Текст книги "Fast Forward"

Автор книги: Marion Croslydon

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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

CHAPTER 13

Cassie.

Two days since I arrived in Steep Hill and I couldn’t avoid Woodie any longer. I wanted to see him. But now, each time I was going to see him, it’d be a package deal: Woodie and Clarissa.

So I’d finally accepted their invitation for dinner. Ten minutes into our chitchat, and they’d broken their big news.

The news that my best friend was getting married to my high-school nemesis.

Clarissa hadn’t stopped babbling. “I’ve always dreamed of a Christmas wedding. There’ll be snow and we can all have eggnog in Woodie’s barn. What about one of those sleighs to take us away from the church?”

The image that sprang to my mind was of freakin’ reindeers flying through Steep Hill, Kansas, with Woodie and his bride on the backseat. The weirdest thing was that Woodie didn’t seem one bit concerned about making a fool of himself. He kept gaping at his fiancée across the dining table and I wanted to wipe the saliva that dripped from his mouth with my napkin.

“… like at your wedding, Cassie.”

Double-take and back to my hosts… and the nicely-laid table Clarissa had arranged for my welcome-home dinner. “Come again?”

“The snowball fight we had outside the church?”

I remembered the snowball fight. I didn’t remember Clarissa at my wedding though. Was she even invited?

She clasped her hands together. “I loved your wedding. It was so romantic, like in The Notebook.”

I choked on the beer I’d just gulped down. I coughed again while tapping my chest. Clarissa handed me another napkin, a dry one, to clean my chin. Classy! I doubt the girls spat beer on themselves in any of those mushy stories.

“Your gran used to love that book, remember?” That was Woodie asking.

“That she did.” And I used to pretend I hated it by sticking my fingers in my mouth and fake puking. It used to drive Gran up the wall, me and my un-ladylike manners.

“More cheesecake?” Clarissa asked. The curls of her hair fell gracefully over her shoulders. She was slimmer than she used to be… with the exception of her boobs, of course. To tell the truth, I’d always been a tiny bit jealous of her breasts. Not that I’d ever admit it to anyone.

“Yes, thank you. I’m impressed you made it yourself.” I handed her my empty plate for another helping. What was it with all those women with crazy good baking skills?

I got my very generous slice of cheesecake.

“She woke up before dawn this morning to make it.” Woodie covered Clarissa’s hand with his, his eyes brimming with puppy love. “In case it didn’t work and she had to start again. She’s practiced baking that cake so many times I’ve gained twenty pounds.”

Had I missed something over the last six years when I drove past her and ignored Clarissa? Had she been holding out a hand to me all this time? Totally possible. I’d had my head so far up my own ass, chewing on self-pity, I’d seen nobody. Not even my best friend falling in love with a girl I was supposed to hate forever and ever.

Back in high school, Clarissa had practiced giving blow-jobs the same way she baked cheesecakes today: By virtue of repetition. Whatever she’d done then, the only one who’d been hurt had been her. At least, I’d hoped so! What I’d done right at that time, lying and taking life-changing decisions away from Josh, had hurt so many more people in much deeper ways, it couldn’t compare.

Was Josh right? Was I making the same mistakes all over again?

The question filled my mouth with a bitter taste that spoiled my appetite for the cheesecake. Later on, Woodie offered to walk me back to my half-dead Chevy. I was about to step on the porch of the small house my best friend had built on the edge of his parents’ farm, when I spun around nearly bumping into his bulky chest. Clarissa was already busy tidying the table.

“Clarissa, I’m happy—” I stammered, “I’m happy for the two of you, happy you found each other.”

She froze mid-way through carefully folding a napkin. Her mouth shaped into a weak smile and I swear tears twinkled in her eyes.

“Thank you, Cassie. It means so much to me that you approve of me being with Woodie.”

“I know, and I’m sorry it took me so long to understand.” Or to care.

“Better late than never,” Woodie threw that out as a joke, but I saw the satisfied smile he was trying to hide.

We walked back to my truck and he opened the door to the driver’s seat for me. “So Cassandra O’Malley is gonna live in Washington D.C?” he asked, playing up the last words. “No Nashville, no touring, no music anymore?”

“No music for now.”

“No regrets?”

I was about to answer “None whatsoever,” but I caught myself. “I’m not giving up, I’m only postponing.” The last days had turned me into a parrot, repeating the same shit over and over again. Was I trying to convince myself or what? “I can still write songs though.” And I told him about Sweet Second.

“That’s awesome, Cass. I’m impressed.”

I was proud of that song, but I had serious doubts I’d get to sing it on stage ever again, let alone in a recording studio. “So I guess the next time I see you will be on your Big Day?”

“Something like that… I’ve something to ask you.” Woodie started shuffling the dust on the yard. “I know Clarissa wasn’t the girl you’d like me to end up married to. She went a bit wild in high school … She screwed up—”

My hand flew to Woodie’s buffed-up forearm “I screwed up far worse than Clarissa. All the ugly things I said about her over the years, I should swallow them back like a nest of vipers. I had no right to treat her like I did.”

Woodie patted my hand. “That’s real nice to hear. That’s why maybe you could, I mean, if you can come to Steep Hill with all the things happening with Lucas, maybe you know—”

“Spit it out, Woodie!”

“Would you be my best man?”

I gasped.

“I mean, my best girl, or whatever you call it.”

I forced my chin to move back up again. “I didn’t expect—I mean, I’ve been so horrible and selfish to you and Clarissa. Are you sure you want me—you know, at my wedding you were—”

“Spit it out, Cassie!”

“Well, you were Josh’s best man so I’d understand if you asked him to be yours.”

“Josh and I, we were best friends in high school, but high school was a long time ago. We’ve done a lot of growing up, since then, you and me, so I want you to be the one standing next to me when I say ‘I do.’”

I felt my eyebrows arch and Woodie started to backpedal. “Obviously, you won’t be the one standing next to me, right next to me, Clarissa will be, but you’ll be on the other side.”

“I get it, Wood.” I squeezed his arm. “I’d be honored.”

I kissed his chubby cheek. I hoped he’d keep looking like the cutest teddy bear I’d ever seen.

“I’ll let you get back to your fiancée.” I hopped inside my truck and landed on a spring that was sticking up from the bench seat. Ouch! My Chevy was a danger even to my butt.

Woodie laid his hand on the frame of the opened window of the truck and leaned against it. “Clarissa thought Lucas could be a ring bearer. Maybe you’ll have him back before Christmas?”

I clasped my hands tighter over the steering wheel. “Maybe.”

Woodie stepped back and I switched on the engine. I shouted a silent ‘Thank you’ when it started. I waved at my friend and shifted the truck into reverse. I was half way down the driveway when I popped my head out of the window and shouted, “Wood, cut the sleigh!”

The sound of his laughter warmed my heart on the drive back to the farm. I forced myself to focus on the road ahead of me because my mind kept running away with images of Josh, Lucas and me at Woodie’s wedding. It was getting all kind of syrupy.

I drove past Josh’s family house. It hadn’t changed over the years: freshly-painted with a deck made for lazy, star-gazing nights. It wasn’t the same in all the meaningful ways it used to be though. There wasn’t a family living there anymore, just a divorced woman alone. Jack MacBride had never been the devoted father and husband he made himself out to be in front of the whole town.

Without planning it, I turned the Chevy into the alleyway. I could see the light filtering though the curtains of the living room. I stopped the truck and the creaking of the brakes echoed throughout the silence outside. If anyone was already asleep, well, they were awake now. Guilt shifted away when Josh mom’s light figure stepped out from the shadows on the porch.

I gathered all my courage and got out of the truck. The coming conversation was long overdue.

“It’s so good to see you, sweetheart.”

In a couple of strides I was locked in Miranda’s arms, breathing in her familiar scent of sweet tea.

With my head snuggled in the hollow of her neck, I mumbled. “I should have come and talked to you as soon as I came back two days ago. I should have come and talked to you so long ago. I was ashamed. I was a coward—”

Miranda hushed me with gentle taps on my back. “It’s the past. Let’s start afresh.”

I felt my muscles loosen and the tension that had stored up in them disappear. Alfredo’s death had hit me hard and thrown my emotions all over the place. I was so very tired.

Miranda pulled me up the steps leading to the porch. Slowly she sat me down on the bench there. She didn’t ask me anything. I didn’t say anything. I just sat there and it felt like my batteries had finally ran out of juice.

I’d spent so much of myself trying to be a mom and at that instant, I needed one. I needed my Wonder Woman, my superhero, someone to hold me, soothe me, and tell me it’d be okay in the end.

The next hour was a blur. Miranda gave me a cup of cocoa with a dollop of fluffy cream coating the top. She listened to me while keeping her arm around my shoulders. I rambled on and on about the last six years with no concern for chronological order. She didn’t seem upset with me for hiding her grandson from her, for breaking her son’s heart.

When the confession and the cocoa were finished, she kissed the top of my head.

“I’m going to say to you the same thing I told Josh. It’s time for both of you to let go of the past and stop holding it against yourselves… against each other.”

“But what if we haven’t changed enough, what if we keep making the same mistakes?”

She shifted on the bench so that she now stared straight at me. My spine stiffened under her gaze. “Would you give up Lucas again?”

“No! I’m not sure I’ll be the best mother in the history of motherhood but, I’m sure gonna try hard.”

“There’s no such thing as the best mom, darling. All of us, we just try and do our best.”

“You don’t. I mean, I know Josh thinks you are the best.” I cleared my throat. “When I was a child, I liked to pretend you were my mom. All those Sundays I came here after church to have a slice of homemade apple pie … I pretended you baked it just for me.”

“But I did sweetie. That apple pie was for you. God knows Josh wolfed down enough food the rest of the week.”

Tears tingled my eyelids. “Thank you. That pie used to make me very happy.”

“I want you to promise me something Cassie.” I nodded. I’d have promised her anything. “You and Josh must stop second-guessing each other. Be more open about your feelings. When Lucas comes and lives with you, life is going to get busy. There’ll be school. There’ll be football practice, homework, play dates. It’s so easy to forget about the person living next to you because you don’t have time anymore for each other, for yourselves.” For a second, Miranda’s gaze got lost somewhere over my shoulder. “Never forget that before being Lucas’s mom and dad, you’re a man and a woman who love and respect each other. That’s what’s at the heart of a happy fam—”

Blazing lights tore through the night around the house. An Escalade I recognized parked behind my Chevy. Miranda sprang to her feet and mumbled a bad word I’d never heard her say before. Jack MacBride stumbled out of the SUV. The moment his eyes caught sight of me I knew the night was heading toward a different ending.

He stood at the bottom of the steps that led to the porch, his hands on his hips, his arms akimbo. “I told you I never wanted that trash in my house again.”

His voice was raw. The man had always been a moron, but booze turned him into a first-class jackass.

“It’s a good thing it’s not your house anymore then.” Miranda managed to sound in control but her fists closed tightly. “My father built it and it’ll go to Josh after me. Anyway, I’d like you to leave now. It’s late.”

“Don’t you dare order me around, woman.”

That was it. I wouldn’t let the man push Miranda around.

I stepped around her and looked down at him from the top of the porch.

“Mr. MacBride, please leave.” Having to say ‘please’ to him grated the inside of my throat, but after Miranda’s talk about letting the past go… well, MacBride was the part of my past I was more than happy to let go of.

“Just you shut up, you whore.”

“Jack!”

I held up my hand to keep Josh’s mother from coming forward and standing between her ex-husband-to-be and me.

I wished Josh was there. He was big and he had a way with words. I’d learned a few tricks listening to him talk though. “Mr. MacBride, I believe Miranda’s name is on the deed for this house. If you don’t get off the premise right now, I’m afraid you’ll be trespassing and we’ll have to call the sheriff.”

“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.

All I wanted to do was swinging her over my shoulder and get her the hell out of there.

Cassie checked out the room, oblivious to the men sitting by the bar that were checking her out. I bolted forward and, in a few strides, stood between my girl and the oglers.

“How did you find me?” I asked.

“Nice to see you too!” She threw back at me. “You told me the name of the bar and all I had to do was ask around. I’m not completely clueless.”

I kissed her cheek. I wanted to do much more since I’d not seen her in a week but it was hardly the place. “Sorry. I’m surprised, that’s all. You said you wouldn’t be here for ages and I resigned myself to wile away the time on my own.”

“Hey, MacBride!” Bradley passed by, probably back from the restroom. His gaze swept over Cassie’s body. The guy clearly wanted to have a longer look, but didn’t have the guts or bad manners to do so overtly. “Is this your wife?”

I left the question hanging. After Estevez’ pep-talk I had this overwhelming need to keep Cassie and our life together shut away from my career.

“I’m Cassandra.” She extended her hand.

“Bradley. I work with Josh.” He shook Cassie’s hand. “Nice to meet you. Do you want to join us? I’m dying to find some dirt on this husband of yours. He’s difficult to get to know.”

I cut in. “We had plans and—”

“—I’d love to.”

“Cool. Do you want something to drink?” Bradley turned toward the bar.

“A Bud, please.”

Since when was Cassie into networking? She waited for Bradley to reach the bar and answered my silent question, “I want to know more about your work…” She looked around the room with its stainless steel bar top and the mahogany walls. “That way I can hopefully support you better.”

I didn’t want Cassie dragged into this.

“I’ll be fine.” She squeezed my forearm and I started thinking Cassie had a crazy ability to read my mind.

Andy had left but everyone else was still there. I introduced her and you would have had to be blind to ignore how surprised my colleagues looked.

Ashlyn, the nineteen-year-old press intern, spoke up first. “I didn’t know Josh was married.” She didn’t make any effort to hide her disappointment. “He doesn’t wear a wedding ring.” She checked Cassie’s fingers which were wrapped around her bottle of beer. “Neither do you.”

Cassie threw me a look filled with questions and they weren’t about why we didn’t wear wedding rings. They were more about why I hadn’t mentioned my marital status.

“I take it you don’t work on the Hill?” Ashlyn gave Cassie the once-over. Her jeans and T-shirt didn’t scream out the typical ‘job-behind-a-desk.’

“I’m actually looking for a job.”

Laura, a woman in her mid-forties, asked, “What kind of work?”

“Well, back in Kansas, I used to—“

“Cassie is a singer and song-writer. She’s just finished touring with an Indie band.”

My revelation was received with a stunned silence. People on Capitol Hill weren’t known for their rock ’n’ roll spirit.

Ashlyn pointed at Cassie’s T-shirt, “Is that the band you were touring with?”

“Yep! Except they’re not a band anymore. Their frontman is going solo. His name is Shawn Dupret and you’re gonna hear about him soon. He’s awesome.”

The rest of our small circle nodded and Ashlyn even let out a ‘whoa.’ Ten more seconds of awkward silence when everyone’s gaze was stuck on their drinks and Bradley asked, “Laura, any idea when Andy is due at the White House?”

The energy picked up again and the conversation reverted to its lively pace. Cassie’s face froze in a smile while my colleagues exchanged views on the latest hearing and the upcoming challenges of the fall semester. I chimed in only when I was asked a direct question, and my answers were short. My hand rested on the small of Cassie’s back. I was waiting for her to finish her beer so I could signal our departure.

“Hi, guys!” Hewitt joined our group with his trademark fake positive attitude. He zeroed in on Cassie right away. “Do we have a new addition to our team? As the Deputy Chief of Staff, I’m shocked I wasn’t informed.” Each time Hewitt talked I heard the hiss of a snake in the background.

“This is Cassandra, Josh’s wife.” Bradley made the introductions before I could open my mouth. “Cassie, this is Peter, our ever-competent Deputy Chief of Staff.”

Cassie gave Peter her brightest smile. For it to be that bright, I knew she was faking it.