Someone To Believe In (44 page)

“And now that you’ve left ESCAPE, that reason
no longer exists.”

“Right.”

“What are you going to do with your life now,
Bailey?”

“I don’t know yet.”

He studied them with a reporter’s shrewdness.
“How long you been married?”

“A few weeks. We weren’t ready to tell the
world yet’ Clay sighed. “When Lawson found out last night, we had
no choice but to let people know.”

“Sounds plausible. So, tell me, are there
fireworks?”

Clay opened his mouth to answer, but Bailey
gave Sellers a flirty smile. “Isn’t that a little personal,
Hank?”

Throwing back his head, the reporter laughed.
“I didn’t mean it that way. I mean with your differing views.”

“We try not to discuss those at home.”

They talked some more, and finally Clay said,
“I think it’s time to end this, Hank. I trust you’ve got enough
information.”

“Yeah, compared to Lawson’s interview, this
is the real deal. One more question, though, for Bailey. Are you
going to vote for your husband in the next election?”

She didn’t miss a beat. “Who knows what next
November will bring.” She grinned up at Clay, and her gaze was full
of promise. “He’s working on me. But I’m still undecided.”

About a lot of things.

“Can I quote you on that?”

“Of course. Clay and I aren’t going to lie to
the public.”

“Will your fence-sitting hurt his
career?”

Real distress shone on Bailey’s face. She
gripped Clay’s hand. “Oh, I hope not.”

Clay slid his arm around her. “I love my wife
for who she is, Hank. She has a strong will and her own identity.
If the voters can’t handle that, then so be it.”

“Actually,” Sellers said, “I think the voters
will love it.”

“THANKS FOR DOING the interview today.
You had Sellers eating out of your hand.” Clay stood in the doorway
of
her
bedroom, dressed in
boxers and a white T-shirt, ready for bed.

Bailey’s hormones went on red alert and the
rush was so strong she was taken aback by it. “You’re welcome. “
She was couched in the soft comfort of the bed, wearing her own
boxers and T-shirt. His looked better. A lot better, revealing a
roadmap of muscles on his chest, trim hips, and great legs. “Thanks
for taking over with Rory tonight. He was bouncing all over the
place with excitement about being here. I can’t believe I had that
nap and am still exhausted.”

“I enjoy taking care of Rory. We were making
plans for a playroom in the basement. He’s a creative kid.”

She scowled. “Clay, be careful, don’t let him
get too attached to this place.” As an afterthought, she added,
“Or to you.”

His hand gripped the doorjamb. “God
forbid.”

She cocked her head.

“Let me say something. I love Rory like
he was my own. Even if we
don’t make
it
, as you keep pounding into my head, I’m maintaining
a relationship with him. So will Jon, I expect.”

Something about his tone. “Are you mad at
me?”

“Well...yes.” He ran a hand through his
hair, disheveling it beautifully. He looked like an angry Greek
God. “I listened to us tell Sellers all those things today. Things
that were true. We gravitated toward each other, though we knew it
wasn’t for the best. We fell in love despite the odds. I want you
to work out your misgivings, even if it
seems
impossible.”

“It’s not something I can just
do
, Clay. It has to
happen.”

“Fuck.”

“Damn it. I caved in on everything, every
single thing, until you violated my trust so completely it got
somebody killed.”

He froze. “Oh, my God. You do blame me. You
kept telling me it wasn’t my fault...but you didn’t really believe
that.”

She closed her eyes. “I’m so tired, I don’t
know what I’m saying. I blame myself, too, if it’s any
consolation.”

“It isn’t.”

“Clay...” Rory called out from his room.

“I’ll go,” she said starting to get out of
bed.

“No, I’ll go. As you said, I might not have
many more chances to do this.”

He stalked off, leaving Bailey
stumped.
He
was angry?
Shit.

CLAY SAT NEXT to Bailey at a small table in
the back of the Build-a-Bear store. Jon had come home from college
for Thanksgiving break and had insisted they take Rory here.

Studying the setup, Clay smiled. “This is a
great place.” Excited squeals of children, the direction of staff,
and lots of giggling surrounded them.

“I know.” She rubbed her wedding band. She
did that a lot, unconsciously, Clay thought. “I always wanted to
bring Rory here, but it’s so expensive.”

He shrugged. “Jon’s treat. He insisted.”

“He’s as generous as you are.”

Biting back his impatience, he vowed not to
get angry with her again. “I wish you’d let me take care of you
financially.” He leaned over and squeezed her hand. “I hate your
working at the pub.”

She held on tight. “I know you do. Please,
let’s not fight. I hate that. It’s hard enough with this distance
between us.”

“We won’t fight. I just worry about you and
the baby.”

“I promise I’m taking care of myself. You can
come to the next checkup and see for yourself.”

He smiled weakly. She was blooming physically
and had that ethereal glow that pregnant women got. He wondered
briefly if she had other things pregnant woman were rumored to
have. Like increased libido. If so, he wasn’t privy to it. “It’s a
date, love.” He didn’t let go of her hand.

Rory raced over to them and skidded to a
halt. “Mommy, look.” He held the furry outer shell of a bear. “Jon
says we stuff it over there; he’s gonna help me.”

“I know.”

“I love Jon.” He threw his arms around Clay.
“You too, Clay.”

Clay let go of Bailey’s hand and hung on to
her son. How on earth would he ever give up this child if Bailey
couldn’t, in the end, trust him?

“Dad, you okay?” Jon had come over to
them.

“I’m fine.”

Pulling away, Rory looked up at Jon then back
at Clay. “He calls you Dad.”

“Yes, he’s my son.”

“Can I...” He looked to Bailey. “Can I call
Clay Dad, too?”

Jon blinked. “I think that’s a great
idea.”

Clay tugged Rory close again. “Is that what
you want, buddy?”

“Uh-huh.”

He glanced at Bailey. She was scowling.
“Let’s talk about this later.” She stood and nodded to the other
side of the store. “I think I see some Jeter clothes over there.
Let’s go look.”

When she left, Jon took her chair. “What’s
the matter with her?”

He’d briefly filled Jon in on the events of
the week. “She’s still not sure if we’re going to make it,
Jon.”

“She moved in.”

“It was necessary because Lawson found
out.”

Jon’s brows raised. “Sounds crazy to me.”

“This whole relationship has been. So why am
I surprised at this turn of events?”

“Jonnnnnnnnnnnnnn...” the screech came from
Rory as he ran back to them. “I found Jeter’s uniform.” He looked
to Clay. “Jon likes Jeter as much as we do.”

“More,” Jon teased, ruffling Rory’s hair.

“Nuh-uh.”

“Come on, kid, let’s go stuff that bear.”
Hand-in-hand, they walked off.

Bailey sat down. “Clay, I—”

“Let’s not talk about it. Let’s just enjoy
the kids.”

“All right.”

Later, though, when they got home, the
subject of their distance had to be resurrected. Uncomfortable,
Clay nonetheless informed his son of the circumstances. He’d waited
till Bailey left him and his son alone. “Jon, Rory’s got your
room.” Though he hadn’t stayed there much, Clay insisted Jon have
his own space in the town house.

“Really? Why doesn’t he use the spare
one?”

“Bailey’s in there.”

“Oh, Dad.” He looked so old, understanding of
the significance of that statement. “It’s all right. I can bunk
with Rory. It’ll be fun.”

“For you.”

Jon patted him on the back. “Hang in
there.”

Dinner was fun with the boys. Bailey had
taken a nap and then cooked a great meal. Afterward, they played
junior monopoly.

At bedtime, things got awkward again.
The kids went to watch a video in
their
room, though Rory rarely needed that to go
to sleep anymore; Clay and Bailey were downstairs, sitting on the
couch, watching TV. Her head rested on his shoulder, and he could
smell its lemony scent. Feel her curves against him.

She yawned and straightened. “I’m tired. I’m
going up.”

“All right.”

“Did Jon say anything about the room?”

“No, he understands how things are between
us. He’s twenty, Bailey. Almost a man.”

“I know this is hard for you.”

His laugh was rueful. “Is that a pun?”

She chuckled. “I’m sorry about no sex,
Clay.”

“Sorry enough to come upstairs and make love
with your husband?”

She looked torn.

“Damn it, Bailey, what would it hurt? We made
love initially when we weren’t committed. Would it really make a
difference if we took some solace in each other now?”

“It might sway me. Make me forget everything
that’s between us.”

He leaned over and brushed his lips against
hers. “Would that be so bad?”

She clung to his shirt. “Clay, please.”

“Please what? Kiss you? Touch you? Make you
scream with pleasure?”

She drew away. “I won’t be seduced into
this.”

He sucked in a heavy breath. “I see.” He
stood, hard and hurting, inside and out. “Then I won’t force
unwanted attentions on you.”

“Don’t be mad.”

He shook his head. “I’m not mad, Bailey. I’m
hurt and hungry for you. That’s way past being mad.”

TWENTY-THREE

THE EXTERIOR OF ESCAPE seemed different
today. Standing out front, tugging her scarf around her against the
cold, Bailey studied the house: its brick front was a bit worn, but
the grounds were well kept and guarded by high shrubs. No one would
ever expect to find an anti-gang organization inside. She braced
herself as she climbed the steps. Bailey hadn’t been back since Taz
had died three weeks ago. But it was time to visit her friends and
officially resign.

Not that she had a choice now. Hank
Sellers’ article in
The Village
Voice
had revealed her identity, as had Lawson’s
sensationalizing interview. Now as the wife of a senator, Bailey
had no privacy. She would be forced to let go of ESCAPE, even if
she didn’t want to. Which she did. She was done here, with this
baby of hers, whom she’d conceived, nurtured, and brought to
adolescence. Someone else could see it through college into
adulthood. The notion formed a lump in her throat as she entered
the building.

Sounds and smells and sights greeted her from
the offices—the hum of computers, the ringing of phones, the bark
of conversation...

“Fuck it, Joey. If you don’t do it right this
time, I’m gonna report you.”

“To who, God?”

“You are a hardheaded son of a bitch. I wish
Bailey was here to keep you in line.”

“As if.” She spoke from the doorway, where
she watched the men square off.

Both guys turned. Rob strode right over to
hug her, then Joe took his turn. To him she said, “What’d you do,
Joe?”

“Nothin’.”

“He’s inherited your unorthodox tendencies.
Now I gotta worry about him.”

She frowned. “Be safe, Joe.”

He cocked his head. “Odd advice from the
Street Angel.”

“The Street Angel is no more.”

Rob leaned against the desk and crossed his
arms over his chest. “We read the articles.”

“ESCAPE’s still safe, isn’t it?” she said,
just to reassure herself.

“Yeah. Nobody knows where we are. We’re
thinking about moving again, anyway.”

Suze came to the door. Behind her was Father
Tim. “Thought we heard your voice. Mrs. Senator.”

“Spare me. I hate the publicity.”

“How are you going to live in that fishbowl,
girl?” Suze asked.

“I don’t know if I am.”

Natale grunted. Rob cocked his head. Father
Tim said, “What does that mean? The article made you look
lovey-dovey.”

As it should have. Clay had had his hands all
over her. And afterward he’d wanted to make love to his wife. She
didn’t blame him. And he was right, it probably didn’t matter. This
time, though, she was trying to do what was best for them. “Things
aren’t as they appear. We have to pretend life is just grand for
his career, but long-term, who knows?”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Natale mumbled.

“What do you mean?”

“He’s a politician. Need I say more?”

“He’s honest, Joe.”

“Is he?”

“Yes.”

Angrily, Joe jammed his hands into his
pockets. “I think somebody snitched on Taz. I think your senator
found her and went up there.”

She would not betray her husband. “It wasn’t
Clay.”

“Then putting you in jail, and persecuting
you for ten years, as well as his right-wing opinions, are enough
for me. You’re better off without him.”

The thought made her go weak, especially
after the past few days. Clay had squelched his resentment and been
kind and patient with her. He’d forced her to rest, cooked dinner,
and played with Rory. Right now, he and Jon were spending the day
with her son—just one big happy family.

“Earth to Bailey.” This from Suze.

“Sorry. Listen, I came in to show you all I
was doing better.”

“You look great,” Rob said.

“I feel good.”

“Emotionally, too?” Father Tim asked.

“I’m still sad. And guilty. But I’m
better.”