Someone To Believe In (29 page)

The debate took an hour.

Then came the vote.

Wisely, the governor had put eleven people on
the committee. However, one of the member’s children had taken ill
and she’d been unable to finish out her stint. And so the vote
ended up in a tie.

“Stewart’s committee will have to decide
about the money for Guardian,” Jerry said. “The rest we seem to
agree on.”

“Fine.” Bailey stood. “I’m still going to
Washington, right? When the senator presents our findings?”

“Absolutely.” Jerry Friedman smiled. “You’ve
got one more chance for your baby.”

The meeting broke up. Clay didn’t try to
catch her; instead he talked with Friedman about what a good job
he’d done leading a difficult group, then headed out of the Public
Safety Building. Though he felt good about most of what happened in
the committee, he was still mad as hell about last night.

“Clay?”

He turned and found Bailey out front,
standing in the shadows.

“What’s your schedule now?” she asked.

Checking his watch, he said, “I’m going back
to my town house for a while. Then I’m catching the train to D.C.
tomorrow.”

“Can I come home with you?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Bailey.
I’m really angry with you about last night.”

She nodded to the building. “You’re not
exactly on my top ten list either right now.”

He shook his head, walked to the curb and
hailed a cab. When it pulled up, he opened the door.

And turned to her. He nodded to the taxi.
Wordlessly, she crossed to the vehicle and got inside.

HE SLAMMED HER against the wall once
they were in the foyer of the town house. Which was fine with her.
She needed some outlet for what she was feeling. Squelching the
inner voice that said she needed
him
, she gripped his shoulders, matching his
passion. What was between them now was desire mixed with anger, and
they both knew it.

He ravaged her mouth. She bit his lip, his
jaw, his shoulder once she got his jacket and shirt off.

He ripped at her clothes, and vaguely she
wondered what she was going to wear home.

Grunts. Groans. An “Oh, shit, help me with
this.” Another, “Fuck, I can’t get it off.”

Naked, needy, and almost desperate, he hiked
her up. She wrapped her legs around him and he plunged inside her.
“Bailey, oh, God, I...”

“Clay...Clay...”

They came in seconds. Together.
Mindlessly.

Afterward, Clay held on to her. When he could
finally move, he stumbled to the couch, sat down with her still
wrapped around him, and sighed. Once reality dawned, she could feel
the separation coming. His body spoke it like a second
language.

And so she moved in closer and anchored her
arms around his neck. “Please don’t pull away.”

“This didn’t solve anything.”

“I know.” Still she held on to him.

After a moment, he set her back. He didn’t
look as tense now, but his face was grim. “I’m mad as hell about
what you did last night.”

“And I’m mad about how you’re handling last
night. It’s old ground.” She shook her head. “Not to mention that
you voted against me just now. I want that money, Clay.”

“I didn’t vote against you. I voted
against your idea. If you recall, that’s exactly what you told me
about the interview you gave to
The
Voice
.” He sucked in a deep breath. “We knew this
would happen.”

“We can handle it, Clay.”

He waited a minute, then said, “I want
to.”

She hugged him tight then. “Thank God.”

He hugged her back and snorted. “I think you
got that wrong, babe. I’m beginning to think the devil’s got his
hand in this whole thing.”

She chuckled. “Then let’s give the devil a
run for his money.”

BAILEY WAS DRESSING to go pick up Rory, and
Clay had slid into his trousers but was bare-chested; he lounged on
the couch watching the six o’clock news. She felt better now that
they’d talked; she believed in him, in herself, in their
relationship and vowed they were going to make a go of it
somehow.

The drone of the TV became louder; as she
slipped into her shoes, she saw Chuck Stewart was being interviewed
on the show out of Washington that Clay liked to watch. “No, I
don’t regret my decision not to be considered for the vice
presidency next summer.”

Bailey stilled. “Stewart’s not going for VP
next time around?”

“Ah, no.”

She turned back to the set.

“So, this paves the way for others,” the
announcer said. “Who’s the front-runner?”

Stewart smiled. “I think that’s obvious. Clay
Wainwright’s the party’s best choice.”

Her world shifted. For a moment, she couldn’t
speak. Then she whirled around to face him. “Well, so much for
honesty. When were you going to tell me about this?”

There was an assertiveness about his
expression, almost an arrogance. “You really want honesty?”

“I said I did.”

“I was waiting to tell you about this
potentiality—and that’s all it is—until you’d fallen in love with
me and wouldn’t leave me over it.”

Tears clouded her eyes. She couldn’t believe
this. “Well, Senator, that’s exactly what you’ve done.”

He looked startled. Pivoting fast, she headed
for the foyer; he caught up with her just as she opened the door.
Slamming it shut with a flat hand, he barked, “Hold on.”

“No, I’ve got to get out of here.”

“Like hell. If you think you can say
something like that and leave, you’re crazy.”

She leaned her head on the wood. “I am
crazy.”

“Bailey?” His tone turned tender. He tried to
pull her around, but she resisted. He tugged hard until she finally
faced him. “Oh, God. I’ve never seen you cry.”

Her throat clogged, she shook her head.

“Bailey.” Gently he grasped her cheeks in his
hands. “Sweetheart, did you say what I think you said?”

She cried harder. He drew her to his chest.
“Do you love me, Bailey?”

Only able to nod, she held on to his
shirt.

“Oh, baby. That’s wonderful.”

“It’s awful.”

He drew back. “No, no it’s not. I’ve been in
love with you for weeks and have been afraid to tell you.”

“You have?”

“Yes.”

She swiped at her tears and glanced at the
TV. “But if you’re going to be the vice presidential candidate,
there’s no way I can fit into your life now.”

BAILEY SAT ACROSS from him in his dining
room, playing with the shrimp takeout he’d ordered for her. He’d
devoured his chicken teriyaki. She was conflicted; he could tell by
the shadows that chased through those gorgeous blue eyes. Clay,
however, couldn’t be more elated. She loved him and that changed
everything.

“You’re not going to avoid talking about this
by pushing your food around your plate, you know.”

“I know.” She shook her head. “It would help
if you were a little less chipper.”

Lazing back in his chair, he grinned. He felt
better than he could ever remember feeling, except maybe when Jon
was born. “Why shouldn’t I be? The woman I love tells me she
returns my feelings for her, and I’m supposed to be depressed
about it?”

She just stared at him.

“I’m sorry you’re sad, sweetheart. But don’t
ask me to regret that this has happened.” He leaned over and
grasped her hand. “I love you, Bailey. More than I’ve let myself
admit until you said the words.”

“I love you, too,” she whispered achingly.
Biting her lip, she rubbed her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m all messed up
about this.”

“Would it help to talk about the
obstacles?”

“No. We’ve run that train into the
ground.”

“Except for this new wrinkle—the vice
presidency.” He watched her. “You’re angry I kept this from
you.”

“Yes, of course. But we’ve got bigger fish to
fry.”

He straightened. “Bailey, it’s not a fait
accompli. Even if the party wants me, I don’t have to say yes.”

She stared hard at him. “But you want it,
don’t you?”

“I’ve always wanted it. And more, maybe. But
first off, the appointment is several months away. And second, I
don’t even know if the presidential candidate—whoever that’s going
to be—will choose me.”

“What are you saying, Clay? That we go
along, keep falling more and more in love, then you
do
go for the VP slot. Where does
that leave me?”

“At my side, maybe.”

“Publicly.”

“Yes.” He watched her. “I know what that
means.”

“That I’d have to give up my work at ESCAPE,
or anything else like it.”

“There are a lot of things you could do for
at-risk kids, especially as the VP’s wife.”

“Oh, my God, don’t make that jump, Clay.”

He didn’t like her shock, or the revulsion
underneath it. “People in love have been known to consider
marriage.”

“People like us don’t fall in love.” She
looked so afraid and vulnerable it softened him.

“Talk to me, Bailey. Tell me why the idea of
marriage frightens you so much.”

“For one thing, it’s too soon. I haven’t
accepted my feelings for you and you’re talking about making this
permanent.” She sighed. “Second, you’re logic’s off; I couldn’t do
better things for kids as the vice president’s wife if the vice
president himself disagrees with everything I believe in.”

He was silent. She was wrong; there were a
zillion things she could do in Washington.

She got up then and crossed to the
window.

“What are you thinking?”

She shook her head.

“Tell me, honey. It’s time to put all the
cards on the table.”

“It’s selfish.”

“I don’t care.”

“Why would I be making all the sacrifices,
Clay?”

He stretched out his legs and crossed his
arms over his chest. “You shouldn’t. I said I don’t have to go for
the vice presidency unless it works for us.”

“You’d give it up for me?”

“I want this relationship, Bailey. I think
I’ve known that since I showed up at your family’s pub that night.
I’ll do almost anything for it to work.”

She just watched him.

“Look, I—” His cell phone rang. He checked
the caller ID. “It’s Karen’s number.”

“Your ex-wife?”

“Uh-huh.” He answered it. “Hello.”

“Clay, it’s Karen.”

“What’s up?”

“Jon’s been hurt in some kind of an accident.
You have to get to Kingston right away.” Kingston was the closet
hospital to Bard College.

“Is he all right?”

“I think so. He has a broken arm. No internal
injuries. But he’s got some scrapes and bruises, maybe a concussion
and he’s in a lot of pain. The school called me as his emergency
contact. One of his parents should be there.”

“Where are you?”

“In the Bahamas. On a ship. Where are
you?”

“At my town house in New York.”

“Do you want me to come back?”

“No. I’m on my way. I can handle this.” He
clicked off and stood. “Jon’s been in an accident at college. I
have to get up there.”

“Oh, Clay. Is he all right?”

“Karen says so. A broken arm. But...” He
shook off the thought. “Look, I have to leave. I think I can get a
train to Kingston now.”

She looked at her watch. “Then let’s go. I’ll
call on the way to Penn Station and see if Liam can keep Rory for a
while.”

“You’re coming with me?”

“Of course.”

“What about keeping our relationship
private?”

“You’re not making the trip alone when your
son’s hurt. We’ll deal with anything that happens about me coming
along with you later.”

“THERE’S NO REAL damage to my face, right
Dad?” Though he was confused and angry—somebody was lying to
him—Jon was more afraid now that he’d maimed and scarred himself in
his rebellious outburst, than concerned about his parents’ being
up-front with him.

His father’s scowl lightened. He’d never seen
the man so worried. “The doc said you’re going to be as handsome as
ever.”

Jon hadn’t looked in a mirror, but he could
feel his face swelling. “You sure?” Hell, he sounded like a little
boy, but he needed his dad’s reassurance.

“I think it looks worse than it is.” His dad
studied him as they waited for the resident who casted his arm to
come in. “What happened, son?”

Glancing away, Jon swallowed hard. “I had too
much to drink. We were at a party on campus, one of those blow-out
things in the old gym, and I had a few too many beers. I fell off a
human pyramid we were building.”

“Hell.” The scowl deepened again, the lines
in his dad’s face were groove-like. “I didn’t know you drank,
Jon.”

“I don’t normally. Not much, anyway. I was
upset.”

“Why?”

“I had a huge fight with Mom. Then she flew
off to the Bahamas without a care in the world while we were still
pissed off at each other.”

“What did you fight about?”

“You.”

His dad folded his arms across his chest.
“Does this have anything to do with our email exchange?”

“Yeah.”

“I knew we should have talked this out.”

“I confronted Mom.”

“And?”

“She said you were having an affair, no
matter what your story was. She said
she
found somebody after that.”

“Oh, Jon, I don’t know what to say. That’s
just not true.”

“I figured she might be lying ’cause she got
so pissed at me for asking about it.” He shook his head. “That’s
what she always does when she’s wrong.”

“She used to do the same thing to me. It
drove me nuts.” His father stretched out his legs. He was dressed
in suit pants and a shirt. At least he was beginning to relax.
“Does it even matter, now, what your mother did? People make
mistakes. Karen and I were having a lot of problems for a year
before we divorced.”