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“Go ahead. I was just with Sheriff Cooper,” he answered with a smirk.

“Jack MacBride, if you don’t get the hell out of here now, I’ll grab that rifle you keep hidden under the staircase and I’ll aim straight at your sorry ass.”

My threat sounded real enough for him to take a step back.
Good!

“I’ll make you pay, you skank. You’re no more than your mother’s daughter.”

Ouch!
I’d used the word ‘skank’ so many times for Clarissa. It hurt to have it used against me.

Miranda joined my side and pulled me toward her. “Jack, Jeanine treated you badly back in high school, but it has nothing to do with Cassandra. I can’t believe you’re still not over it.” And
I
couldn’t believe MacBride hated me because my mother broke his heart at seventeen. Still, I heard the bitterness in Miranda’s voice and I was sad for her. She continued. “Please, it’s time to find some peace in our family. We’ll have our grandson back soon. Let’s try and make it good for him.”

“Our grandson?” he puffed and I swear I saw some spit fly out of his mouth. “That boy isn’t my blood. He’s a bastard.”

MacBride could use all the dirty names he wanted for me. I could deal with it because I despised the man. But when it came to Lucas, new rules. I tore myself away from Miranda and jumped down two steps. My eyes locked with his.

“Don’t you dare speak like that about my son, MacBride.”

“You threatening me?”

“I sure am and if you don’t like it, you can shove it up your own ass.”

“You don’t scare me.”

My upper body tilted forward as if I were about to head-butt him. I wasn’t dumb enough to think I could win this fight though. “I’m gonna get that gun.”

“You’re all talk.”

“Watch me.” My anger made me sound lethal.

MacBride’s bluster fizzled. He shrugged and stepped backwards. Relief seeped through me. One, I didn’t want to go to jail for murder. Two, his alkie breath smelled real foul.

Without turning his back on me, he got back into the Escalade, his finger pointing in my direction. “This isn’t over. I won’t let you get away with it.”

Couldn’t this man just let me be? I watched the spots of his backlights disappear at the turn of the road leading back to town.

“I’m sorry you’re paying for your mother’s sin, darling. He loved her bad.” Miranda stood right behind me and her warmth took some of the anger away.

“Love isn’t an excuse for hate.”

“It sure isn’t.” I heard her let a sorrowful breath out. “It sure isn’t.”

“When I found out I was pregnant, I was so scared. Even with Josh by my side, I couldn’t believe I’d be anything but a lame mom like my mother was. I still don’t know, I—”

Miranda rested her hands on my shoulders and squeezed hard. “—Don’t compare yourself to Jeanine. You’re a far better woman than she’d ever be if she’d lived to be one-hundred.”

“But Jack isn’t going to let it go. I understand now why he’s been on my case since I came and lived with Gran. Me being Josh’s best friend must have been a living hell.”

“Good!” Miranda said with sparkles in her eyes.

We shared a bitter giggle but I had a sinking feeling this wouldn’t be the last time I had to deal with Jack MacBride.

CHAPTER 14

Josh

I’d landed back in D.C. from Kansas City last Tuesday night. It was now Monday and I’d only been back to my apartment once since returning, to pick up a change of clothes. I’d been staying in the same stuffy room for almost a week, sharing the cramped space with four other junior staffers.

Unfortunately for everyone involved, the windows of the room wouldn’t open and we’d had to rely solely on air-conditioning to keep the atmosphere vaguely fresh. That and the limited number of showers in the Senate gym made for a smelly bunch.

I found out quickly that, when you work on Capitol Hill, there is always a valid reason to pull an all-nighter; analyzing bills, summarizing memos, developing policy positions.

I wasn’t afraid of hard work. It wasn’t as if I’d coasted through Georgetown and Oxford. But over the last week, each time my brain had disconnected from whatever was thrown at me by Estevez or his Deputy Chief of Staff, Peter Hewitt, Lucas’s face sprang to mind. If this was a taste of my future working life, I wouldn’t be around much. I wouldn’t be there to read him a story at nighttime or take him to after-school football training. Or karate class. Or whatever.

I’d still had that dream I could change the world. Washington was where someone like me could make that dream come true. I wanted my little family to be part of something big and meaningful. But maybe it was just that, a dream.

“Are you joining us at The Speaker?” Bradley was another junior staffer.

“I might pass on tonight. Sorry.” Cassie was back and we’d planned a romantic pizza date. We’d never had
dates
before, so maybe I should be thinking French cuisine or something fancy. But I knew my girl, and she loved pizza.

“Andy will be there.” Bradley said this as if God himself had decided to stop by on his way to heaven and share a beer with us. But, in our world, Andrew Estevez was pretty much the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.

“My wife arrived back in D.C. this morning and we have plans. I haven’t seen her for a week.”

“You’re married?” The guy asked the question as if I’d just told him I suffered from a venal disease. “I mean, how old are you?”

I ignored his question, knowing that he would be appalled I’d said ‘I do’ at the tender age of seventeen… or had a five-year-old son.

My cell vibrated on the desk and I checked the message.

Cassie (17:32): Total screw-up with the subway. Mixed up between blue and green lines. Will b there much later. Sorry.

Bradley had finished packing his stuff.

“Hold on, Brad. I might have time for a cold one after all.”

At that moment, the door opened and Senator Andrew Estevez appeared. Bradley jumped and I fully expected him to throw himself on the carpeted floor and worship at the lap of his idol.

“Well done, guys.”

“Thanks Senator,” Bradley answered dutifully.

Andy’s attention focused on me. “Josh, I’d like a word with you.”

“Of course.”

It took a few seconds for Bradley to take the hint.

After he finally left, Andy Estevez sat on the chair opposite me. “I’m going to cut to the chase. I was out for dinner with my wife last night and bumped into someone you know very well. Bruce Carrington.” I knew where this was going, so I stiffened in my chair. “He doesn’t like you,” Andy added.

“We had our differences,” I answered non-committedly. Lenor’s father had wanted me to help him keep his daughter on a tight leash but I’d declined. To him, that was a worse crime than proposing to his daughter while still being married to another girl.
That
in itself should be the most valid reason to hate my guts.

“He told me an intriguing story of intended bigamy and a secret child.” I didn’t comment so he continued. “You never mentioned you were married—not that it’s any of my business.”

“Well,
technically
, I don’t have a son. He was adopted by another family at birth.”

Estevez’s eyebrows arched in a way I’d seen him do when attending a hearing. It was his way of saying ‘Don’t bullshit me.’

I’d spent the last week working my guts out for this guy, taking power naps under the table so that he could have his mark-ups ready for the next hearing. “No offense, Sir, but I’d like to keep some parts of my private life… well, private.” Cassie and Lucas were mine and mine only. However screwed-up our story was, it was precious to me.

“In politics, Joshua, there’s no such thing as ‘private.’”

“I’m not naïve, but my background wouldn’t matter at this stage of my career if I wasn’t on Bruce Carrington’s black-list.”

Estevez rested against the back of the chair. He was a handsome man, dark and brooding, and it’d worked miracles with his female constituents. As far as I knew, he was also a family man with a solid marriage. It was one of the reasons I’d wanted to work for him. Andy kept staring at me in silence, sizing me up. I didn’t shuffle, I didn’t blink. I had nothing to hide, but had nothing to add either.

“Did you at any point do anything illegal with regards to this business Carrington was rambling on about?”

My boss was entitled to an answer. “Nothing illegal, but I should have handled myself better and treated Eleanor Carrington with more respect.”

I remained the subject of Estevez’s appraisal for another minute and I hated to admit it, but I started feeling antsy. Finally, he broke the silence, “Don’t fuck it up, Josh. I’m impressed with you, especially after our stint in Europe. I’d hate to see you throw your future away because you managed a situation badly, even once. So I’ll give you two words of advice today: Damage control.

“Whatever is happening in your private life right now, think about when it’ll be dug up by a journalist ten years from now when you run for senate. Make sure it doesn’t make you look too bad, or doesn’t cost you an election.”

He was looking far, far into the future, and I hadn’t allowed myself to think so big. Yet.

“I can’t stand Carrington anyway. Hearing him attack you won you some brownie points with me.” Estevez stood and headed toward the door. “Come and join us for a drink.”

“I will, sir. Thanks for giving me a chance to explain.”

Estevez nodded at me. “You’re welcome. However, please handle yourself in a way becoming to this office. And be smart about it.”

“I will.”

Once I found myself alone, my fist struck the table top. I hadn’t felt the anger boiling up inside me until it exploded. If, one day I made it high enough in this city, Bruce Carrington would be first on my hit list.

In the meantime, I had to take my girl out for dinner if she ever managed to make it out of the D.C. subway. I headed to the bar and my team. I was still pissed off by Carrington’s attack and, once inside, didn’t manage to cool down until my second beer was half-way down my throat. I sent a text to Cassie telling her where I was, asking her to call me when she made it out of the station.

I wanted to get away from my work crowd ASAP. Hewitt kept sucking up so hard to Estevez and his Chief of Staff that it made me want to throw up. Schmoozing wasn’t my thing. I took a break from the group I’d been talking to: the over-keen Scheduler, Legislative Director, Policy Advisor and the short-skirted press intern who’d been hired for the fall semester.

I was on my way to the restroom when my cell vibrated in my suit’s inside pocket. I checked the ID. An international call. France?

“MacBride speaking.”

Five seconds of silence when I heard the light buzzing of the line.

“Josh, it’s me.” Her voice had that familiar melody I’d liked so much.

“Hey Lenor. How are you?”

“I’m fine, but I’m worried about you.”

“What for?”

“I had the displeasure of talking with my father this morning. One of his usual inquisitions into my life… but, anyway, that’s not the point. He got angry and that was when he mentioned meeting Andrew Estevez last night. From what I understand, my dad lashed out on you to your boss.”

“I know. Andy came and talked to me about it. It’s all fine. It just so happens that my boss can’t stand your father anyway.”

Lenor’s laugh resonated in my ear. “And yet another on the long list of Carrington haters. That’ll make Zach happy.”

Zach, Lenor’s first love.

I hesitated for one moment, not sure what the etiquette was between exes. I asked anyway, “How are things going with Zach?”

She sighed. “Complicated. Amazing. Painful… I’m not sure, it changes every day. I’m not—, I don’t,” she stammered, “Second chances don’t come easy.”

“They don’t. That’s why they’re worth fighting for.”

“Maybe… or maybe it’s a sign it was never meant to be. At least him and me.”

“That’s for you to decide, Lenor. You must do what’s good for you.”

Another silent stretch. “How are Cassandra and Lucas?”

“She’s on her way back in D.C. now. We’re trying to speed up the adoption as much as we can.”

“Good luck, Josh. I hope you’ll be a family soon.”

“Thanks, Lenor. Don’t settle for less than you’re worth. And that’s a lot.”

I got the crystalline laugh of Lenor, the Socialite. She reverted to that role as soon as she was insecure. “You’re a sweet talker, Joshua MacBride. It’ll work miracles on the Hill. Take care!”

“Take care, Lenor.”

The line went dead.

In the restroom I splashed some water over my face. The mirror threw back the image of a man in dire need of sleep. I made my way back to the bar and checked my cell. There were no messages from Cassie, but I froze because she stood in the entrance, the revolving doors swirling around behind her. Her hair was pulled into a pony-tail and she was wearing skinny jeans which molded to her shapely legs. The T-shirt she wore had The Libs written on it. She was hot and totally out of place.