded as if he was running for the presidency. No one cared what was in his emails. Still, he nodded his agreement, then said, “Vet her? You had Willow investigated?”
“Don’t sound so surprised. I have a dossier of people attached to this campaign. Politics can be ruthless. I want to make sure we’re not blindsided.”
Lauder was unsure how he felt about Chuck invading Willow’s privacy or the privacy of the others in his camp. “This feels an awful lot like crossing the line, Chuck.”
“Calm down. Most of the information is public knowledge.”
“Most? And how was the rest gathered?”
Chuck sent a gaze in Lauder’s direction, the look on his face suggesting Lauder didn’t want to know. Lauder shook his head and slid his attention out the window. This was the murky part he hated about politics. How far was too far?
Chuck continued to peruse the papers. “Her credit score is better than mine. Highly respected in the law enforcement community. Her company does a lot of work with Raleigh PD. Obviously, she’s good with her hands because she’s won a ton of awards for her clay work.” Chuck flipped several more pages. “Uh-oh.”
Lauder whipped his head toward Chuck. “What was that for?” When Chuck didn’t readily respond, Lauder leaned in to see for himself.
Chuck moved the pages out of view and laughed. “Chill, man. You’re invading my personal space.”
“What the hell is uh-oh?” Lauder couldn’t explain his dire need to know what had happened in Willow’s life that would warrant an uh-oh. An urge to wrestle the man for the papers came over Lauder, but he resisted.
“Seems Ms. Willow Dawson has been bitten by the baby bug. She has a pending adoption application. Looks like she tried to adopt once before. A kid she’d been fostering.”
“What happened?”
“The application was denied.”
Lauder’s brow furrowed. “Denied? Why?”
“‘We feel the applicant lacks a stable enough home structure and financial outlook to support adoption at this time,’” Chuck read. “It looks like she was just starting her forensic facial reconstruction company and had quite a bit of her finances tied up in it. The social worker made a note about not believing Willow would have enough time to dedicate to a start-up and raising a child. Especially as a single parent. That’s cold.”
“That’s bullshit,” Lauder said, sending a hard stare out the tinted glass. How many kids had been denied a loving home because of BS like this? The system has to change.
“Whoa.”
This drew Lauder’s attention back to Chuck. What had he uncovered now? And could it be any more devastating than the adoption news? “What?”
Chuck waved him off. “Nothing. I just didn’t realize she used clay and skeletal remains—namely, a skull—to recreate what a person looked like. A deceased person,” he said, as if the skull hadn’t been a giveaway. “It’s kind of eerie.”
Lauder shook his head at his friend, then turned his attention back out the window. He couldn’t explain why, but his urge, his need to get close to Willow was greater than ever.
* * *
Willow preferred clay over people. Clay didn’t disappoint. It simply remained there in one big clump allowing you to manipulate it in any manner you wanted, not the other way around. Clay didn’t work you like men.
A vision of Lauder’s handsome face burned into her thoughts, and she gritted her teeth. Her best friend, Hannah, stood next to her and laughed, pulling her from the offending image.
“Um, sweetie, everything okay?” Hannah asked.
“Perfect. Why do you ask?” Willow said without looking at her friend.
“Because instead of John Doe, you’ve sculpted a Nubian god. One that looks very familiar.”
“Huh?” Willow eyed her work and gasped. “Oh, God.” How had she... She groaned. It had been two weeks since she’d seen Lauder. Why couldn’t she stop thinking about him?
“Who is it?” Hannah asked, scrutinizing the form.
Willow sighed heavily, debating whether or not to go into details. Deciding it might help her rid the thoughts of Lauder, she said, “Remember the guy I told you about? The one from Drip Drop?”
“Dude from your past?”
Willow nodded, then fanned her hand toward the chunk of clay she’d unconsciously molded into Lauder’s likeness. “Meet Lauder Tolson.”
Hannah’s cinnamon-colored eyes widened, awareness apparently setting in. “Senatorial candidate Lauder Tolson?”
Willow wiped her hands down the front of her brown apron. “Yep, that’s the one.”
“Oh, my good Lord. Lauder Tolson is your ex? The Lauder Tolson?”
“He’s not my ex. He—”
“Deflowered you.” Hannah grinned.
Heat warmed Willow’s neck and rose to her cheeks. “Yeah, that.” Willow thought back to her sixteenth birthday and the bold, shaky words she’d said to Lauder. I want to do it. I want to do it with you. The lopsided smile Lauder had flashed right before he’d kissed her senseless mimicked the one she’d created on his clay face.
Lauder had spoken the truth at the coffee shop. She hadn’t always hated him. That had happened when he’d taken her virginity and then told all of his friends. Then had the nerve to adamantly deny it—more like lie—to her face.
Hannah started again, drawing Willow’s attention.
Reaching for the piece, Hannah said, “Well, the brother is fine. If you don’t want him, I’ll gladly take him.”
Willow swatted Hannah away, surprised by her protectiveness over the bust. How in hell had she managed to sculpt an entire bust of Lauder without realizing it? This man was too much in her head, too potent in her thoughts. She had to stop thinking about him. But how, when his presence had opened a cavern of old memories? Some good, some not so good.
“Don’t let the strong jaw and perfect bone structure fool you. He’s the Antichrist,” Willow said, staring at the figure as if it were speaking to her. She felt like punching it in the face; however, since it was some of her best work, she refrained. But at that moment, she vowed to never think about Lauder Tolson again.
“Um, Willow?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“You might want to cover the Antichrist.”
Cover him? Hannah was being overdramatic. Lauder wasn’t that dang tempting. Willow tilted her head to one side and studied the sculpture. Actually, he was. Even in clay form, the man was beautiful. Ugh. Never thinking about him again, she reminded herself.
Lauder did foolish things to her system. Sinfully delicious things. Things that got her juices flowing. She made a mental note to call Reggie, her occasional friend with benefits. She needed his benefits tonight. That would help rid her system of Lauder Tolson.
“I don’t think covering him is necessary,” Willow said. “Now, had you said toss him in the trash, I could have supported that.”
“Nah, you should probably cover it. Apparently, someone left the gates of hell open. And look what just escaped.