Read Online Sweet Southern Betrayal by Robin Covington - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Robin Covington
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foster home number four.
“I meant the dog,” she said, taking two steps backward.
“Right.” Teague laughed, the deep sound reverberating off the walls in the otherwise silent house. “That was Buddy. The best dog ever. He died when I was in law school at Harvard.”
“I always wanted a dog,” she said. “But I was never allowed to have one.”
“Allergies?”
“No, foster care.” She felt rather than heard his sharp inhale of breath, the tension in his body communicating that the topic of her crappy background made him a little uncomfortable. “I could only take what I could fit in a small suitcase, and pets were never permitted.”
“Do you have one now?”
“No. But now that I own my home, I plan on getting one.” Risa was done with talking about her. Time to change the subject. “This is a big house. Why do you live in the apartment?”
Teague barked out a laugh as he took another drink of water. “Thirty-two-year-old men do not live with their mothers.”
“So which one was your room?” She walked over to a closed door, hand hovering over the doorknob. He shook his head and she moved to the next one, grasping the knob when he gave one quick nod. Opening the door she was hit with the overwhelming smell of furniture polish and fresh linen, the sign of a room still tended regularly. She flipped on the light switch.
“It’s like a shrine of Teague,” she murmured as she walked fully into the room, barely registering the large, heavy four-poster bed for the display that could rival a museum exhibit. A desk and built-in bookcases sat on a long wall that was covered with trophies, certificates, plaques, photographs, ribbons, many of them saying first place.
Teague was an overachiever.
She stood in front of the wall, reading aloud as she scanned the impressive wall of achievement. “Quarterback and captain of the football team. Senior page in US Senate. Rhodes scholarship. University of Virginia. Harvard Law School. Clerkship in the Supreme Court.” Risa turned, leaning to rest against the edge of the desk. Teague was watching her, his eyes cautious, but the tiny, amused tilt of his mouth told her he was waiting to see what she had to say about this display. “Have you been running for president since birth?”
“From the womb, actually. With two godfathers, one a US Senator and the other Vice President, it was inevitable.”
“What?” She had been kidding. “Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack.” Teague stepped forward, knee-to-knee with her as he reached over and grabbed a photograph from one of the bookshelves and handed it to her.
Risa scanned the photograph. Teague stood between two older men in a fancy government office—that wasn’t the Oval Office, was it? He was striking in one of his custom-fitted suits. She couldn’t help but wonder what a guy like Teague was doing dealing with a man like Big Tony. They might as well have been from separate planets. But she understood why Big Tony would want dirt on Teague—it would never hurt to have a politician in your back pocket. And Teague was definitely on his way to the big time.
“Very impressive.”
“You don’t sound impressed,” he said, taking the frame from her and replacing it on the shelf.
“I’m…” Risa paused, trying to gather her thoughts and avoid insulting him when he had obviously worked so hard. “Is it something you want to do?”
“Of course it is. It’s been my goal for as long as I can remember.”
“It just doesn’t sound like you had much of a choice. Don’t get me wrong, that’s a good goal to have, but it sounds like it was chosen for you.”
“I’m pretty stubborn. I don’t think anyone is going to make me do anything I don’t want to do.”
“Marrying a showgirl from Vegas wasn’t on the list, I bet.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
“I’m so sorry.” And she was. Not just for Big Tony but also for missing out on really knowing the man in front of her. It was definitely
“I meant the dog,” she said, taking two steps backward.
“Right.” Teague laughed, the deep sound reverberating off the walls in the otherwise silent house. “That was Buddy. The best dog ever. He died when I was in law school at Harvard.”
“I always wanted a dog,” she said. “But I was never allowed to have one.”
“Allergies?”
“No, foster care.” She felt rather than heard his sharp inhale of breath, the tension in his body communicating that the topic of her crappy background made him a little uncomfortable. “I could only take what I could fit in a small suitcase, and pets were never permitted.”
“Do you have one now?”
“No. But now that I own my home, I plan on getting one.” Risa was done with talking about her. Time to change the subject. “This is a big house. Why do you live in the apartment?”
Teague barked out a laugh as he took another drink of water. “Thirty-two-year-old men do not live with their mothers.”
“So which one was your room?” She walked over to a closed door, hand hovering over the doorknob. He shook his head and she moved to the next one, grasping the knob when he gave one quick nod. Opening the door she was hit with the overwhelming smell of furniture polish and fresh linen, the sign of a room still tended regularly. She flipped on the light switch.
“It’s like a shrine of Teague,” she murmured as she walked fully into the room, barely registering the large, heavy four-poster bed for the display that could rival a museum exhibit. A desk and built-in bookcases sat on a long wall that was covered with trophies, certificates, plaques, photographs, ribbons, many of them saying first place.
Teague was an overachiever.
She stood in front of the wall, reading aloud as she scanned the impressive wall of achievement. “Quarterback and captain of the football team. Senior page in US Senate. Rhodes scholarship. University of Virginia. Harvard Law School. Clerkship in the Supreme Court.” Risa turned, leaning to rest against the edge of the desk. Teague was watching her, his eyes cautious, but the tiny, amused tilt of his mouth told her he was waiting to see what she had to say about this display. “Have you been running for president since birth?”
“From the womb, actually. With two godfathers, one a US Senator and the other Vice President, it was inevitable.”
“What?” She had been kidding. “Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack.” Teague stepped forward, knee-to-knee with her as he reached over and grabbed a photograph from one of the bookshelves and handed it to her.
Risa scanned the photograph. Teague stood between two older men in a fancy government office—that wasn’t the Oval Office, was it? He was striking in one of his custom-fitted suits. She couldn’t help but wonder what a guy like Teague was doing dealing with a man like Big Tony. They might as well have been from separate planets. But she understood why Big Tony would want dirt on Teague—it would never hurt to have a politician in your back pocket. And Teague was definitely on his way to the big time.
“Very impressive.”
“You don’t sound impressed,” he said, taking the frame from her and replacing it on the shelf.
“I’m…” Risa paused, trying to gather her thoughts and avoid insulting him when he had obviously worked so hard. “Is it something you want to do?”
“Of course it is. It’s been my goal for as long as I can remember.”
“It just doesn’t sound like you had much of a choice. Don’t get me wrong, that’s a good goal to have, but it sounds like it was chosen for you.”
“I’m pretty stubborn. I don’t think anyone is going to make me do anything I don’t want to do.”
“Marrying a showgirl from Vegas wasn’t on the list, I bet.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
“I’m so sorry.” And she was. Not just for Big Tony but also for missing out on really knowing the man in front of her. It was definitely
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