Make Me (34 page)
Kyle reached in to press the close button and wiggled his fingers at him as the door slid shut. He looked at Thomas, unaffected, with little more than mild entertainment in his eyes. “Tootles, asshole.”
* * *
Olivia waved to the crowd with a big, bold smile on her signature red lips. The crowd erupted around Manny and Rebecca as they stood amid the throngs of loyalists. Olivia was still loved by the people in this room, the many supporters who had worked the phones and passed out flyers for one common goal. Kyle was waiting in the wings with Sam and Gavin for the moment they’d be called to stand with Olivia, shoulder to shoulder. It warmed Manny to know it wouldn’t be an act.
Stepping into the ballroom, Manny had half-expected to be booed on the spot, but there had been no such vitriol. Sure, some people stared and pointed. That kind of thing would probably go on until the election was a long-forgotten memory. But there were unexpected reactions too. Manny never could have predicted the personal words of support they received from a small group of enthusiastic middle-aged woman.
“God bless you,” one salt-and-pepper-haired woman said to him, holding fast to the hand of the woman next to her.
Now, as Olivia stood at the tall wooden podium and began her words of gratitude and perseverance, Manny draped his arms around Rebecca’s shoulders and thought that he might just be blessed after all.
Then Olivia stopped abruptly, clearing her throat. A hushed murmur took over the crowd, and she gazed off to the partition where her family waited for their cue.
“You know what?” she said finally. “I’m going to take my son’s lead and speak to you from my heart.” Olivia released the papers in her hand and left them on the podium. “I ran a clean campaign,” she began. “You…all of you helped me be proud of the work we did together. The sacrifices that were made in support of this campaign have humbled me, and truly, I can’t say how appreciative I am.” She looked over at Gavin then, and he stepped forward and blew her a kiss.
“And my children,” Olivia laughed. “Who, by the way, aren’t children anymore—I am so proud of both of them.” Olivia waved for all of them to join her. “Kyle, Samantha, get your father and come out here with me.” The crowd cheered, and the three waved out into the audience. “Kyle worked tirelessly on my behalf from Long Island to Buffalo, helping to keep this campaign funded and moving forward. He is a hero in my eyes and wise beyond his years, and I don’t think I’ve ever told him that.” Olivia reached for his hand. “Did you know he’s building a foundation for undervalued students?” The crowd cheered. “I look forward to helping you with that, son. Looks like I’m going to have some free time on my hands.”
Everyone laughed, including Manny. This was the Olivia he remembered from his teenage years, the one who had opened her home to him when he had no one to turn to. Kyle looked glad to have her back as well.
“And Samantha is returning soon to Paris to continue her studies in international law. Yes, ladies and gentleman, she’s a smart one. I am simply brimming with pride over their accomplishments.
“The voters have made their choice. So now I will gracefully step away from the work I have so enjoyed, serving the people of New York in Washington, and I plan to refocus on my wonderful family. Thank you to all of you who believed in me, and I’m sure we haven’t seen the last of each other.”
Olivia stepped away from the podium, and the Hunter family shared a hug while the crowd roared with applause. Once he was back in the wings, Gavin snatched up Olivia in a bear hug and kissed her like a man who’d been waiting a millennium for the privilege. Manny smiled at Kyle and pulled him into a similar hug. But it was Kyle who planted a sweet, lingering kiss on his lips. Then he grabbed Rebecca and produced a set of three brass keys from his pocket, jingling them in the air.
“Home?” he asked simply.
“Home,” Manny and Rebecca said at the same time.
Olivia tugged Gavin toward the Town Car waiting by the side entrance. “Sounds good to me.”
An unmistakably Russian accent drew Manny’s attention. It was raspy and deep, and the owner had a soft kiss for Sam. The man who’d suddenly appeared was huge, in a polished leather blazer and creased, fitted trousers. Everyone turned toward the sound of Sam clearing her throat.
“Uh…Mom…Dad…I want you to meet Oleg.” Sam’s voice was both excited and meek. She pursed her lips and pressed her fingers together in front of them. “And…I need to tell you something…about Paris.”
Epilogue
Rebecca dug her toes into her fluffy shag rug and sank deep into the comfy cushions of her gray suede sofa. Her things still looked out of place in the old Bennett house. The floral wallpaper would need to come down, and the heavy drapes had no place in a home full of such life. Burgundy was her least favorite color, and it seemed that Mrs. Dawson had overdosed on it. Manny passed the tip of his finger behind her ear and let it trail down her neck. She turned to him as he sat down next to her on the sofa.
He leaned in for a sip of her bottom lip. “How was work, sweetheart?”
Rebecca smiled back at him and wondered if it was possible to feel her eyes shine. Work had been wonderful, challenging and rewarding. She’d already thanked Olivia over lunch at Tavern on the Green for the chance to say that again. Rebecca proudly paid the check with her new salary as Senior Director of Special Collections. A proper ladies’ lunch, Olivia had called it. With still a few months left in office, and consequently the ear of the state budget office, Olivia had exercised her influence to reinstate Rebecca’s department. She might have been known as a fiscal conservative, but Rebecca was coming to see the generosity of Olivia Hunter’s heart. Olivia had always looked out for her own, and with a hand placed gently over Rebecca’s when lingering stares of fellow patrons turned into incredulous whispers, Rebecca felt like her name could one day be included on that very short list of people Olivia considered family.
“Work was great. I don’t even mind the commute.”
“That’s because I drive.”
“
Even though
you drive,” Rebecca joked.
He chuckled and shrugged off the comment, his eyes twinkling. “Holly’s not the only one I like to ride hard.”
Rebecca licked her bottom lip. The heat rising in her had nothing to do with embarrassment. The flush of red to her cheeks was simply her body responding to Manny’s blatant invitation. “Don’t I know it.”
The doorbell rang through the thickened air, drawing a quizzical look to both of their faces.
Kyle walked past the living room on his way to the front door, wiping bread crumbs from his hands on a kitchen towel, before slinging it over his shoulder. “Are we expecting company?” he asked, reaching for the doorknob.
Manny and Rebecca shook their heads. Kyle turned toward them. “If one of you ordered takeout behind my back…”
“No, Kyle. We’re your willing guinea pigs,” Rebecca answered.
Manny leaned over and whispered in her ear, “For better or for worse.”
“I heard that!” Kyle said with a smile in his voice. He’d been trying new recipes all week, some a hit, some not so much. No matter, Kyle’s domestic side was endlessly entertaining. She’d even ordered an apron for him that said, “Shag the Chef.” Oh, the joys of Internet shopping.
He opened the door, and Rebecca heard a female voice, cheery but soft. “Hi there, my name is Rory. I live just around the corner from you and well…I wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.”
Kyle smiled at her and invited her in. She held a cellophane-covered basket of muffins, which she offered to him.
“Wow, how nice. Thank you,” Kyle said and gestured her into the living room.
Rebecca took note of her warm smile and the way she looked both Manny and her directly in the eye when she introduced herself. She extended long fingers with a neat purple manicure, first at Rebecca and then at Manny.
“I’m Kyle Hunter, and this is Rebecca Sinclair and Manny Tescadero.”
“I know,” Rory said simply, and Rebecca felt her stomach drop. The press had finally tired of scandalizing their relationship, but she could still feel people’s judgment trying to choke her like a dirty cloud. Rebecca vowed to ignore their poisonous remarks and nasty sneers, and every day it got a little easier. But not in her own living room. She wouldn’t stand for being judged in her own home.
“Well, here we are in the flesh. You can go tell your neighbors that we don’t have tails.”
Manny and Kyle shot her a surprised look, and Rebecca realized she was being just as judgmental. She’d made another promise—to open herself, to trust more and give people a chance. “I’m sorry, that was a bad joke. Won’t you sit down?”
Rory smiled at her and accepted the invitation, gentle sincerity present in her brown eyes. “No worries. It’s a small town. News spreads quickly. I felt it was important to let you know that you have friends here. My fiancé, Spencer, and our partner, Jack, are a committed trio. We’ve been together for almost a year.” Rory looked directly at Rebecca. “I understand how precious your privacy is, but when we heard you guys had moved in, we just couldn’t wait to invite you over. How cool is it to have another trio right around the corner?”
Rebecca was almost speechless. “It’s pretty cool.” Internally, the new Rebecca poked her nonjudgmental, open-minded tongue out at the old Rebecca. Outwardly she grinned.
“I know, right?” Rory said, with the same optimistic light brightening her pretty face.
“Just let us know when,” Kyle said. “I’m sure these guys are looking forward to a break from my cooking.”
Manny reached for Kyle’s knee to give it a squeeze. “Babe, it’s not that we don’t appreciate your efforts…”
Rebecca shot him a lopsided grin. “And you have plenty of time to torture…I mean treat us to your amazing concoctions.”
Kyle laughed. “Rory, do you hear these ingrates?”
Rory laughed too. “OK, so how does Saturday sound? Our info is inside the basket with the muffins.”
“Perfect,” Manny said. “We’ll bring the drinks. Wine, beer, or margaritas?”
Rory stood up. “Yes,” she said with a giggle. “We like it all.”
Rebecca stood up too. “Thank you for the muffins,” she said and had a sudden need to hug her. “And thank you for the warm welcome. I didn’t know how much I needed it.”
Rory squeezed her shoulders, “No crime in needing a friend.”
Rebecca nodded, looking forward to the possibilities of a new friendship for the first time in a very long while. After all, two sexy Marine veterans with hearts big enough to forgive and brave enough to love had made her strong enough to jump and see what happens.
Acknowledgements
Once again, in the final days of producing this novel—as the final edits are put to rest, as my beloved characters take their bows and rest for another day in the spotlight—I am reminded of the people who helped bring
Make Me
to life. And how did it all start? A name, a profession, a hair color was the beginning of Rebecca. B.W. you gave me a great mound of clay to mold. Big smooch to my editor, Julian Smith, who always knows when to give me a push when I need it.
And to my wonderful author friends J.L. and R.M. who read early drafts and gave their valuable feedback, even as their writing deadlines loomed. I am forever grateful for your valuable time and support.
As always, my awesome readers and the enthusiastic supporters I am lucky to call friends are in my corner. I love you guys. Thanks for all you do to help spread the word.
To my growing family, who increased by one this year, thank you for your ever-loving patience as I spent more hours on my laptop and less time playing catch.
And last, thank you Rebecca, Manny, and Kyle. Truly the characters tell this story. Somehow I feel like I want to thank them, too!
~ About the Author ~
If you asked her, she'd say it all started with her vast collection of paper dolls. That's how long Alyssa Turner has been crafting intricate story lines full of twists and turns and memorable characters. Thirty years later, her stories are now quite grown up.
She writes erotica and erotic romance in all lengths, having been featured in the notable anthologies of Best Women's Erotica, edited by Violet Blue and several from Rachel Kramer Bussel. With her proclivity for the ménage genre, Alyssa is often recognized for weaving complexity and emotional depth into her characters and plots.
Alyssa has more than several full length novels under her belt and no two stories are the same. For Alyssa, it's much more fun to try something new. Read more about Alyssa Turner and preview her published works on her blog.
http://alyssaturnerwrites.blogspot.com
Discover more about Alyssa Turner here
http://alyssaturnerwrites.blogspot.com
http://www.facebook.com/alyssaturnerwrites
http://www.goodreads.com/AlyssaTurner
~ Also by Alyssa Turner ~
