Target

Chapter One

Chapter One

Brina

(Thirteen Years Later)

I never thought I’d step foot back into Wyoming, but here I was, sitting at the kitchen table of our ranch, the night before Christmas, just as I’d been every year of my life. It’d been thirteen years since my father’s assassination, and my mother refused to let me spend the holidays elsewhere. She said it was tradition, and it was something my father would’ve wanted.

Looking out the kitchen window, I could still remember the exact place the bullet came through; the smell of my father’s blood raced back to me.

“Want some hot chocolate?” My mother’s voice interrupted my thoughts. She ran a hand through her silvery blonde hair, her lips quivering. My heart couldn’t take it.

Swallowing hard, I walked back over to the table and grabbed my sketchpad. “Thanks, but no. I need to concentrate on my drawings.”

Remembering that night fueled the anger inside of me. You’d have thought with all the protection we had, no one would’ve been able to penetrate through our defenses. It just confirmed how a shrewd person could get through a dozen guards. What made it worse was the man who did it was still alive, living off our tax dollars in a prison in California. He was a raging fanatic who hated all Republicans. My father was just the unlucky one to have won the election. One day, Sanders would rot in hell.

“We could always play cards,” she suggested.

I froze. I hadn’t played cards with anyone since that night. It was something my father and I always did together. “I can’t, Mom.” Holding my sketchpad to my chest, I hurried out of the kitchen.

She followed me out and sat beside me on the couch. “It was a stupid idea.” Tears fell down her cheeks. “I don’t know, sweetheart. Maybe I should just sell this place? It only serves to bring us pain.”

Eyes burning, I wrapped my arm around her shoulders. As much as I never wanted to stay there, I couldn’t let her sell. She’d regret it. “It means too much to you. It’s where you and daddy lived when you got married. Noah grew up here.”

“Then what can we do to make this easier? I want us to enjoy the holidays.”

I wanted to as well, but I just couldn’t in that house. The good memories trumped the bad ones. I couldn’t walk into the kitchen without envisioning my father dead on the floor. “Maybe we could start new memories?” I slid my arm off her shoulders and faced her.

“Doing what?”

I hated that she was alone in Wyoming, without me or my brother around. He’d sworn in as President of the United States, and was in his own world at the White House, while I’d retreated to our Charleston home to open my own clothing and surfboard shop.

I knew exactly what my mother needed. “You could come back to Charleston and stay with me,” I told her. She shook her head, but I grabbed her hand. “Why not? You have nothing but great memories there. It’ll be good for you to get away. You can hang out with me at the shop and relax on the beach.” I squeezed her hand. “Come on, it’ll be fun. You’ll finally be able to get a tan. Not to mention, you’ll get to see me every day.” I batted my eyelashes and smiled sweetly.

Sighing, she wiped away her tears. “Okay, you got me. I’ll come.”

I hugged her tight. “You won’t regret it.”

When I let her go, her gaze lingered on my sketchpad. Most of my clothing designs were bathing suits, T-shirts, and sundresses. But what I really enjoyed doing were the custom surfboard designs. We didn’t have huge waves in Charleston, yet there were still a ton of people who liked to do it. “Your bathing suits are beautiful,” she gushed.

It felt good to hear words of praise, especially from my mom. All I wanted was for her to be proud of me. “Thanks.”

“How’s business treating you? You haven’t talked about it much.”

There was a reason for that—business was horrible. With a simple shrug, I tried to pretend it wasn’t a big deal. “Not great, but I did just finish a couple of custom surfboard designs. Wanna look?”

Her eyes lit up, but I could tell she was worried about me. “Of course.” I handed her the pad and she flipped through, studying each page with fascination. “This is so exciting. I always knew you’d be an artist when you grew up.”

“A starving one,” I teased. “If it wasn’t for my trust fund I’d be struggling.”

“Do you need money?” she asked.

If I did, I knew she’d give it to me, and then some. Shaking my head, I blinked back the burn in my eyes. “No, Mom. I have plenty in the bank. I was just hoping my shop would take off. I have connections in the political world, but none in the surfing one.”

Brows furrowed, she pursed her lips. “You know, I think I might know someone who can help you.”

“Who? And don’t you dare say Chris.”

Christopher Parks was my ex and the current Vice President of the United States. When the campaigning started, Chris had wanted me by his side, but I couldn’t leave my life in Charleston to follow him around.

My mother held up her hands. “No, dear. It’s not Chris. How are things between you two anyway?”

With a heavy sigh, I leaned back on the couch. “I told him once the election was over we could see where we stand. Honestly, I don’t want to move back to Washington. But we’ll never see each other if I don’t.”

“Then I guess you’ve made your decision,” she said. “Hopefully, he’ll understand.”

I scoffed. Chris wasn’t the type of man to back down when he wanted something. Not to mention, he had my brother on his side. “So, who did you say could help me?” I asked, trying desperately to change the subject.

She reached for one of the magazines sitting on the coffee table. I watched her flip through the pages until she reached the Most Handsome and Eligible Bachelor list.

“Really?” I grumbled. “Who the hell can help me in there?”

She held up her hand. “Hold on. He’s in here somewhere.”

“Who? George Clooney?”

“No.” She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Him,” she said, turning the magazine toward me. “Wade Chandler.”

Eyes wide, I stared at the man on the page. I knew exactly who he was, even though he probably didn’t remember me. He was sexy as hell, and looked exactly like a younger version of his father, Glenn Chandler. “You can’t be serious.”

She stared at his picture, smiling sweetly. “You two were so cute together when you were little, always playing on the beach. I’ll have to find the pictures.”

Now that would be a sight. I had minor flashes in my mind from that time, but I couldn’t remember all the details. It was so long ago.

“You were five years old when we left Charleston,” she continued. “Might not be a bad time to reconnect. He’s kept numerous businesses from tanking.”

I shook my head. “I turned down Glenn’s help when he offered it to me. What’s it going to look like when I go running to Wade?”

She scoffed. “Glenn loves you like a daughter. He knows how stubborn you are. He’ll understand.”

Glenn Chandler had grown up with my father and was one of his closest friends. He used to attend our dinner parties at the White House when he wasn’t busy running Chandler Enterprises. He liked to tell me stories about what it was like to live at the beach and go surfing, which was ultimately what sparked my interest to move back to Charleston. When I’d first started up my shop, Glenn offered to help, but I was too proud to take it.

I stared at Wade’s picture, my insides tearing in all directions. I didn’t want to ask for help, but a part of me knew I needed to. Shutting the magazine, I set it back down on the table. “I’ll think about it. I don’t want to make any decisions right now.”

My mother ran a hand soothingly down my hair. “It’s your choice, sweetheart. I’ll get Noah to invite him to the next dinner party. That way, you can make the choice to talk to him or not.”

I didn’t want to think about it anymore. “Fine,” I gave in. “Let’s talk about something else.” Something other than my failure.

“Okay, we’ll talk about these clothes.” Flipping through my sketchpad, she pointed at one of my bikini designs. “If I wasn’t an old woman, I’d wear something like this.”

Grinning from ear to ear, I nudged her in the side. “You’re not old, Mom. Besides, our house in Charleston is on a private beach. Who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone.”

She closed the sketchpad. “I’ve lost all hope with that, sweetheart. No one will ever take the place of your father.”

“No, but you can find someone to fill the void. There’s no reason for you to be alone.” As much as I missed my father, and didn’t want to imagine her with another man, I couldn’t be selfish.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and let it out slowly. “You’re right, there’s not. Once the holidays are over, I’ll pack up and leave with you. Maybe I can help you get the shop on the right track.”

I held her tight. “Thanks, Mom. I need all the help I can get.” If things continued on a downward spiral, I’d have no choice but to seek out Chandler Enterprises. I just hoped I could do it on my own.