The Truth About Love (12 page)

Gina’s foot hit the brake pedal the second she passed the community clubhouse at Landon’s condo complex. Even if she hadn’t known what kind of vehicle he drove, the dark, curly hair and bare, broad shoulders of the man washing his truck across the parking lot from the clubhouse could only belong to Landon.

She pulled her SUV into a parking spot and got out. He seemed unaware of her presence as he took a brush out of the soapy bucket and scrubbed one of the wheels.

The bright Tallahassee sun glinted off his curls like they were polished onyx. His head beat to a rhythm she couldn’t hear. The muscles in his back ebbed and flowed with the scrubbing motion of his hand—a ripple here, a bulge there. If the circumstances were different, she could certainly enjoy this sight.

He rose and turned to dip the rag into the bucket of soapy water as she approached. He saw her and straightened to his full height, tugging earbuds from his ears as he turned to face her. He didn’t say a word—just stood there like the bronze statue of some mythological god of muscled, suntanned bodies.

“I’ve got to tell you something,” she said. “I tried calling you about fifteen times.” She glanced down at the earbud cords dangling from the pocket of his low-slung shorts. He nodded toward the truck. “My phone’s in the console.”

She swallowed and forced herself to look away from the abs that looked like they belonged in an advertisement for
Men’s Health
.

“So what is it?” he said.

Her gaze returned to him. She forced herself to look at his face, but those broad shoulders still distracted her. Muscles the size of grapefruits bulged under his skin. “Can you . . . put on a shirt or something?”

He placed his hands on his hips and broadened his stance. One corner of his mouth tipped into a grin. “Can’t handle looking at the goods?”

“Believe me, it was not my choice to be here.” She knew after their meeting at Morgan’s Ladder that he had so many reasons to dislike her.

“Then why did you come?”

She took a deep breath. How many times would she have to tell this man she was making his life more difficult? “Suzanne and I were down at the prison in Starke today. A guy was being let out who’d been wrongly convicted of a murder twenty-one years ago.”

Landon tossed the rag into the bucket. Water splashed out onto the hot pavement and immediately began to disappear. “And what’s this got to do with me?”

“Channel Four was there. Donna Crocker asked if I was in a relationship with you.”

He took a step forward and glared at her. “She asked you that? On camera?”

Gina nodded. She wanted to fade into the searing pavement, just as the water had done.

“And what did you say?” Landon’s voice was louder, angrier.

“I kept turning the conversation back to the guy who got out today.”

“And . . . ?”

How did he know there was an “and”?

“I may have said something about you not liking your job.”

He glared at her. “How the hell did that even come up in the conversation?”

“She said it would ruin your career to have a relationship with me.”

“Or my life.” His glare intensified.

She pulled her cell phone from her pocket to check the time. “It’s five fifty-two. Can we go to your place to watch the six o’clock news?”

He bent and drew the rag out of the bucket. “I learned a long time ago not to pay attention to what people are saying about me.”

“But I want to see it and I don’t have time to get back to my place. I want to see which parts make the newscast.”

“Is that what we need here? For a news crew to see the two of us coming out of my condo? Or maybe that’s what you want?” He raised his hands to frame an imaginary headline in the air. “Visiting law student tricks Landon Vista into sleeping with her while she fights to get his mom’s killer out of jail.”

His words stung, but she didn’t want him to know that.

“You might want to work on your technique.” She placed her hands on her hips. “Because if we’ve slept together, it was . . . unmemorable.”

He smirked.

Gina pulled her cell phone from her pocket and checked the time again. “Come on. It’s about to start.”

He returned to the truck and bent to scrub the same wheel he’d been working on when she’d arrived. “You should have gone straight to your place.”

“I thought I was being kind.” Her voice was a mixture of anger and desperation. She wasn’t sure which she hated worse. “I thought I was helping you.”

His hand stilled on the wheel. His shoulders rose and fell as his lungs expanded with a big sigh. He stood to face her.

“I learned a long time ago to distance myself from all that crap, but you can go watch it by yourself.” He opened the door to the truck and retrieved his keys. She stepped toward him and reached for them, but he quickly withdrew his arm. The action brought her closer to him. She could feel the heat radiating from his body. Smell the soapy, sweaty scent of him.

“I’m doing this under one condition: you never, ever mention my name in the media again.” He held the keys above his head, exposing the trim right side of his rib cage. “Ever.”

She nodded. “Agreed.”

He lowered his arm and handed the keys to her. “The square silver one.” He turned back toward his truck.

“You trust me in your condo? By myself?”

He turned back toward her with a glower. “I’m letting you in my condo. But I don’t trust you at all.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

L
andon watched as Gina hurried across the parking lot toward her SUV, her hips swaying in the same skirt she’d undoubtedly worn to the prison today. The last thing some guy doing time needed was a look at that curvy ass. Hell, Landon had gotten laid on a regular basis and that ass drove him crazy.

What was he doing, giving her the keys to his condo? And why did he make such stupid decisions when it came to her? He rolled his head around, trying to release the tension in his shoulders. She did this to him. Every damn time he saw her.

Maybe he’d go for a run tonight. A nice, long, Gina-free run.

He finished washing the last wheel and returned the bucket and hose to the place the condo association kept them, then got the extra key from the glove box and started the truck.

When he arrived at his condo, Gina was out front, locking the door closed. She turned and was surprised by his presence. She looked pale. Shaken by something more significant than him startling her.

“I thought
I
had your keys,” she said.

“I keep an extra one in the glove box.” He took the key ring she handed him and unlocked his front door. He motioned for her to go inside.

She hesitated.

“Do you really want Donna Crocker to see us out here?” he asked.

Gina took a deep breath and stepped into his entry hall.

He followed her inside. She was uncomfortably close. “So what did they show on the news?”

“Buford Monroe’s release was the top story.” She looked down, but he could still see the redness that blossomed on her chest and neck. “They said Morgan’s Ladder has taken on Cyrus Alexander’s case.” She looked up and made quotation marks in the air with her fingers. “The man convicted of murdering the mother of former FSU standout Landon Vista.”

He’d heard that before. Had to live with it all through college and after.

The apologetic look on Gina’s face told him she wasn’t finished recapping what had been on TV. “And that you weren’t happy with your job at the senator’s office.”

“I can’t believe you’d say that.”

“You
told
me you don’t like being used by those people.”

He swiped his hand through his hair. ”Yes, but it wasn’t for you to broadcast on the local news.”

“Even if you hadn’t told me, I’ve seen how you act. How you don’t have that passion that you had when I saw you playing football on TV.”

“You’ve come to this conclusion after knowing me for what, two weeks?”

“I didn’t mean to say it. She kept badgering me.”

He paced in front of her. “You do not have my permission to talk about me in the media. Ever.”

“Okay. I deserve that.” She stood taller and cocked her chin up. “But you still haven’t denied you hate your job.”

“That is not a topic for public discussion.” What did she not get about this?

“So what’s holding you here? Your father? Or maybe you like the celebrity? Otherwise you’d go somewhere people didn’t know you so well. Santa Fe. Or Portland. Somewhere not as crazy about football.”

He stopped his pacing and glared at her, hoping his bravado would hide the truth. No one else had even come close. No one else had seemed to care that he stayed in Tallahassee hoping his dad would one day show he gave a damn.

But Gina didn’t need to know that. She’d come dangerously close to a truth no one else had ever discovered. How could she disrupt his life so completely and at the same time be the one person who actually saw him? Not the football player or the poster child for tougher sentencing laws. No. She actually saw
him
. He studied her eyes, trying to understand what she might be thinking. “Maybe you should just stick to the law. And stop trying to psychoanalyze my life.”

“I should go.”

He stood there, his face close to hers, for several more seconds. He felt like kissing her, though he had no idea why. This woman was like a sudden storm, with winds licking at his heels, blowing everything he’d ever known about his life into disarray.

Finally, he stepped away from her. She made her way toward the door.

“And, Gina?”

She turned to look at him.

“If we ever did sleep together . . .”

Gina’s eyebrows rose. Questioning him.

“You’d definitely remember it.”

Gina was glad her boss was out of town for the next couple of days. Maybe by the time Suzanne got back from visiting her aunt, this whole mess with Donna Crocker would have blown over. Or at least maybe another huge catastrophe would have made it seem like something other than the major screwup that it was.

She glanced toward her boss’s office. Empty now, but Suzanne would be back in a couple of days and they’d talk through it. Hopefully by then, she’d have her feelings sorted through.

She wanted to call Landon, but what did you say to the guy whose life you’d messed up in so many ways? Admitting he might not have seen Cyrus Alexander running out of the country store was a major paradigm shift to begin with. But then she had to go and point out that he stayed in Tallahassee hoping his dad would eventually show he cared? And who was she to suggest that Landon needed to move on, to know he was a strong person, with or without his father’s love?

She wanted to reach out and hold him. To convey to him that she understood—at least in part—how he felt. To share the wisdom she’d gained from the couple of years she’d had to digest the fact that she’d put an innocent boy in jail. To somehow show him that he was a full and vibrant man, regardless of his father’s involvement in his life.

How had her life become so tangled up in his? How did he make her so angry one minute . . .

“If we ever did sleep together, you’ll definitely remember it.”

. . . and make her tingle with anticipation the next?

She considered calling him. To apologize? For which of the many things? For duping him with that stupid picture of the basketball team? Or to talk about damage control after her comments on the local news? To try to convince him that he’d eventually figure out how to deal with all this?

But was there anything she could say to him that would make it better? Maybe it was best if she just stayed away. It was hard to jeopardize your job by keeping your mouth shut. And she’d done enough damage already. She was even too embarrassed to call her dad, whom she could talk to about anything.

The ring of her office phone startled her. She stared at it for a couple more rings, then finally answered. “Morgan’s Ladder.”

“Gina Blanchard, please.” The woman on the other end was all business.

“This is Gina.”

“This is Mrs. Willingham from Senator Byers’s office. The senator is requesting a meeting with you.”

Everything in Gina’s body stilled. Her heart quit beating. Her blood quit flowing. Could she turn down the request? She wouldn’t even live in this state after a few more weeks. How bad would it be for her career if she dodged meetings with state senators?

“Ms. Blanchard?” The woman on the other end of the phone seemed impatient.

“Yes, I’m here.” Maybe he wanted to see her for some business having to do with the task force. Maybe he knew nothing about her screwup on the evening news.

“He’d like for you to come to his office this afternoon at five p.m.”

“Can I ask what this is regarding?”

The woman paused before answering. “Most people are just happy to get an audience with him.” She seemed to choose her words carefully.

“Will other people be in the meeting?” Maybe that was a way to get more information.

“Ms. Blanchard.” Gina knew she’d been scolded by the tone in the woman’s voice. “Are you free to meet or not?”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

L
andon stood at the printer, waiting for the statistics to be included in the senator’s latest presentation to finish spitting out. He’d kept his head down all day, trying to convince himself that no one watched the local news anymore anyway. But what bothered him most was how Gina saw through him. That she’d started out as the lawyer on the other side of the Cyrus Alexander case, but had somehow wormed her way into his psyche. And his life.

Scott Meredith came around the corner. “The senator would like to see you in his office.”

Landon retrieved the last of the presentation from the printer’s output tray and followed Scott through the door that led from the worker-bee cubicles into the upscale part of the workplace. Here, glass-walled private offices conveyed stature. Power. Prestige. This was where the decisions were made, where the deals were done, and where plans were made on how to collect more money from donors. The senator’s office was at the end, protected by Mrs. Willingham, an executive assistant who guarded her boss’s calendar and real estate like a pit bull.

The matronly woman normally cast her prunish smile at people when they entered her area, but she seemed to avoid looking at him and Scott. Instead, she straightened a stack of papers that didn’t need straightening.

“Landon can go in?” Scott asked.

Mrs. Willingham, forced to acknowledge them, gave Landon a look that seemed intentionally blank and nodded toward the senator’s office. “Go on.”

Scott, too, seemed evasive. Secretive. He inclined his head toward the senator’s doorway, making it clear he wouldn’t be joining Landon inside.

The senator was gazing out the window, toward the capitol, when Landon entered. “You wanted to see me?” Landon asked.

The older man turned. “Shut the door, son.”

Landon closed the door behind him and only then caught a small movement out of the corner of his eye. They weren’t in the room alone. He turned around to see who was with them.

Gina.

She glanced at him with a worried look. He crinkled his brow, a silent question to see if she knew what this was about. She gave an almost imperceptible shrug.

“I guess the two of you know each other.” The senator’s voice boomed.

“Yes, sir.” They answered one right after the other.

The older man glared at them. “Apparently that’s a fact that all of Tallahassee knows by now.” He motioned for Landon to sit in the chair next to Gina’s, across from the desk. “Sit down, son.”

Landon sat, though he was tempted to tell the old man to shove it.

“Did you see it on TV last night?” the senator asked.

Landon sat up straighter. “No, sir.”

The senator nodded toward Gina. “She said you didn’t like working here.”

Landon looked over at Gina, hoping something in her countenance would help him decide what to say. Part of him wanted to tell the truth—that he hated being used for his notoriety—but the self-preservation part of his psyche took over. He decided to remain silent.

Senator Byers raised a questioning eyebrow. “What would have given her that opinion?”

“I hardly ever know what women think . . . sir.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gina’s head turn toward him, her mouth open in shock. Or anger. Or both. But she’d gotten him into this mess, so maybe it was time for him to dish out a little trouble of his own.

The senator leaned down, placing both palms flat on his desk. “You may think this is all cutesy and fun, but let me tell you what the rules are going to be from now on. If your friend makes another comment like that. On TV. In the newspaper. On the Internet.” The senator slashed his hand through the air. “To anyone, then we’ll fire your ass that very same day. You got that?”

Landon swallowed and tried to see Gina in his periphery without making Senator Jackass think he wasn’t focused on him. Getting reamed in front of her was embarrassing, even if all this was her fault. “Yes, sir.”

“We hired you because we thought you’d be an asset,” the senator continued. “Don’t let yourself become a liability.”

Landon’s body tensed with anger. He wasn’t some donor list or a trade secret. And he sure as hell didn’t like being told he was a liability. Especially not in front of Gina.

The senator continued. “Reelection’s going to be hard enough this time around as it is. We can’t afford the negative publicity.” He sat down. “And since you can’t seem to keep it in your pants when you’re around her, I’m pulling you off the task force. Effective immediately. You’re not to see her anymore—not for work. Not after work. You understand?”

Landon’s ears grew hot. His jaw tensed. He hated that the guy was talking to him like a third grader. He was a grown man. If he wanted to see Gina, then he was going to see her.

“I don’t think you can do that.” There was a sudden silence. Both men turned toward Gina, who’d spoken for the first time since Landon had entered the room. She leaned back, as if aware of the sudden attention. “I don’t think you can tell your employees who they can date, especially if both parties don’t work within your organization.” Her eyes widened with realization. “Not that we’re dating or anything.”

“And you.” Senator Jackass came around the desk to face her, aiming his venom at his new victim. “You’ve gone to one year of law school and now you think you’re an expert on employment law?”

She held his gaze. “I didn’t say that, sir.” Landon was proud of the way she stood up to the bastard. He admired a person—anyone—who stood up for what they thought was right.

“You are never to mention me to the media again.” The old man pronounced the words slowly, as if to make sure Gina understood. “Or Landon. Or anyone else on my staff.”

“Yes, sir.” Again, she held his gaze.

“Does Suzanne know you’re sleeping with him? Doesn’t that violate some kind of lawyer code of ethics or something?”

Landon had had it. He leapt to his feet and towered over the senator. “That’s enough.” His voice was stern. This might get him fired. But at this point, standing up for Gina was more important.

The senator let out a sarcastic chuckle. “So, I guess there is a relationship here.”

Landon pointed to her. “She has been nothing but professional. She didn’t even know who I was the night Donna Crocker was talking about. Yeah, I kissed her. But look at her. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t do the same thing.”

The senator glanced at her face, then her breasts before he seemed to realize what he was doing. His face paled.

Landon continued. “She screwed up. She gets that.” He looked at her as she stood. “You won’t do it again, right?”

She shook her head as she picked up her purse.

“Is there anything else you need from us?” Landon asked the senator.

The older man regained his composure. He stood to his full height, but was still several inches shorter than Landon. “You’re dangerously close to saying something you’re going to regret later.”

“Then we should go. You ready, Gina?” Landon heard rustling as she headed toward the door, but he held the senator’s glare, challenging him.

Ten minutes ago Gina had been the enemy—the one who’d screwed up his life in yet another way—but she didn’t deserve this. He felt a protectiveness toward her. Sure, she’d held her own, but this was what men did. They protected their women.

Except she wasn’t his.

And he didn’t think she ever would be.

“That wasn’t much fun,” Landon said as he slid into the booth at Carmine’s about fifteen minutes after the senator had reprimanded them. The dark, casual atmosphere had made this one of his go-to places since his freshman year.

“Are you sure we should be seen in public together?” Gina asked, looking around the nearly empty tavern. “The senator seemed pretty serious.”

Landon gave her a dismissive wave. “No one’s ever in here. That’s why I like it so much.” Besides, he was so ticked at the senator right now that he’d love to go toe-to-toe with him on whether or not he could see Gina outside of work. He felt like seeing her just to spite the guy . . . not that he’d have to be convinced to be near her. Just watching the way her light blue shirt hugged the sides of her breasts was reason enough for any man to hang around.

He raised two fingers in the air when Carmine looked at him from behind the bar. The guy would know to bring them each a draft beer.

“I can’t believe he said he’d fire you for something I might do.”

Landon grunted. Yeah, the guy was an asshole.

Crimson rose on her cheeks. He wondered if that always happened when she got fired up like this. “Does he realize that men don’t control the actions of women anymore?” she asked.

“He’s a state senator. I’m pretty sure he’s used to people doing whatever he wants, regardless of their gender.”

“I think he might be stuck in the 1950s. And besides, I don’t even live in this state full time.” Carmine placed a beer in a frosted glass in front of her. “Thanks.” She paused until the bar owner left the table. “If I’m not one of his constituents, then he can’t really expect me to bow down to him like everybody else does.”

He gave her a teasing grin. “I’m about to lose my job, but this is all about you?”

She smiled back. He wished he could see that smile every day. “I guess a lot of this is my fault.”

Landon scoffed. “You think?”

“I’m really sorry.” Her gaze held his.

“For what?” He wasn’t sure he was ready to forgive her for all that, but the run-in with the senator seemed to have made them comrades for the time being.

“The picture of the basketball team. For talking to the media about you. For getting you yelled at by your boss.”

He shrugged. She’d gotten chewed out, too, so he wasn’t sure that one counted.

“I’ll make a deal.” She stretched her arms out toward him. “I’ll tell you some good news I’ve discovered about the case. To at least start to make us even. What do you say?”

He wasn’t sure what kind of good news she could have. She’d blown into his life like a maelstrom and toppled everything he’d ever known like lawn furniture in a hurricane. But maybe it was worth a shot. He still wasn’t sure where their professional relationship ended and their friendship began. Assuming what they had could even be called a friendship. It was a wary one at best. “What is it?”

She leaned forward, an excited look on her face. “Your dad was a district manager for Davidson Auto Parts when you were a kid.”

“
My
dad?” The company had stores all over north Florida and south Georgia.

“After what you said the other night about my dad having a steady job, I figured you didn’t know.”

“Was this when my mom was killed?”

She nodded. “And for a year or so before that.”

He ran his fingers through his hair. “My dad wasn’t drinking when it happened?” He suddenly didn’t feel like having his beer. His hands shook as he pushed it farther away.

“Or he hid it pretty well.”

“And he had a good job?” Even saying it out loud didn’t help it seem any truer.

“That’s good news, right?” She didn’t seem to understand the impact the news had on him. “You can help him remember the time when he was successful. Encourage him to try to live like that again.”

“He wasn’t a drunk then”—he took a deep breath—“and he still didn’t want us.”

She touched his arm from across the table. The gentle contact was so loving, so caring, compared to the stark realization that had just plowed him over like a diesel. His dad had been a regular guy, with a job and everything.

Landon had always thought his dad loved the liquor more than anything else. But now he had a new fact. His dad just hadn’t loved him. Period.

“She wouldn’t have been in the store.” His voice sounded hollow, like it belonged to someone else. “She wouldn’t have had to work in a dive like that if we’d been a family.”

“I’m . . . sorry.” She slouched back against the booth. “I thought this would make you happy. I should never have told you about it.”

He looked in her eyes, at that look of pity he’d gotten all his life. Saliva poured into his mouth as bile churned in his esophagus. He thought he might vomit right there in Carmine’s.

He’d invited her out for a beer. Thought maybe they’d commiserate a while over what the senator had said to them. How he’d treated them. But instead she’d shown Landon—once again—how he wasn’t good enough. How his dad had held a good job and still didn’t want his son.

He’d thought he and Gina might be friends. That they might someday joke about what had just happened with the senator. But he wasn’t sure they’d ever be friends. Because she was perfect and he was . . . not.