Page 37 of Shadowed Agenda
She picked at the scrambled eggs on her plate. The hotel restaurant’s food was exceptional. They’d even offered their full breakfast buffet despite the early hour. Regan had declined. Pavlo had eaten enough for three people. This morning, everything that touched Regan’s tastebuds was bland. The buffet would have been wasted on her.
Pavlo had insisted that he and Drake would discretely take care of the message scrawled across the bathroom mirror in her hotel suite. They’d contacted a friend of theirs with the NYPD, a detective.
Exhausted, she’d curled up on the couch in Pavlo’s suite, waiting for things to be sorted out. She’d fallen asleep. When she woke up three hours later, she was in Pavlo’s bed, the down duvet covering her. Pavlo was asleep on the couch.
Regan hadn’t been able to go back to sleep once she’d woken up. All night, her thoughts flitted between keeping Emmeline safe and her feelings for Pavlo. In the wee hours of the morning, exhaustion had finally claimed her.
“We’re not leaving until you finish your eggs, a strip of bacon, and one slice of toast,” Pavlo said, sounding exactly like her when Emmeline refused to eat. As he spoke, he scrolled through the day’s headlines on his cell phone. “Our first event may not start until ten thirty, but Isla’s filled the rest of the day.”
He was right. Regan took a mouthful of food and then nibbled on a strip of bacon, something she regarded as a treat. A few days after her birth, Emmeline’s pediatrician had outlined the surgeries her daughter would require. Bacon immediately became a treat instead of a weekend staple, along with other things Regan could no longer afford.
She’d intended to spend a few hours writing before the book convention’s event. Tired and worried, Regan was certain she wouldn’t get a word on the page. Crawling back into bed might be the better option.
“We both know I have to agree to do the private book signing,” Regan said, bringing up the second topic they’d been avoiding. “The threats will only get worse.”
“I’m sorry they’ve forced you into this,” Pavlo said, reaching over the restaurant table to snag one of her uneaten strips of bacon. “It’s the safest option until we figure out what’s going on. We can re-evaluate when we have a better picture.”
“The Senator wouldn’t have considered requesting the book signing if Isla hadn’t cooked up the idea to get a shot at publicizing his new book.” Regan ate a strip of bacon and pushed her plate closer to Pavlo so the remaining bacon would be within easy reach.
While she’d laid awake last night, Regan had worked out how to announce the book signing.
“I’m assuming the cocky grin on your face has something to do with Isla,” Pavlo said, and Regan was sure his upturned mouth matched hers.
“I’m going to take away some of Isla’s control by giving Finlay the scoop and not telling her,” Regan said with a full-on smile.Take that, Isla.
“Perfect.” Pavlo howled with laughter, and the few people in the restaurant glanced their way.
“She can find out along with everyone else,” Regan said, spreading peanut butter and jam over a slice of toast. “Finlay will give the announcement enough fanfare to convince the Senator I’ve accepted. I’ll give her an exclusive interview after the event.”
Regan pulled her cell phone out of her handbag. A few minutes later, Finlay texted her reply.
“Finlay will get something out immediately. She’s meeting me at my suite, and I’ll update her on last night’s events.”
Regan was glad Finlay had suggested getting caught up this morning. She was still nervous about being alone in her hotel suite.
The manager had re-keyed her suite again. He’d offered to move her to another suite, but Regan knew it would be pointless. The Senator’s supporters would find out where she was and a way to access the suite.
“Isla won’t be happy when she finds out you went to Finlay. Don’t return her texts or calls.” Pavlo was enjoying Regan’s scheme as much as she was. “Let her stew. Don’t answer the door if she shows up at your suite.”
Regan laughed. She would enjoy tormenting Isla. Not being in control would drive her crazy.
“We should go,” Pavlo said as Regan finished her last bite of toast. He gestured to their server for the bill.
“Last night scared me, but I can’t let it control me,” Regan said, placing her napkin on the table. “I need to take the elevator without you. I can’t let my fear become a phobia.”
Pavlo looked at her, not sure what to say. He hadn’t considered the effect the brief trip in the crammed elevator would have on her. Neither had she—until they’d headed to the elevator for breakfast.
The panic attack had been brief, only a few seconds, but very real. It had caught her off guard. Regan knew if she didn’t deal with it right now, it would only become worse.
“Five minutes,” Regan said and raised her hands. “What could happen in five minutes?”
“Only five minutes,” Pavlo said, a muscle clenched along his jaw. Regan hadn’t expected him to be thrilled with her request, but at least he understood. “You’re going to your suite, not the garage. I better find you waiting for me by the elevators.”
So that’s what he’d been worried about all morning. He thought she might head out to the cottage to pick Emmeline up and then disappear until the private book signing was no longer an issue. When she’d had time to think it over, Regan agreed Pavlo and Drake had been right. Other than her parents, only a few people at Shadow Defense knew where she’d left Emmeline.
“No trips to the cottage. I promise,” Regan said and heaved a sigh before standing up. “But I can’t promise you I’m not going to scream at Mackenzie if she gives me another excuse for why I can’t talk to Emmeline.”
Their relationship would never be warm and friendly, but each time Regan had called, Mackenzie had become frostier. Regan hadn’t thought that possible. She dreaded spending the weekend with her sister. Why couldn’t her mother stop pushing for something that would never happen?