Another Notch in the Beltway (17 page)

“Perhaps I will. Give us something to talk about at least.”

“You do that,” Corrine said, absently blotting at a water spot that had spread over the silk, making the material look grease-stained. She sighed with disgust. “I need to leave. I planned to stay longer, but I need to go home and change before my DAR meeting.”

“Glad to give you an excuse to leave.”

“You flung the straw at me.”

“It was an accident,” he smirked.

“Right. I'll see you tomorrow or the next day,” Corrine said distractedly.

“Don't put yourself out, and don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way out.”

“No, no, no,” Lenore said vehemently.

They were working in her office late Monday evening. They'd spent most of the day making up.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Michael Patrick said with a hint of humor.

“Amanda is not that fickle. She wouldn't look to her agent for solace after a fight with Casper. Sure, she might talk to him as a brother-type friend with no benefits, but she wouldn't fall into his arms.”

“Jake Bishop is attracted to her. He's been pushing his feelings for her under every time they surface. But this is the first time he's afraid of truly losing his chance with her forever.”

“Ugh, but she's not attracted to Bishop that way. Not now, not ever,” she persisted.

“How about this then,” he waited until she focused on him. “Bishop kisses your Amanda, and Cass walks in, misunderstands what he sees—rightfully so, I might add—and walks out. He doesn't see Amanda push Jake away and read him the riot act. Amanda doesn't know that Cass saw the kiss.”

“I don't like it, but in the spirit of compromise, okay.”

He laughed. “You have very strong feelings about all your characters?”

“I do. I've had characters that are fickle or wishy-washy in their hearts, but Amanda Loring is not one of those women.”

“I see.”

She looked into his dancing blue eyes and had to smile. “You're making fun of me.”

“Not at all. I'm intrigued by how your mind works. How you embrace your craft and your characters' plights.”

Lenore eyed him suspiciously.

“I mean it.”

“Hmmm.”

“And I do appreciate your willingness to compromise.”

“You're surprised I did.”

“Yes and no. Yes, because you told me the first day here you might take over, and no, because you didn't compromise your character's traits, but rather her agent did.”

“Exactly, and if I were writing this book alone, Amanda would have sensed Jake's attraction and nipped it soundly in the bud.”

“Would she now, lass?”

“You bet.”

“Interesting. How about this? Jake makes moves on your Amanda. She soundly rebuffs him, as you say. Jake then tells Cass that he's an ass and if he doesn't get his shit together he's going to lose her.”

“It could work, and we could still do that, but I think your original idea works better. It gives more texture and physicality to the scene and conflict to the story.”

Pleased, he leaned over and kissed her. “That's high praise coming from LaSandra Lacy.”

“Ms. Lacy's life is not one given to compromise. Ms. Held's, on the other hand—”

“Is one of compromise and adaptability,” he suggested.

“Yes, when you raise a child, you…” She saw a cloud cross his face. “I'm sorry, MP,” she said gently and reached for his hand.

“It's all right,
mo chuisle
.” Raising their joined hands, he kissed hers. “Once in a while, the grief still hits me at odd times.”

She nodded her empathy. She could not possibly understand what it felt like to lose a child in the way MP had.

Clearing his throat, he asked, “So how long is Cass going to be angry with Amanda?”

“Don't know. It's a man thing. Your deal, Mr. Finnegan.”

“He's pretty stubborn and insecure when it comes to Amanda.”

“Cass is a pain in the ass,” Lenore laughed. “Talk about high maintenance.”

“Will your lass walk away?”

“Maybe she should. She's been fighting his walls and insecurities. She's getting tired of it.”

“He's not worth it?”

“Since we need an HEA, he has to be at some point, but I think I'll let Cass come to her. Tell her that he wants her and that Jake Bishop can't. Or maybe she walks in on Jake and Cass going at it over Bishop kissing her. Your call, MP. I'll play off of whatever you're willing to give me.”

“Will you, love?” He smiled and kissed her nose.

“I will, love.” She grinned and kissed his mouth.

“Have they had any luck with finding a donor for Jack?” Corrine asked Byron as they sat rigidly at the dining room table, each picking at their respective meals.

“Lots of volunteers. No matches yet, but the National Database will get a number of potential new donors as a result.”

Many of the senator's supporters and people with big hearts had come forward to be tested.

“That's good,” Corrine said, with meaning. “What are we going to do now? Wait for him to die? Watch him get sicker? What about going with the best match? I know there are potential ramifications, but at this point, how many options are there?”

“He's too weak. If the match isn't almost perfect, chances are he will die.”

Corrine took a sip of her wine, not saying anything.

“I'm going to appeal to the student body at Georgetown for help. I've had Morris write a piece for the school newspaper,” he said.

Actually, it was Morris's idea to begin with. Good cover story in case Nate was a match, and if he wasn't, possibly potential donors would come forward who could be a match. They were getting desperate. That's why he went to Lenore in the first place.

“He's going to die,” Corrine said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“We don't know that, Corrine,” Maxwell said, almost kindly.

She didn't respond, merely looked at her once-handsome husband and noted he looked as haggard and tired as she did. She took perverse pleasure in that.

“Have you seen Jack today?” Maxwell asked.

“I did, but he didn't want to see me.”

“I'll go by later tonight.”

“Suit yourself, but he does not want either of us there. Says we only come because it would look bad if we didn't. I suppose he has a point,” she said sadly.

He reached out to touch her arm, and she flinched away. “Please don't,” she said.

“I'm sorry,” he said, withdrawing his hand. “I wish things were different.”

He sounded sincere, but she knew he was a con, and she was not falling for it. “But they're not.” She stood abruptly, tossing her napkin on the table, and left.

****

The senator sat and finished his wine, the wine in the bottle, and finally what remained in his wife's glass. Truly foxed, he decided he was in no state to visit his critically ill son.

Maxwell moved to his library and poured himself a double scotch. He slumped into his desk chair, closed his eyes, and slowly sipped from the glass. Jack thinks that no one cares if he lives or dies, Maxwell thought. His son's existence was his doing alone. The old adage, it takes two to tango, did not apply here. When his wife got pregnant with Jack, she was not doing the tango. It was one of the few things in his life he regretted.

Later in the week, Lenore and MP were taking a break for lunch after a very productive morning of writing. The sunlight flooded her kitchen, making it feel as warm and cozy as the hot chocolate warming on the stove. A delicious smell filled the room.

“In Victorian times, hot chocolate was a luxury for only the ultra-wealthy,” Lenore said.

“Shaving Belgium milk chocolate to stir into hot milk over a double boiler is quite a treat in the current age. It's a far cry from the powdered stuff you nuke in the microwave.”

“It tastes better.”

“You bet it does,
mo chuisle
.”

He got up to give her a kiss. “And the homemade whipped cream…”—he dipped his finger into the bowl and traced her lips with it, then devoured her mouth—“is better than the hot chocolate.”

“Really?”

“Let's be sure.”

He repeated the prior exercise but didn't stop at her lips. He drew a line down her neck to the peak of cleavage he could see above the V of her sweater. Using his tongue, he then followed the path he'd made.

Lenore moved closer and molded her hips to his, feeling his desire for her.

“I think we need to turn off the stove and adjoin to a user-friendly surface,” he suggested.

“Yes, but now it's my turn to dabble with the whipped cream.” She picked up the bowl and led him to the bedroom.

“I'm a willing dabblee.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

Her dancing eyes and beautiful smile left him more breathless than thoughts of the white confection.

“What?” She laughed, taking in his look of awe.

“You.” He pulled her to him and cupped her bottom. “You are the most incredible woman.”

Her eyes continuing to glisten, she said, “You're pretty incredible yourself.”

He pulled her even tighter and kissed her possessively. At that moment, he realized he'd never been properly in love before.

Gently he lifted the bottom of her sweater and let it drift to the floor. Her nipples already aroused, he kissed them through the pink silk of her bra. She arched into him, causing him to moan.

“I'm going to make passionate love to you,
a chuisle
.”

“Yes, oh yes.”

He leaned her onto the bed and slowly undressed her, teasing and tantalizing her along the way.

“My turn,” she said when she was totally nude.

“Not yet, I want to enjoy looking at you, arousing you, watching your skin flush as you come.”

She blushed.

“A deeper shade of pink than you are now.” He ran a finger from the hollow between her breasts to her clitoris. Making lazy circles, he leaned to suckle her breasts. Then his finger continued downward and entered her slick passage; he added two more. Her breathing hitched and her muscles contracted around his fingers. She was close.

“Come for me, Lenore.” She did with unselfconscious abandon. MP liked that he had the ability to make her forget herself.

He lay down with her, still fully clothed, while she snuggled into him. Michael Patrick pulled the blanket over her and kissed her forehead, eyes, nose, and finally her lips. “You are the most extraordinary shade of rose,” he said, looking into the facets of her eyes.

“I feel like a burning bush.”

“That's an interesting visual.”

“Maybe we can ignite,” she said, straddling him and going to work on his buttons.

****

The insistent ring of the phone startled Lenore awake. Heart pounding, she grabbed it and swiftly left the room so as not to wake MP. Caller ID showed it was Nathan. She took the phone to a small lofted sitting area.

“Hi, honey,” she said in an unused voice.

“Did I wake you, Mom?” asked Nate.

“I was dozing.”

“Right.”

“I was,” she said defensively.

“Okay, you were dozing. I wanted to let you know that I went to be tested this afternoon, and I should know if I'm a match within forty-eight hours or so.”

“How'd it go?”

“No big deal. But they did both a blood test and cheek swab. They usually do one or the other. I guess they're being extra careful since its Senator Maxwell's kid they're testing for.”

“You're most likely right.”

“Yeah, but I was wondering if you and your new boyfriend wanted to come and have dinner with Kelly and me this weekend. By then, I figure we'll need to talk about the transplant or we can celebrate the fact that I'm not a match.”

“Sure, I'll check with Michael Patrick and see if he's free. But I'll be there for sure. I want to meet the young woman who's made a place in my son's heart.”

“Ditto for you, Mom. Except for age and gender.” He laughed again. She was glad to see he was in a good mood.

“Hey, we're not that old.”

“Nope, you're hot for a mom.”

“Stop,” she said, laughing. “Aren't you supposed to be embarrassed to have conversations like this with your mother?”

“Why, I like having the hottest Mom on campus.”

“Enough,” she said, knowing he was teasing her now. “I'll see if I can get reservations at the Ritz Carlton, and we'll make a weekend of it.”

“Sounds good, Mom. I gotta go. I'm meeting a study group across campus.”

“All right, but, Nate, are you coping okay with all this? It's a lot for anyone.”

“So far so good. Not sure how I'll feel if I'm a match, and I'm concerned that this could leak. Plus, I hate not being able to tell Kelly about what I'm doing. It was okay last weekend. I said I was coming home to visit you, but I think she was hurt I didn't invite her to come with me to meet you. Then today I had to sneak off to get the tests done.”

“I'm sorry, honey. I'm taking a big chance here, but if you think she's the one, and you can trust her, tell her. No reason Maxwell and his son should come between you and Kelly.”

“Thanks, Mom. I'm not sure if I'll tell her or not, but knowing you trust my judgment means a lot to me.”

She felt tears sting her eyes. “I do, Nate. Do what you feel is right.”

“I will. I'm sorry, I need to get moving.”

“Go. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Mom. Let me know when you'll be arriving.”

Lenore sat for a moment thanking her lucky stars that she had such a great kid. Then she sighed, feeling guilty about what Maxwell was doing to him and what could potentially happen if word got out he was Maxwell's son.