The Senator's Daughter (20 page)

He met the senator on the deck off the great room. The senator offered him a brandy, which he declined in favor of coffee. Depending on how the conversation went, he might have to drive a couple of hours tonight and he was already exhausted.

“When I was a kid, there was nothing but woods and the Potomac River back here. Now all that's left is a few trees. They pack houses onto every square inch of available land.”

The senator started every difficult conversation with meaningless small talk. He knew from experience the lead-up could go on for the better part of an hour. It wasn't as if Alex was expecting the senator's blessing to date his newfound daughter. He cleared his throat.

“Sir, I didn't mean to spring my relationship with Kat on you. The truth is, it sneaked up on both of us.”

The senator turned and sat in a rocking chair. Alex followed suit.

“I was surprised. Heard you went on a date with Mellie.”

“I've been trying to avoid getting involved with Kat, sir, for the obvious reasons. But after my time in Iraq, I figured life's too short not to explore our feelings for each other.”

“And what would those obvious reasons be?”

“Excuse me?”

“You said you didn't want to get involved with Kat for the obvious reasons. What are those?”

“Well, for one, she's your daughter, sir, and you may not approve of her dating someone who works for you.” Alex knew his place; it had been ingrained in him since childhood.
You're the son of the cleaning lady.

The senator laughed. “To be honest with you, Alex, I was rather hoping you and Vickie would get together.”

Alex sat up straighter.
What?
He'd always assumed the senator wouldn't want him getting involved with his family. He'd never considered Vickie. “Sir, Vickie is much younger than me.”

“Hardly—only seven years. A decade ago, when you were in your twenties and she was a teenager, I'd have taken issue, but you're both adults now.”

“Sir, I've always seen Vickie as a kid, a sister of sorts. I've never felt for her romantically.”
Why am I discussing the merits of dating a daughter I'm not interested in?

“I think Kat's a fine young woman.” The senator picked up his snifter and swirled it around. Alex knew what he was going to say and prepared his response.

“...but she's not the type of woman who can support your plans.”

“I think we've underestimated her. She's bright and articulate. She did well with ad-libbing the troop speech in Iraq. We can work with her on media presence and tempering her statements...”

Even as he said the words, he realized he was talking about changing Kat fundamentally. What drew him to her was her fire, her insistence on sticking to her guns.

“She's a lot like her mother, and Emilia was—still is—the greatest love of my life.” Alex stared at the senator. It was obvious he cared about Kat's mother; he could see it in the way he'd looked at her tonight, but he'd had no idea that the senator's feelings ran that deep. “Learn from my experience, son—I tried really hard with Emilia, and I was ready to give up my dreams for her. But it never would've worked.”

Alex leaned forward. “Why not? Surely there was a way to compromise?”

Senator Roberts shook his head. “This is who I am. I could've done other things, but I wouldn't have been happy. Emilia tried, she really did, but she couldn't change who she was, either. And I probably wouldn't have loved her if she became a different woman.” He looked at Alex with shining blue eyes. The same intense blue eyes that Kat had. “I was foolish and in love when I married, convinced that we'd find a way to make it work. But reality, it has a way of coming crashing down on you, to remind you that nothing ever works out that perfectly. You have to decide what you want to give up.”

And you weren't willing to give up your political aspirations for love.
The words were on his lips, but he didn't dare say them out loud. Who was he to judge the senator? He hadn't had that conversation with himself. But he also didn't believe there wasn't a way. He spent his life negotiating compromises; there was always a middle ground, a way to give from each side.

“She looked beautiful tonight. All the stuff in the reports about her bipolar disorder, I didn't see any of it. She seemed like the woman I married, the one who broke my heart.”

The senator was a million miles away. Alex had shared the reports on Kat and Emilia with the senator when the story first broke. They hadn't discussed it except for the senator's insistence on getting to know Kat. He'd told Alex he had already set up a trust fund for her, similar to what he had for his other children.

“If you could go back in time, would you do things differently, sir?” Alex couldn't help asking the question he was sure the senator didn't have an answer for.

Bill Roberts shook his head and took a sip of the dark amber liquid in his glass, scrunching his nose as he swallowed. “I thought she'd come back. I figured if I kept her at arm's length, she'd realize she couldn't live without me and come back, ready to compromise, to do things my way. I was an arrogant young man. By the time I realized she was gone for good, I was so angry, all I wanted to do was show her I could move on.”

“So you married Carol.”

He nodded. “I'd known her all my life. We were family friends and she stepped right in when Emilia left. It was the easy thing to do. Don't get me wrong—I loved Carol. I took care of her...”

“I don't doubt that, sir,” Alex said quickly. The senator's marriage with Carol was legendary, and for once in political history, it wasn't spin. He'd never cheated; he genuinely spent time with his family and actively parented his children. In fact, he'd been asked to be on the vice presidential ticket when Vickie and Walt were in high school, and he declined. He'd wanted to be present to mentor his kids through college.

Alex hadn't believed it when he'd first read the articles; that was how all politicians' biographies read. “Family reasons” were always a subterfuge to avoid scandal and hide betrayal. But once he met Vickie and Walt, he saw that the senator was the real deal. It was a big part of what Alex loved about the man. His question about whether the senator regretted giving up on his marriage to Emilia had been genuine; he'd seen the senator pass up opportunities for his family's sake. He declined meetings with heavyweight donors because he had dinner plans with his children. He never missed graduations and college events no matter how difficult they were to fit into his schedule. And he regularly put on an apron and cooked for his family. How had he given up on love?

“Love is not enough, son. Don't get me wrong—you need to respect and care for your partner, but a life in politics is stressful. You need to have support from your better half. Emilia was so volatile—I didn't think back then that it was more than just a fiery personality. I didn't want to spend my life arguing about policies, controlling chaos and strife in the house. People often called me and Carol an old, boring married couple. I preferred to think of us as stable.”

Alex's chest burned, and he wanted nothing more than to tell the senator he was wrong, that he'd miscalculated what life with Emilia would've been like, but he couldn't. Aside from dinner and breakfast this morning, he'd never had a conversation with Kat that didn't result in an argument. What would he do when she riled him up? When her strong temper lit up his explosive side?

“You're going to be president one day, you know.” The senator's voice was soft, mellowed by the cool night air and the brandy he'd been sipping.

Alex laughed. “How about we focus on getting
you
elected first.”

But the senator wasn't listening. “I hear there might be some openings soon. One more high-profile position, then you run for governor of Virginia in four years—you'll need it to win the presidential. It's going to be a purple state for years to come.”

In any election, the states were identified as red or blue depending on whether they tended to vote Republican or Democratic. Purple states were battleground or swing states. Virginia had been firmly red, but in recent years, with the increasingly liberal influence of Northern Virginia, which bordered Washington, DC, and Maryland, the state was beginning to polarize. The last few elections had all been within five polling points.

Alex and the senator had the conversation about his career once a year, usually with Alex drinking coffee and the senator sipping brandy, but the tone was different this time. The senator wasn't just sounding off. He was laying out timelines and details with a level of specificity they hadn't discussed before. All of a sudden, the hypothetical was becoming real.

But the more the senator talked, the more the knot in Alex's stomach twisted, sending a burning sensation up through his belly and into his chest.
This is what I want, isn't it?
He should be grateful, and he was. Every man he'd ever worked for had tried to hold him back, keep him in a position where Alex wouldn't overshadow him. They were never going to let Alex become one of the elite. The senator had treated him like a son, taken him under his wing and shaped his success. He was the only person who accepted what Alex aspired to be.
Why can't I just be happy? Because he doesn't fully trust me. If he did, he wouldn't have had Crista keep an eye on me for him.

The senator's next words pulled him out of his internal musings like the ringing of a fire alarm.

“Vickie's career can be fast-tracked if she's the governor's wife first.”

Suddenly, things clicked into place for him. “You've been grooming me to set the path for Vickie.”

The senator winced at Alex's tone. “I've invested in your future.”

“Is that what you were doing when you asked Crista to spy on me?”

“I asked her to watch out for you, make sure you didn't make foolish moves. You had too much of an emotional stake in the IED bill,” he replied with the smoothness of a practiced politician.

Alex took a breath to calm himself. There was no point in arguing with the senator. He was playing the game.

“How long have you had this plan?”

“Don't get testy with me, Alex. I hired you because you were qualified. I promoted you because you were good. Vickie's always liked you—don't tell me you haven't noticed her being sweet on you. You two would be very good for each other.”

“You'd want me to marry your daughter, knowing I don't love her.”

The senator stood, swirling the dredges of amber liquid in his snifter. “Until you told me about Kat, I thought you got along well with Vickie. She has feelings for you.”

And until he'd met Kat, he would've welcomed this conversation with the senator. “Sir, I love Kat. Like the love you had for Emilia.”

“But if you married Vickie, it would be like my marriage to Carol. It's your decision, son. Know this, though—if you want to be with Kat, you have to be willing to give up on becoming president. I'll give you my blessing either way. Love only comes once in a lifetime, but a presidency sets you up for generations.”

An uneasy feeling settled into his stomach. He wanted to take the senator at his word, but years of experience had taught him to read between the lines.

He'd never considered Vickie for a life partner, in large part because he assumed she was off-limits, but she was exactly the type of woman he had always wanted.
This is the kind of deal I've been waiting for my whole life. He's giving me an inside ticket.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

S
OMETHING
WAS
GOING
on with Alex. He'd been avoiding her for a week. His
claim that he had a lot of work to do in DC seemed legitimate, but Kat couldn't
shake the feeling that he was pulling away from her. He'd made a surprise
announcement the morning after the dinner with her father that he was delegating
his campaign responsibilities to Crista so he could focus on the IED bill, which
was coming up for vote soon. The vote was scheduled for tomorrow. Something was
up, and it bothered Kat that she didn't know what.

Her mother was being similarly aloof. Emilia had been
positively giddy after the dinner with the senator, but she still refused to
open up about what they were privately discussing, first at the house and then
on their nightly phone calls.

“What are you working on?”

Kat jumped at Crista's voice behind her. “Just an analysis of
what the passage of the IED bill might mean for future spending.”

Crista rolled her eyes. “Is this for your book?”

Kat nodded. She'd written two versions of a critical chapter on
the IED legislation. One continuing to argue how wasteful the spending would be,
and the other analyzing it from Alex's perspective. Reading each chapter
multiple times, she'd finally gone with what felt right to her.

She was grateful that it had been slow at the campaign office
the past few days. Congress was almost ready to go to recess, so all the action
was in Washington, DC, where they were trying to get a budget passed in addition
to the IED bill vote. The senator was down ten points in the polls, a
significant hit. Crista was hoping that the passage of the IED bill would get
them back on track. Until then, there was nothing to do.

“So, are you and Nathan ever going to take that hike?” Crista
and Kat had gotten closer since Alex's return. They'd even gone out to lunch
this week.

Crista sighed dramatically. “He hasn't brought it up, and the
one time I did, he changed the subject. I think he's intimidated by my new
role.”

“But not much has changed—you were running the place before,
too.”

Crista stared at Kat. “Do you not get how big a deal it was for
Alex to delegate primary responsibility to me?”

Guess not.

“I was his right-hand woman before, but he was the boss, making
the strategic decisions, having the difficult conversations. Now I do that, and
it's not an easy role. It often creates tension with the staff. Like yesterday,
when I asked Nathan to redo his research on the policy statement the opponent
put out on military spending because I didn't think he did a good job.”

Kat swallowed. She hadn't really absorbed the news that Crista
was now her boss. But more important, was it a demotion for Alex? Had the
senator punished him for being with her?

“And in four months, the campaign will be over and we're all
going back to our previously scheduled lives,” Crista continued.

Kat sat up. She knew her time here was limited, but she hadn't
thought about what it meant for everyone else. “So where are you two going?”

“I have a couple of offers in DC, but I haven't decided what
I'll take. Nathan is going to get his PhD. He's already been accepted to
Berkeley. In fact, he'll be leaving the campaign in a few weeks.”

“But...”

Crista stood. “He has different goals than I do. He wants to
work for a think tank or possibly even do TV reporting.” She widened her arms
and gestured to everyone around her. “I love this, the energy, the life-changing
work. Our paths are diverging, that's all.”

Something twisted inside Kat's chest and she sat up straighter.
“Listen, that's not true. There are a ton of schools and think tanks around DC.
With his background, he could become a political correspondent.”

“Campaign romances are always temporary,” Crista said
dismissively, walking away. Kat wondered whether she was looking for an excuse
not to get involved with Nathan...and whether it was one of the reasons Alex had
pushed away from her.

The day went by quickly. Though she had been with the campaign
for only a little over a month, her book was due to the publishers in under four
weeks. The dean had called to say they needed it as soon as possible to get it
into circulation before the election. She still hadn't dropped that bomb on
Alex, but knew she had to say something the next time she saw him. More
important, she needed to tell him what she was writing so he wouldn't feel
blindsided. Her BlackBerry buzzed and a shiver of excitement went through her as
a text from Alex popped up.

Go to primail.com and set up a free email account. Send me the
address.

She frowned. What was this about? Somehow she'd been expecting
something a little more romantic from him. And why couldn't he just call or
email her campaign account? Then she remembered the campaign emails were
monitored. Probably by Crista. She sighed. Alex would probably say this was just
how the game was played, but she didn't believe it. Surely there was another way
to run a campaign, one where friends didn't feel the need to spy on each
other.

Still, she wanted to hear from him, so she followed his
directions and texted him the address she'd set up. The website said it was
private, encrypted email. She went to the account and a message popped up from
Alex. She looked over her shoulder then opened it.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: We need to talk

I'm in back-to-back meetings and can't call. Just found out the
senator is going to your house tonight. You need to talk to your mother. It's
not my place to tell you what I know, but she's been keeping a secret from
you.

—Alex

A bitter taste filled her mouth. She had bitten the inside of
her cheek. Something was going on with her mother and Alex was keeping it from
her? How could he? Knowing how much she worried about her mother, why would he
torture her like this?

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: This is not funny.

Do you really think it's okay to send me an email like that? Call
me or do some fast typing. Tell me what's going on.

—Kat

She refreshed her screen several times, but it took a full ten
minutes to get a short email that simply said
I can't. I'm
sorry. Go home and talk to your mother.

A
n
d just like that, she knew what was
going on with her and Alex. He'd picked sides, and it wasn't hers. She grabbed
her bag and let Crista know she was heading out. While driving, she tried Alex
on his BlackBerry, his office phone, even the private phone she knew he kept in
the car in case his cell ran out of battery. She gave up when she passed by a
police cruiser. The last thing her dwindling savings account needed was a
texting-and-driving ticket.

Parking in the driveway, she took a breath and went to her
front door, ignoring Rex's barking. Did it smell like...
apple pie
? She walked into the kitchen to find her mother wearing
one of her pretty dresses under an apron. Her hair was done; she even had
lipstick on. She looked like she could be on the cover of
Good Housekeeping
.

“Kat, you're home early.”

“Mom, what're you doing?”

“Your father is coming over for dinner. I made his favorite
apple pie. I was thinking we could go have dinner at that nice Italian place
then come back here for dessert.”

Kat stepped into the kitchen. “Mother, why is he coming
here?”

She shrugged, washing out a mixing bowl in the sink. “Oh, who
knows. Probably just to say hello.”

Kat took a breath to keep herself calm. “Mom, I've had enough.
You need to tell me what you've been discussing with my father.”

Emilia turned off the water and stood with her arms on the
kitchen sink. “Put on a pot of coffee.”

They sat in the living room. Kat warmed her hands on her mug.
Despite the warm day, she felt a chill in her bones.

“I've been keeping something from you, Katerina.” Her mother's
hands shook as she picked up her own mug and took a sip. “Remember three years
ago when you took me to see the doctor?”

It could've been any number of trips. Kat didn't specifically
remember, but she nodded. She had yet to drink any of her coffee; she was so
nauseous, she was sure anything she sent to her stomach would come right back
up.

“I asked to speak to the doctor privately.”

Kat narrowed her eyes. She vaguely remembered that visit... It
might have been the first time her mother had requested privacy, but Kat hadn't
thought much about it since the doctors always talked to her about treatment
plans anyway.

“I'd been having some symptoms, and I didn't want to worry you,
so I talked to the doctor and she ran some tests.”

Kat set the mug down. She didn't have the strength in her hands
to hold it. “What kind of symptoms?”

“There's no easy way to say this, so I just have to tell you. I
have Parkinson's.”

This can't be true.
Her mother must
be mistaken. How could she have hidden this from Kat for three years?

“Mom, I'm sure that's not right. I would've seen the signs. Not
once have I seen your hands tremble.”

“I've been having trouble sleeping and writing.”

Kat knew her mother had insomnia; she had assumed it was a side
effect of the psychiatric medications. She'd even mentioned it to the doctor,
who had subsequently changed her mother's dosages.

“Does Dr. Leventhal know about this?”

Emilia nodded. “I asked him not to tell you. She's bound by
doctor-patient confidentiality.”

Doctor-patient confidentiality?
Since when was her mother in charge of her own health care? How could the
doctors keep something like this from Kat? While she didn't have power of
attorney over her mother, Kat had always been her primary caregiver and the
doctors consulted her on everything.

Kat had a million questions. She grilled her mother about the
details, of which there were few. She was in the early stages but would get
worse as the years went on. That was why the doctor had authorized taking Emilia
off the lithium and refused to put her back on even after Kat insisted. The
doctor had recently put her on new medication. Medication that her mother took
without Kat's knowledge, sometimes with the help of the nursing company. Nurses
that Kat sacrificed her own needs to pay for, but who were asked to keep Kat in
the dark.

“Why didn't you tell me?”

Her mother sighed. “You've spent your whole life taking care of
me. I found out right when Colin left. You were already hurting—it was time for
me to start being your mother.”

Kat put a hand to her mouth to stifle a hysterical laugh that
threatened to escape. What world was her mother living in? Hiding critical
medical information from Kat so she couldn't properly manage her bipolar
disorder was parenting?

“I know you're upset. I wasn't going to tell you, but I didn't
want you to hear it from your father.”

“
He
knows?” Now the tremble in
Kat's hands was from the rage burning inside her.

“Kat, I need to make sure someone will take care of you if I
die, and who better than your father?”

Kat couldn't take it anymore. “My father?” she sputtered. “When
did you tell him?”

“About a year ago. We were trying to figure out a way to talk
to you when the story broke.”

“Is that why he's coming to dinner? So you can tell me about
your illness before it's broadcast on the news? I'm a grown woman, Mom. I don't
need a father—or a mother, for that matter. The time for needing a parent is
long gone.”

She picked up her purse and walked out. She didn't want to see
the senator. Did Alex know about this? Was that why he sent her home to talk to
her mother? So he'd hidden it from her, too. She got into her car and slammed
the door shut. She wasn't going to cry. She'd used up all her tears the last
time she was betrayed. The one constant in her life, the one person she knew
would never betray her, was her mother.

A knock on the window made her head jerk. She hit the button to
roll it down. “What're you doing here?”

“I came to make sure you're okay.”

She opened the door and got out.

“Did you know, Alex?”

“Kat.”

Of course he knew. That was what the email had been about. She
wasn't going to cry. She knew how to deal with a man betraying her.

“Alex, I need an honest answer. How long have you known?”

“I just found out this morning, I swear. If I'd known earlier,
I would've told you. The senator said he was coming over for dinner and that he
and your mom planned to tell you. I sent you the email because I wanted you to
be prepared.”

“So why are you here? Why didn't you just call and tell
me?”

“Crista said you tore out of headquarters. I got worried.”

Kat pointed to the house behind her. “She lied to me, Alex. You
lied to me.”

He placed his hands on her shoulders. “Kat, I didn't know
before today, I promise.”

She placed a hand on his chest and her heart leaped into her
throat as she felt the rise and fall of his breaths. Was he telling her the
truth? Her mother had revealed that she'd called her father nearly a year ago.
They had been talking since well before the news story broke.

“The senator told me this morning after he had me shuffle
around some very important meetings so he could come down here. He's set up a
trust fund for you—your mother asked him to make sure that you were taken care
of, like the rest of his children.”