Page 8 of The Bitter Truth


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“What the hell, Brynn?” she snapped, a hand clinging to her chest.

“Sorry, sorry!” I ran straight to the bathroom, starting up the shower and jumping in after stripping out of my clothes. I gave my ass a thorough wash, shaved, then got out to sift through my closet.

As I plucked out a red bodycon dress with a draped collar—one that I knew would bring Dominic to his knees—Shavonne knocked on my door then cracked it open.

“What’s the rush?” she asked, as I dropped the towel and applied lotion. She never minded my nakedness. It sort of became that way for us since we had to share a bathroom. She’d be showering and I’d be brushing my teeth or styling my hair. Perks of being roommates with one bathroom, I suppose.

“I have a date,” I told her, smiling over my shoulder.

“A date? With who?” she asked, folding her arms over her chest.

“This guy I met at Franco’s.” I wasn’t about to tell her it was Dominic. I may or may not have mentioned him to her a time or two . . . or twenty.

Shavonne asked, “What’s his name?”

“I can’t remember,” I lied as I slipped into the dress.

“Brynn, are you out of your mind?” she snapped. “Going out with a man whose name you don’t know? There are all kinds of predators out here.”

“He’s not a predator.” I found my strappy black heels in the back of the closet. “He has money.”

“Okay? Predators can also be rich,” she countered, sticking her neck out. “Should I drop you off?”

“No, Vonne, I’m good. Okay?” I told her, breathless. I was struggling to breathe while bent over to strap the shoes.

She huffed. “Alright. Whatever.”

I rolled my eyes as I put on the other heel.

Shavonne was paranoid in all ways. I suppose I couldn’t blame her. She’d lost both her parents during this crazy cruise accident. She had to live with her aunt and uncle who were these hippie potheads—good people with great intentions, but completely blitzed all the time and forgetful as hell.

I watched Shavonne walk away before going to the bathroom to apply a little makeup. I checked my phone and was losing time. It would take me twenty minutes just to get to the Ritz Carlton from my apartment and I’d spent a good twenty of it showering, plucking, shaving, and applying makeup, so I went for my purse and popped a mint instead of brushing my teeth (what? I brushed them that morning) and headed to the door.

“Text me!” Shavonne yelled before I could escape.

I would text her, but I wasn’t sure how much information I would feed her. This was likely going to be a one-time thing. One night with the grown and sexy Dominic Baker and it’d never happen again. As much as I loved Shavonne and felt like I could tell her everything, some secrets were best kept to myself. Dominic had always been a sore subject for me, and now that he was back, I wanted to make him mine again . . . quietly.

EIGHT

DOMINIC

The crowd is eager to meet Dominic after his speech. These moments are what give him drive and the will to continue. He’d done everything he needed to do and traveled all over the state of North Carolina to try and win the people over. He’d had his share of bad luck with some people throwing eggs at his car and even fruit at his suits, but it came with the territory. Not everyone was going to like him, and he was aware of that way before running.

He was a middle-aged Black man and if he had to be honest, North Carolina wasn’t the friendliest place in the world for a Black man to be. Not to mention his competition, Paula, had a lot of connections in the state—way more than he did—but that wasn’t going to stop him. All he had to do was push through, keep his head up, stay out of trouble, and remain positive, but that was much easier said than done. He lacked sleep and he was becoming so stressed that he had to start dyeing the grays in his hair.

He hadn’t slept properly in months—years, actually—and he couldn’t blame it on his campaign. It’d started long before that, but he tried not to think of that terrible secret as he shook his future voters’ hands and smiled, took selfies with some of them, and handed kids stickers that Jolene insisted was a good way to engage the kids and warm the hearts of the mothers.

At the thought, Dominic’s eyes swiveled to his wife, and he did his best not to frown as he spotted her talking to the Lieutenant Governor, Samuel Sanchez. She was laughing about something, while Samuel leaned in with that stupidly charming smile.

“Hey, Mel, can you tell Jo to come over and greet the people with me,” Dom requests and Melissa turns and makes her way to Jo. As Dominic shakes an older man’s hand who is talking about his situation in a retirement community, Dominic cuts his eyes to Jo again. She places a caring hand on Sanchez’s upper arm, smiles at him, then follows Mel toward the waiting crowd.

Instantly, Jo is smiling and interacting with a middle-aged woman who has a toddler on her hip. He hates how she does that—just flips a switch and pretends she didn’t make a mistake. The toddler, a chubby-faced girl with sepia skin and pig tails with pink bows, is sucking her thumb and blinking slowly, as if she needs a nap, and the mother is very animated as she blabs about women’s rights and how empowered she feels seeing Jolene being such a force as a wife and working woman.

That pleases Dominic to hear in more ways than even Jo realizes. His wife, though infuriating at times, is a force, and her skill in marketing and even with his speeches has proved that. She doesn’t do all his speeches, but she definitely assists him with many. She knows exactly how to pull at the heartstrings of the crowd with her words, while also making them sound like his. She knows his voice more than anyone and without her, Dominic wouldn’t be doing nearly as well as he is now. That, plus her A-plus marketing has truly skyrocketed Dominic’s campaign. There isn’t a corner you can turn in this city without seeing a Baker 2023 poster, and she and Melissa have set up many local interviews for him, so his face is consistently on local news channels, and even a few national news channels. They pencil him in for the best events to attend to further boost his image and he’s grateful for that.

Jolene wraps up with the giddy mother and Dominic takes her hand. When her attention is on his, he squeezes her hand tightly, and she works her jaw. He wants her to know he’s angry about Sanchez, but they’ll discuss it later. Right now, they need to keep up appearances.

Dominic uses his other hand to shake, smiles, and does his bidding. But then his heart drops to his belly, and he can suddenly hear his pulse in his ears. In front of him is the witchy lady who was in the crowd. She stares at him—through him, really—her brown eyes near black and a barely-there smile on her mouth. She stares at him like she knows things, like he’s made of glass. He studies the security detail officers on the other side of the gate with relief. He can’t guarantee this woman won’t jump forward and slice his throat or something else crazy.

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