Power Switch (Power Play #3) - Kennedy L. Mitchell Page 0,1
the direct command from Celia to Trey. But the flush blooming across Trey's high cheekbones signals he didn't miss the superior tone in his mother’s words.
I swallow hard at the tension between the two. Searching for a distraction, I lift the flute to take another sip of champagne only to remember it’s empty.
With a quick commanding snap of Celia’s thin fingers, three servers appear out of nowhere, carrying silver trays weighted with fresh flutes filled to the brim with bubbling liquid. The slight tremor in my fingers gives away my growing nerves. Careful to not knock off the ten other delicate flutes, I rest the empty glass atop a tray and take a full one in return. With both our glasses refreshed, we nod to Trey and the senator before shifting away from the men. Weaving through the partygoers, Celia smiles at several, quickly dismissing their attempts to engage her in conversation as we continue our short journey across the bursting room.
“Is he behaving?” she asks, head dipped to keep the words between us. We pause at a secluded spot along the far wall where we can talk freely and watch the room.
“Of course. Trey knows how to work the crowd in situations like this. Were you concerned he wouldn’t?” I ask cautiously.
Not a single hair in her fancy updo shifts as Celia shakes her head. With the movement, her diamond chandelier earrings catch the light, the bursting sparkles snagging my envious attention. The Hawthornes are rich, but the Bensons are richer. No doubt those earrings are worth over a million and aren’t her only pair.
“I’m afraid he might act foolish. He truly believes he’s in love with that wretched woman,” she says on a disappointed sigh. With her free hand, she presses two fingers to her left temple and massages the sensitive area. “I'm concerned about him, about our family.”
Closing the gap between us, I clasp her elbow. “Why? What’s going on that has you concerned?”
“She's not the right woman for him, for us. That woman is selfish and deceiving. I’m almost certain she’s manipulated his feelings for her own safety. Were you aware he almost died for her recently?”
A gasp escapes. To cover my shock, I hold two fingers in front of my lips. “He did what?”
“My son is blinded by what he believes is love. I can't—” Celia stops to clear her throat of the building emotions. “I can't lose him. He’s my only son. Which is why I did what I did, why we made our agreement. I know he considers what I did to be deceiving, but I'm only trying to save him. Save his life. That woman is not only a threat to his budding political career but also his safety.”
“I—” I stop, unsure of what I want to say in response. My thoughts jumble between knowing Randi isn’t the type of person to manipulate someone for her own gain and wanting to believe Celia. I shake my head to clear the conflicting thoughts, but the several glasses of champagne are making my judgments and emotions unclear on where I stand. One thing is clear: Trey’s safety is as important as my own. “What can I do?”
An almost smile lifts her sullen face. “I knew I could count on you, Jessica. Your love for him is clear.” Celia gives a reassuring squeeze to the fingers still wrapped around her elbow. “I need you to show him that it's simple attraction, not love, with that Randi woman. Make him see that you're the right choice for him, to come back to his family, his destiny. Bring my son back to me and his father. Please.” The glowing overhead lights shimmer off Celia’s damp dark lashes.
“How can I accomplish that?” Even with the champagne coursing through my system, I’m aware what she’s asking is a near impossible feat. Trey has run from this life for years. He lives for his role with the secret service. Only recently did he begrudgingly accept to come back into the spotlight—all for Randi. How can I convince him that he not only doesn’t love her but needs to come back into the political fold for himself, not her?
“My son is a good man, one who is driven to protect no matter the odds. This is where you need to draw his focus. Pull it away from protecting that woman to protecting you.”
“I don't understand.” My head swirls. How many glasses have I had?