Songbird (30 page)

No can do. I’m covering the debate tomorrow night.

The mayoral debate?

Oh no.
I hadn’t even considered the fact that I’d have to be in the same room with Dominic Barkley. Could be awkward.

Yes.

I’m going with you.

Oliver is going with me.

Great. He can ride with us.

I sigh and try to figure out how to handle this. The debate will be held in a college auditorium and crowded with voters and reporters. The chances I’ll even have to make eye contact with Dominic are slim. This is work. Devin’s just going to have to ignore his caveman tendencies for one night and let me do my job.

Before I can reply, I get another message.

Don’t even try to talk me out of it. I’m going. End of discussion.

Is he serious? End of discussion?

I don’t even bother with a reply. It can be the end of discussion—for now.

But just wait until I get home.

I’m prepared for a fight when I walk into the apartment later that afternoon. Instead, I find Devin sitting on the couch, staring daggers at a fresh bouquet of orange tiger lilies. My stomach drops.

“Where did those come from?

“Did you have lunch with Dominic today?”

“Are those from
him
?”

“Answer the question, Callie!”

“Don’t you dare yell at me! And are you seriously asking me that question? I told you I ate lunch in the park.”

He tiredly rubs his face and exhales a heavy sigh.

“Believe it or not, I was hoping you lied to me.”

“I . . . don’t understand.”

Devin reaches for my hand. Despite my anger, I take it and let him pull me toward the couch.

“I’m sorry I yelled.”

“Okay . . .”

“Did you see Dominic anywhere today? Maybe in the park? Or on the way back to the office?”

“No, Devin. I didn’t see him anywhere. Why are you interrogating me?”

He hands me the card.

You looked beautiful at lunch today. I love banana peppers, too. ~Dominic

My stomach lurches, and I leap off the couch and race to the bathroom.

Devin paces the living room with his cell phone against his ear, alternating between barking and whispering orders to someone on the other end. I’m on the couch, nibbling on a banana pop and praying my stomach calms down. Every few minutes, Devin takes a break from his frenzied pacing and sits down next to me. He squeezes my hand, kisses my forehead, cups my cheek . . . anything to comfort me.

They say a reporter should always trust her instincts, but today, I’d ignored them when it came to my personal safety. I
knew
someone was following me. To have it confirmed has totally sent me over the edge with a million different emotions, but the overriding one is fear.

I’m afraid.

But I’m not afraid for me.

My hand rests on my stomach. It’s intense—this protective intuition that’s consuming me. I can’t help but wonder why it’s so overpowering for me and yet my own mom seems to lack the same mothering instinct. Protecting my baby has suddenly become the most important thing in my world.

Devin finishes his call and drops to his knees in front of me. I watch with teary eyes as he leans close to my stomach. His trembling fingers lift the hem of my blouse, and he places a soft kiss against my skin.

“I won’t let anything happen to you. Either of you.”

“I know you won’t.”

A knock on the door makes us both jump.

“It’s just Owen. Don’t get up.”

“No problem.”

But it’s not just Owen. Walking in behind him is a massive, broad-shouldered man with deep ebony skin who looks like he can bench press a Buick. The guys shake hands before they all turn their attention to me.

“Callie, this is Malik. He’s a former Navy SEAL and now works in personal security. He’s a friend of Owen’s.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Miss Franklin.”

The towering man offers me his hand. I’m almost afraid to shake it, but his grip is surprisingly gentle.

“Nice to meet you, too. And you can call me Callie.”

He smiles, which makes him look a lot less scary.

Owen sits down next to me and gives me a hug. “Don’t worry about a thing. We’re going to take good care of you and my nephew.”

“
We
are? Who’s we?”

“I’ve hired Malik for your protection,” Devin explains.

“You hired a bodyguard?”

“
Bodyguards
,” Owen says with a grin. “You’re gonna get so sick of me, Mama Callie.”

“Don’t you have a job?”

Owen nods. “That’s why you have two. One of us will be with you at all times.”

Unbelievable.
My eyes flicker to Devin, who looks as if he’s bracing himself for a fight. Normally, he’d get one, but any irritation I might feel is overshadowed by this all-encompassing mothering instinct that’s desperate to protect her child. I have no reason to believe Dominic could be violent, but the fact is I’m obviously being followed—if not stalked—and that puts my baby in danger. Are two burly bodyguards complete overkill? Probably. But the mother in me can’t find it in myself to care.

“Please don’t fight me on this,” Devin says, his tone soft and pleading.

“I won’t fight you.”

He sighs with relief and leans down, kissing me softly. I then watch as he takes the orange tiger lilies—vase and all—and dumps them in the trash.

“I
have more security than the mayoral candidates,” Callie mutters as we make our way into the auditorium.

Owen shoots me a grin. To my enormous surprise, she hadn’t fought me when it came to the bodyguards, but that didn’t mean she was happy about it. And that’s fine. She can complain all she wants. With Malik on one side and Owen behind us—and her photographer leading the way—I couldn’t ask for better protection.

I refuse to let that stalking asshole within a hundred feet of her.

The stage is simple, with a blue backdrop and two podiums. We take our seats as the moderator welcomes everyone and introduces the candidates. The men take their places at the mics, and the host informs them about the debate rules and time limits. My eyes narrow as I watch Dominic and his fake smile. Callie gives my hand a reassuring squeeze before opening her tablet to take notes.

As the debate flows from question to question, I sit and stew. I should’ve handled him myself, but Callie wanted to deal with it. I hadn’t expected a polite email to change his mind. It wouldn’t have changed mine. As a matter of fact, she’d told me to go to hell, and I kept sending her flowers. I even camped outside her door night after night.

Maybe I’m a stalker, too.

Callie must feel my eyes on her, because she glances up from her tablet and smiles at me.

“I love you,” she mouths.

She loves me. Despite my stalkerish, overprotective tendencies.

When the debate ends, I watch as the candidates leave the stage and navigate their way into the crowd.

I lean over and kiss her temple. “I’ll be right back.”

Callie nods without looking up from her tablet. I give Owen a pointed look that he understands immediately, and he slides in next to Callie as I head for the lobby. It takes me a grand total of thirty seconds to find Dominic. His hand’s on the back of a busty redhead who he introduces to everyone as his campaign manager. Typical. Dominic Barkley is rarely found without an attractive woman on his arm.

It wasn’t that long ago that someone would have said the same thing about you, McAllister.

I shake off that irritating thought and make my way to his side. Dominic plasters on a smile when he sees me.

“Devin McAllister! It’s been a long time.”

I offer him my hand. “It has. I know you’re busy, but I was wondering if I could speak with you for a moment. Alone.”

“Anything for a voter. Especially an influential one.”

No doubt he’s thinking he can pump me for a photo op or campaign money. Poor bastard doesn’t have a clue what he’s in for.

He whispers something into the redhead’s ear before his security detail leads me toward a conference room. His bodyguard closes the door behind us. Dominic waves me toward one of the chairs surrounding the table.

“I won’t take much of your time, Dominic.”