Sloane met his gaze. “But I understand why you didn’t tell me. I’m an adult now. You were dealing with a child and you made your choices accordingly. It’s done now. We need to go on.”
“I love you as much as if you were mine,” Michael said as he stood once more.
She smiled, her tears returning. “I never doubted that. Ever. That’s why we can go on,”
she assured him. “But we need to talk about—”
Before she could finish her thought, the door opened wide and an unfamiliar young woman wearing a business suit walked in, clipboard in hand. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but this is important.”
“That’s okay; come in, Kate.” Michael turned to Sloane. “This is my new personal assistant, Kate Welles.”
Sloane smiled and the other woman acknowledged her with an apologetic nod before turning her attention to Senator Carlisle, her boss. “The press is getting antsy. What they know so far is that you’re here because your daughter’s been admitted. They don’t know why. They don’t know about the shooting,” she said, lowering her voice to a hushed whisper.
“It’s okay, Kate. Everyone in this room knows what happened,” Madeline said, laughing.
She glanced at Sloane. “She’s new,” she whispered.
Sloane grinned, but one look at the efficient Kate reminded her that they had a serious issue on their hands. The press had sniffed out a story and wouldn’t be satisfied until they knew all. And in small-town Yorkshire Falls, the entire town would be happy to oblige with information about Sloane, Chase, and their exploits. With heaven knew what kind of elaboration.
Unfortunately, they didn’t need embellishment. The truth was enough to derail a political campaign. Sloane’s stomach cramped with the knowledge she could destroy everything her father had ever worked for.
“It’s not your fault,” Michael said, reading her mind. “It’s mine for keeping a secret I knew had explosive potential.”
“But blame won’t get us anywhere, so let’s work on strategy instead.” Madeline sat on the edge of Sloane’s bedside and motioned Kate over.
The young woman pulled up a chair, while Michael leaned against the wall, clearly in thinking mode.
Kate clicked her pen, clearly ready to work. “The police put a lid on the story, but honestly, I don’t know how much longer we can hide the truth.”
The senator nodded his understanding. “Well, I say what I’ve always said. I should go public and deal with the consequences. I’ve already spoken to Kenneth,” Michael said of the current president, his running mate. “He knows what’s coming. I offered to withdraw before going public, but he insists on standing by me.”
“Dad—”
Michael shook his head. “No arguments. It’s about time I accept responsibility for what I did—to you, to Samson, and to the public. If the constituents can’t value honesty and apologies, then that’s that.” He spread his hands out in front of him. “I am who I am.”
“I’m proud to be your daughter,” Sloane told him. “And that will never, ever change.”
“So we agree?” he asked the people in the room. “We hold a press conference?”
“No.” Madeline spoke up. “We can’t.”
“Why not?” Sloane asked. “Dad’s right. It’s the logical answer.”
Madeline shifted, crossing, then uncrossing her legs. “I agree with the idea of revealing the truth, but I have to alter the means by which we do so. I’ve already promised a certain reporter an exclusive story.”
She refused to meet Sloane’s inquiring gaze, something that gave Sloane all the information she needed.
“Oh really?” Michael raised an eyebrow. “And who deserves the scoop of a lifetime?
That is, if you don’t mind sharing the answer with me, your husband, the person from whom you don’t keep secrets.”
Sloane followed the byplay, looking from her stepmother to her father. Like Michael, she waited for Madeline to speak. Unlike Michael, she already knew the answer.
Madeline flushed but didn’t flinch, nor did she seem particularly concerned about her husband’s reaction. “I promised the exclusive to—”
“Chase Chandler,” Sloane said, the knowledge settling inside her. “You promised Chase an exclusive in exchange for looking out for me. Right?” she asked, but didn’t need confirmation. Gut instinct was enough.
Though Chase had already admitted Madeline asked him to watch over her, he’d never mentioned any kind of quid pro quo. Sloane should have known that Chase the reporter had something in it for him. Her shoulder hurt, her heart hurt, and now her head hurt as well.
“It seemed prudent at the time.” Madeline glanced down at her skirt, waiting for the jury to pronounce her fate.
To Sloane, it didn’t matter. What was done, was done. Besides, nothing could have changed the outcome between her and Chase.
Michael let out a long breath. “Considering you were protecting our daughter, I say bravo.” He clapped his hands. “It seems we owe the man a story.”
Sloane shut her eyes. She’d known this was coming. One way or another, Chase was going to write Sloane’s story, expose her parentage, and obtain the scoop of his career.
Once he did that, once he validated himself as the reporter he’d always wanted to be, he’d be free to live the life he’d only dreamed of before. Big stories and no time for family or responsibility.
Just the way he’d always wanted. She just wished that in being the vehicle to his success, she didn’t have to lose him in the process.
“Set up a meeting with Chase Chandler,” Michael told Kate, oblivious to Sloane’s inner turmoil and pain.
From the slanted look her stepmother gave her, Madeline knew exactly what was going on in Sloane’s mind. Or rather, her heart. Not that it mattered. This was something not even a mother’s hug could cure.
Another knock on the door interrupted them and Eric walked inside. With his white coat, stethoscope, and concerned look on his face, he appeared every inch the doctor and nothing like Raina’s relaxed suitor. “Everything okay in here?” he asked.
Sloane nodded, then launched into introductions. When they were through, Eric faced Sloane. “There’s someone who’s been asking to see you. And now that you’ve had time with your family, if you don’t agree, I’m afraid he’s going to do some serious damage to our hospital.”