The Name They Wouldn't Say

I told Charlotte what my business had been before I told her what people called me.

Defense contracts. Licensed brokerage. Security interests. Then the side agreements I'd allowed because profitable men were very good at making exceptions sound temporary.

Kane had been part of those exceptions. Removing him had cost me blood and years.

Charlotte listened without interrupting.

When I finished, she looked at my hands.

"So the driver was real, but it wasn't your whole life."

"No."

"And the man who came after Summer wanted leverage over all that."

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me at the garage?"

"Because you were looking at me like I might still be somebody worth bringing home. I wanted another minute of that."

She looked up.

"You don't get to keep that look by hiding what might change it."

"I know."

"I'm frightened," she said. "I'm also angry. Neither means I've stopped wanting you."

I sat beside her.

"If you don't want to attend the reception, I'll understand."

"It's raising money for the children's center my company supports. I'm not abandoning it because Blake Sutton invited a bully."

"Then we prepare. Summer stays here with Nora. Your people handle the guest list. Mine handle anyone Kane sends. You know every change."

She nodded.

"And what are we telling people about you?"

"That I'm with you."

"That much they'll notice."

I touched her hand.

"Whatever else happens, I don't let you stand alone."

The following evening, I wore a black suit instead of the blue shirt. Charlotte stared when I stepped into the hall.

"You owned that all along?"

"I had it brought over."

"I bought you shirts."

"I like your shirts."

She walked around me once, inspecting the transformation.

"You enjoyed letting me think I could afford you."

"You can."

"Don't flatter yourself. I might negotiate the price down."

I caught her hand and kissed her knuckles.

"You already have."

Summer appeared before Charlotte could answer. She wore pajamas and carried a picture she'd drawn that afternoon.

Three uneven people stood beside a truck. The smallest had a rabbit.

"Don't forget to come back," she said.

I knelt.

"I won't."

She handed me the picture.

I folded it carefully and put it inside my jacket.

At the reception, Charlotte's staff greeted her warmly. Arthur arrived, saw me, and came straight over.

He shook Charlotte's hand first.

"Your proposal has been approved. My office should have sent confirmation."

"It did. Thank you."

"It should have been approved before," he added.

I appreciated that more than another attempt to please me.

Blake approached while Charlotte was speaking to a donor. He looked from my suit to Arthur standing beside me.

"You've made an effort," he said.

"Charlotte asked me to dress appropriately."

"She always did like a project."

Arthur's expression cooled.

"I would choose another subject."

Blake laughed, uncertain now.

"Come on. We're all friends."

"We aren't," I said.

He left before Charlotte returned.

For the first half hour, the evening worked. Charlotte introduced me as Summer's father. It was a title I liked more each time she used it.

Then the presentation screen changed.

A photograph of my truck appeared, followed by one of Charlotte outside the garage. The room quieted.

Blake stepped toward the microphone.

"Before we discuss corporate donations, perhaps our hosts should address certain questions about judgment."

Charlotte stopped beside me.

I felt her fingers tighten once around my hand.

"Turn that off," she told the event manager.

The screen went black immediately. The staff were hers. Blake had mistaken a microphone for authority.

He kept speaking.

"Shareholders may be interested in the man she has installed in her home. There are reports—"

"You can send a report to my board," Charlotte said. "You won't use a children's fundraiser to gossip about my daughter."

People began moving away from him. He saw it and reached for the last card he'd been given.

"Your daughter may have a criminal for a father."

I stepped forward.

"You wanted my attention. You have it. What did Kane promise you?"

Blake's face changed.

Arthur moved beside Charlotte. Several other guests recognized the name Kane and stopped pretending they weren't listening.

A man near the terrace door reached for his phone.

Miles intercepted him. I saw a second man try to move toward Charlotte, and I pulled her behind my shoulder before her security team closed the distance.

The man froze when he saw my face clearly.

"Reed," he said.

Someone beside him whispered, "The Merchant of Death."

The words traveled farther than the microphone had.

Blake looked from the man to me. All the contempt left his expression.

I had not wanted Charlotte to hear that name in a room full of people. Now I watched her absorb it without letting go of my hand.

"Is that what they call you?" she asked quietly.

"Yes."

She swallowed, then moved to stand beside me instead of behind me.

I turned to Blake.

"You brought men connected to threats against my child into this room. Your invitation, the arrangements you made, and the messages you exchanged are being documented. You don't get to describe that as concern for shareholders."

He tried to speak. Charlotte lifted a hand.

"Leave," she said. "My security team will accompany you."

Arthur opened a path. Nobody stepped in to defend Blake.

The event manager approached Charlotte, looking horrified.

"I'm so sorry. We can cancel—"

"No," she said. "We have people here who came to help children. We'll finish what we started."

She looked at me.

"Stay."

I did.

Twenty minutes later, she gave the speech she'd prepared. Her voice stayed steady. I stood at the edge of the room, watching a woman who had every reason to leave choose to remain.

When she finished, the applause was real.

She came back to me, took my hand, and asked Miles whether the men had been removed.

He nodded.

My phone vibrated as we reached the car.

A message from Kane contained a photograph of Charlotte onstage.

Under it were the words: Now everybody knows where to hurt you.

Charlotte read it over my shoulder.

"Then stop hiding," she said. "Make sure they know what happens if they try."