The Senator's Daughter (24 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

A
LEX
RAN
HIS
hand over the picture of him and the senator. “Do you need help with the packing?”

He turned to see Crista and smiled. She came and gave him a quick hug. “I can't believe you did that,” she said.

“You deserve it. Just do me a favor and stay with the senator through the election. I already took responsibility for him losing.”

She nodded. “So, don't keep me in suspense. You wouldn't have given up the chance to be the next VP's chief of staff unless you had something bigger. So what is it?”

He shook his head. “First off, there's no guarantee the Republicans will win. But I have nothing. I don't want this anymore.”

The look on her face mirrored his own. He'd been equally surprised when he'd impulsively told the senator he was quitting. He had been sitting in on a constituent meeting and watched the senator make non-promises to “look into” an issue. All Alex could think about was how Kat hated the way politicians handled such meetings and realized he didn't want to do the job anymore.

Shortly after, the vice presidential nominee had called and officially asked if Alex would be willing to become his chief of staff. The words to accept had been on his lips, but he'd recommended Crista instead. In that moment, all he remembered was his phone call to the governor, shaking the hand of a man he loathed, watching his mother's face as she threw the newspaper at him. It was not the person he wanted to be.

He needed to be a man worthy of a woman like Kat, someone she'd be proud of. A man who didn't compromise his ideals. A man who could protect the ones he loved.

“What are you going to do?”

He dropped the picture into one of several cardboard boxes. “I'm not sure. I'm going to take some time to figure it out.”

“Does this have anything to do with a certain media-shy secret daughter?”

He laughed. “I haven't spoken to her.”

“Why not?”

“Because...”

She raised her eyebrow and he shook his head. How could he describe all the reasons he and Kat couldn't be together?

“You know there's always a middle ground, a compromise.” He looked at her quizzically, and Crista smiled shyly. “Nathan and I are going to do the long-distance thing. He'll get his PhD and I'll hopefully end up in the White House. We want to see what we have.”

Alex reached out and squeezed her hand. “I'm happy for you.”

“She forgave me, you know. For being a crappy friend. Relationships are not just about give-and-take, Alex. Sometimes they're about admitting you're wrong and asking forgiveness.”

She stood to leave.

“Close the door behind you. I need to get packed up.”

She'd been gone only a second when there was a knock on the door. He crossed the room to open it. “What did you forget—” He stopped.

How did she do it? Take his breath away. He stepped aside as she entered the room, not waiting for his permission. She was dressed in a pale peach dress, her skin glowing with the hint of a summer sun.

“Kat, you look beautiful.” His voice was whisper-soft as she breezed past him.

“I figured since you're so insanely stubborn, it was up to me to make the first move. Again.”

He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and tell her he wanted nothing more than to be at her side for the rest of his life.

“I don't ever want to hurt you.” His voice caught, but he didn't care. She needed to see the raw pain in his heart.

“What're you talking about?”

“I saw the bruise on your arm.”

She frowned. “What bruise?”

He pointed to the spot on her arm where he'd grabbed her.

“There's nothing here, Alex.”

“It's healed by now.”

“Look at me.”

He looked up to see her eyes big and wet.

“There was never a bruise. I swear to you! Do you know why I haven't let a man get close to me since Colin?”

He lowered his eyes, but she reached out and stroked his cheek. He leaned into her caress, desperate for her touch.

“It's because all I felt with them was fear and a sickening repulsion. I'm not afraid of you, Alex. You don't hurt me—you can't hurt me. Because all I feel when I'm with you is love.”

She wrapped her arms around him and her goodness filled his heart. He needed her to make him the man he wanted to be. Pulling her close, he bent his head, just enough. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him with abandon, her fierceness matching his own. The familiar fire she ignited burned through him, shattering every bit of his control. But this time, he let her soul embrace his; let himself feel her love, let it bloom inside him.

“I did say I like dark and nutty,” she said breathlessly, when they came up for air.

He laughed, and as he looked into her eyes, he knew that he could never be whole without her. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Be my campaign manager.”

“Excuse me?”

She stepped back and he immediately missed the feel of her pressed against him. She linked her fingers with his. “Do you know why I decided to run?”

He pulled her close. “Because you want to be a different kind of politician. One who only takes the morning meetings and runs her campaign with honest contributions. You want to save the babies in Guam and show the rest of Washington, DC, that it's not about the game, but about serving people.”

She smiled. “That's why I need a campaign manager. To make sure I get elected so I can actually have a chance to do those things. I need someone who believes in me, who'll understand where I'm coming from.”

He shook his head. “This is a step down for me, managing an unknown candidate's congressional run.”

She let go of his hands. “My father said you quit his campaign.”

“He's your father now? Not the senator?”

She smiled, her eyes full of sparkle, like the shining blue surface of the Caribbean Sea.

“I'm warming up to him. Believe me, he won't be getting the Senator of the Year award from me, but I think he's trying hard to be my father. He moved the wedding, saw how hard it was on my mother, so he did the right thing.”

“He asked me to marry Vickie.” Alex didn't want there to be any more secrets between them.

“I know—he told me. He also said that he handed you the path to the presidency on a silver platter and you turned it down. Because of me. He doesn't have any hard feelings—he made a plan and struggled to regroup when things shifted around him. I think he's still getting used to the fact that I'm a Democrat.” She said the last part with a smile so mischievous that he couldn't help bending his head and giving her a kiss on the top of hers.

“That's another reason not to be your campaign manager. We'll always be arguing.”

“At least dinner won't be boring.” She grinned, but then her tone grew serious. “Alex... I want you in my life. Tell me what you want and we'll work it out. If you want to run, I'll stand beside you. The media doesn't scare me anymore.”

He didn't know why he'd done it, but the day he returned from Iraq, he'd passed by a store at the airport and made an impulsive purchase. It had been burning a hole in his breast pocket ever since. He knelt on the floor.

“Katerina Driscoll, you are the only woman who has ever made me lose my mind. You threaten every fiber of my self-control, and I want nothing more than to have you keep doing it. I won't be your campaign manager because I want to be your husband. Will you marry me?” He opened the box, which held a deep blue sapphire ring. Somehow, she didn't seem like the type of girl to want diamonds.

She stared at him, her eyes big and filled with tears.

“Kat, don't keep me waiting.”

She dropped to her knees and cupped his face. “Oh, my God, you stubborn man. Yes. Yes, I will marry you. I thought you'd never ask.”

He kissed her, letting go of every bit of self-control he had.

EPILOGUE

“I
N
A
SURPRISING
VICTORY
, Katerina Driscoll will be the
new congresswoman from Virginia. Ms. Driscoll—excuse me, Dr. Driscoll—left
shortly after her victory speech to be the maid of honor at the wedding of her
father, former senator Roberts, who lost his senate seat by a narrow margin to a
newcomer. The former senator is remarrying his first wife and Congresswoman
Driscoll's mother in a private ceremony. The details are sketchy, but we know
that only immediate family members and close friends have been invited.”

Kat ignored the TV blaring in the background as she helped her
mother with her makeup. The lessons she'd received on her makeover day were
proving useful after all.

“Okay, I have something blue,” Crista said. She had come early
to help get her mother ready. She held out her hand and Kat laughed. It was a
Kat for Congress button with the blue colors of the Democratic Party.

Her mother snatched it out of Crista's hand. “I think it's
perfect.”

“Okay, so we have you in your old wedding dress, a new pair of
shoes and the something blue. What about borrowed?” Crista asked.

Kat touched the pendant on her neck then reached back and
unclasped it. “Here's her something borrowed.”

“Your necklace,” her mother whispered reverently.

Kat smiled. “I don't need it anymore. I want you to wear it.”
She clasped it around her mother's neck, hoping it would help her find strength
and happiness.

Kat's phone rang, and she looked at the number before excusing
herself.

“Captain Atao.”

“Congratulations on your win, Congresswoman.” Her voice sounded
muffled, and Kat knew her connection from Brazil might be unstable. They had
been playing phone tag for weeks. “I hear you've been trying to get hold of me.
Is this about the literature I sent?”

“Your information was very useful. I'd like to go to Guam in
the next few months and bring some media attention to the issues we've been
discussing,” Kat told her. “I'd like you to come with me.”

All she heard was faint crackling.

“Captain Atao, did I lose you?”

“I'm here. I...I can't go to Guam.”

Kat frowned at the phone. Anna Atao had been so helpful in
sending her documents and spending countless hours talking to her about the
situation in Guam. She was obviously passionate about the place and the people
there.

“I'm sorry, but I can't go back there, Congresswoman. No matter
what.” The panic in her voice was palpable.

“What happened there, Captain?” she asked in a soft voice.

“I can't talk about it. Please. I'll send you anything else you
need. This is an important issue, but I can't...” Her voice cracked.

Kat's mother motioned to her. “Captain, I have to go now, but
please just think about it.” It was one of the first issues Kat hoped to fight
for. She knew no one else would take it up. The few members of Congress she met
were focusing on “high priority” issues, which was a nice way of saying those
things that would get them more power. No one cared about babies in a US
territory that had no delegates to the electoral college or congressional voting
rights. That was why it was her top issue.

“Please, make a visit there...” Anna implored her. “Don't give
up on the issue because of me.” They disconnected, but Anna's broken voice
stayed with Kat. She wondered what had happened to Captain Atao that she
couldn't go back to Guam.

“Look, Kat!”

She turned to see Crista had put the veil on her mother's head.
Emilia was a stunning sight of beauty and elegance in a vintage-inspired dress
with long lace sleeves and a lace top that cinched at the waist with a silver
brooch. The cream silk skirt fell to the floor.

Kat escorted her mother to the garden, where the senator stood
with the priest. As Kat handed over her mom, her father smiled at her gratefully
then turned his attention to the woman he loved. Vickie and Walt were by his
side. She smiled at her half brother and sister, looking forward to the upcoming
holidays, which they'd all agreed to spend together, as a family.

She took her place next to her mother. Alex was standing on the
senator's side of the garden. Her eyes found his and he mouthed, “I love you.”
He had taken a position as the CEO of a nonprofit organization that defended
abused women. Vickie had become Kat's chief of staff after managing her campaign
so beautifully.

As the small wedding party danced underneath the stars, Alex
pulled her close and pressed his mouth to her ear. She let the warmth of his
breath tingle all the way down to her toes. “A week is too long to wait to make
you my wife.”

She smiled. She had everything in the world she ever
wanted.

* * * * *

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SPECIAL EXCERPT FROM

Read on for a sneak preview of Dr. Anna Atao's story in book two of Sophia Sasson's exciting and emotional series,
STATE OF THE UNION
.

F
IVE
YEARS
,
TWENTY
-
SEVEN
DAYS
and ten hours since she left and swore never to return. Anna watched the swirls of aquamarine, green and royal blue surrounding the little patch of island she once called home. A tiny drop of land in the bucket of the great Pacific Ocean. At ten thousand feet, the view was breathtakingly beautiful, but as the helicopter dropped, the serene vision gave way to the carnage of broken buildings and debris-littered streets. She swallowed hard.

Anna was the only passenger on board, so as soon as they touched down, she unbuckled, grabbed her duffel bag and hopped out. Her boots hit the muddy ground with a squelch. She pulled down the sunglasses parked on top of her head and raised her arm to shield her face from the stinging wind kicked up by the still-revolving helicopter rotors.

This was the golf course where she and Nico were married. It looked far worse on the ground than it did from the air. The pristine green lawn with perfectly planned hills and flower beds was gone. Tree branches were everywhere, strewn about with random garbage.
This is the
least
damaged part of the island?
A crushing vise gripped her heart.
Is Nico alive?
She hadn't been able to get through to their house on Tumon Bay; the landlines and cell towers were out.

“Captain! You okay?”

Anna turned to see the pilot carrying a box. He tilted his head toward the rest of the cargo, which he had unloaded from the helicopter and set on the ground. How long had she been standing there? She looked toward the medical camp. Tents were set a hundred feet from where she stood, their dull beige forlorn against the calm blue sky.

Anna swung the duffel onto her back and looped the handles around her shoulders so she could carry it like a backpack. Her arms protested as she picked up a heavy box. It had been more than a month since her last deployment, and her muscles were a little out of shape.

She carried the box to a waiting staff member, then set down her bag and helped the pilot carry the rest of the boxes from the makeshift helipad. When they were down to the last box, the pilot stepped back into the cockpit and waved to her as he started the rotors.

The helicopter rose and disappeared from view. There was no way off the island now; she was stuck here. Again. The permanent ache in her heart gnawed at her.

Picking up the last box, she walked back to the bright-faced staffer. His crisp uniform, regulation lined badges and chipper hello told her it was his first deployment. She nodded to him and handed over the box.

“Where do I report?”

He pointed her to the medical command tent. She picked up her bag, then unzipped the outer pocket to remove her papers. As she entered the tent, her eye caught the big digital clock that hung from a wire. Forty-five hours and twenty-two minutes. That was how long ago the tsunami had struck. It was also the clock that would determine when she could leave. Around the time it struck a hundred and sixty-eight hours, the actively wounded would slow to a trickle, mostly limited to those hurt as a result of the rescue efforts. When the red digits ticked to three hundred and eighty-one hours, the rescue operation would be over and the focus would turn to recovering bodies. By then, plenty of relief organizations would crowd the small island with relief workers outnumbering the injured. She'd be replaced by social workers who would stay here for months to deal with the mental trauma that would haunt people for generations to come.

“Took you long enough to get here.”

She whirled to come face-to-face with a woman dressed in blue scrubs. Rear Admiral Linda Tucker was Anna's height, around five foot six, and had red hair streaked in spots to faded copper. Her face sagged with exhaustion but her gray eyes sparked as she surveyed Anna.

The Public Health Service was a uniformed division but worked more like a health care service than a military unit, so Anna didn't salute and was happy to note that her new supervisor was wearing scrubs. Some PHS field commanders insisted they wear their uniforms, which inevitably made the days uncomfortable. Yet despite this concession, she knew Linda Tucker's reputation and braced herself.

“I got here as soon as I could,” she replied evenly.

“I expected you yesterday.”

Anna had flown from Washington, DC—where she'd been visiting with her sister Caro—to Japan, where she had to wait for the long-haul military transport helicopter to bring her to Guam. She'd been traveling for twenty-three hours and fifty-three minutes straight.

Shrugging, she settled for a nonchalant “I was delayed.” What she didn't say was that she'd come close to being discharged from the PHS for defying orders to board the first transport to Guam. It had taken a call from the surgeon general's assistant with a plea from the SG himself to get her on board. She was the only PHS officer who spoke Chamorro.

“Well, get changed and meet me back here. We have a lot to do.” Dr. Tucker turned and bent over the newly arrived cardboard boxes, efficiently slicing through the tape. Anna handed her papers to the clerk, a young man with a pockmarked face who looked pained to be there.

Anna scanned the tent while the clerk typed her details into the computer. The tent looked like every other medical command center she'd seen. Every available inch of space was being put to use. Corners were stacked with cardboard supply boxes, and the center was dominated by U-shaped desks cluttered with laptops and assorted materials. A large fan blew in fresh air from a makeshift window, but the heat was still oppressive. She ran her finger under her collar and twisted her neck, trying to get some air between her sticky skin and the wilted cloth of her once-starched khaki uniform. She scanned the faces in the room but quickly stopped and chided herself
. Why would he be here?
Nico would be out in the community, helping people defy the odds of survival.
If he's alive.
Closing her eyes,
Anna took a breath. She'd have to go to the house in Tumon Bay to check on him, find out for sure. From what she'd seen in the air, the roads weren't passable by car, so she'd have to walk the five miles there. At her typical walking speed, she could do it in an hour and fifteen minutes, but given the condition of the terrain, she figured she'd have to budget at least four hours to get there and back.

“I'll show you to your tent. That way you can get changed while I process your paperwork,” the clerk said suddenly. Anna turned to see Dr. Tucker motioning to him to hurry things up.

“I need you to get to work.” She bent over the boxes again before Anna could ask when she might be able to go check on Nico.

Anna followed the fast-walking clerk out of the tent and down a narrow pathway. No matter where she went, the sounds of the aftermath of a disaster were always the same. Moans of people in pain, shuffling of fast-paced boots, the random sounds of generators and battery-powered machines, the smell of wet earth and the incessant buzzing of insects.

Nico has to be okay. I'd know if he wasn't. Wouldn't I?

The clerk led her to the tiny tent that would be her living quarters. She groaned inwardly at the paper sign in the plastic sleeve on the door flap indicating she would be sharing the tent with Linda Tucker. So she wasn't going to get a reprieve on this deployment.

She changed quickly and found Linda waiting for her outside the tent. Linda motioned for her to follow. “We don't have enough wound-care supplies or topical and IV antibiotics, so we need to ration them. I understand this isn't your first deployment?”

“No, ma'am, I've been through twenty deployments in five years. My last one was in Brazil for the Zika virus after I returned from Liberia, where I was dealing with the Ebola outbreak.”

The rear admiral's eyes widened with respect. “Good, then I don't have to orient you.” She continued her brisk pace, weaving through the narrow gaps between tents, dodging pieces of machinery and carts carrying supply boxes from one tent to another.

“The locals are just now mobilizing, so we get about ten new patients an hour. Tent space is at a premium. Anyone who doesn't need to be monitored gets sent to the high school, mall or the hospital, where they've set up shelters.”

Anna's throat closed. “Is the hospital operational?” she choked out. The last time she'd been at the Guam General hospital, she'd lost everything she ever loved. She hadn't used her pediatrics training since then, staying as far away from children as she could.

Linda shook her head. “Not as a medical facility, but the building is still standing, so they're using the space to house people.” Linda slowed and turned to make sure Anna had heard her.

“A local stopped by a few hours ago to say someone's managed to set up a field hospital in one of the newer buildings. A local physician is helping them, but they have over a hundred people there. If we get through our current patients, I'd like you to go. They can't get those patients to this side of the island.”

Anna nodded. It would give her a chance to go to Nico's house, her old house, and make sure he was okay. “Did they tell you where on the island?”

“Talofofo. It's on the Pacific side, so I'm not sure how well it fared.”

A brick fell through Anna's stomach.
Talofofo.
That was where Nico had bought land. Right after they'd buried Lucas, the piece of herself that would forever be in Guam. Nico had tried to convince her it was the way to heal, a desperate attempt to get her to stay. What happened to his plans?
Had they washed away like the rest of their life together?

“Dr. Tucker, I have a request.” Before she could continue, Linda stopped abruptly and Anna almost bumped into her. One of the patients had come out of a tent screaming at her.

“I'm going to die!” A man scarcely over five feet tall stood in front of Linda, his chest puffed out.

“Sir!” Linda's voice was firm and laced with annoyance. “I've told you already—you're not getting pain medication, so stop the racket.”

Linda turned to her. “He's yours. Sixty-some-year-old male, leg laceration, five stitches, prior undiagnosed first-degree heart block. He's been having arrhythmias, which is why he's still here. Not even close to the worst of the wounded.”

Anna took in the broad, wrinkled forehead, the firm purse of the man's lips, the gray in his hair and the slight stoop to his back. He was an elder, a man used to getting what he wanted. She stepped up to him and bowed slightly, making her frame smaller so she wouldn't tower over him, then spoke softly in Chammoro. “We don't have supplies, the hospital is damaged, we're saving the pills for people who are badly hurt.”

The patient nodded, thanked her, then went back to the tent.

Linda shook her head. “He speaks English. I heard him talking to the others. These people!”

Anna bristled. “He needed to know that you weren't making a judgment call in denying him pills. People here understand shortages and rationing...” She muttered under her breath, “They understand it all too well.”

Linda pressed her lips together tightly, and Anna reminded herself that the woman was a superior officer. While Anna wasn't interested in climbing the career ladder, she had to work and live with Linda for the foreseeable future, and she still had to ask her for a favor.

“He should be grateful we're here to help him,” Linda said irritably. “But I'm glad you speak Chamorro. Follow me—I think I'll put you in this tent.”

Anna opened her mouth, then shut it. Linda had already resumed her purposeful walk
.
Most of the doctors she worked with didn't appreciate the local cultures. They were adrenaline junkies who came into deployment to feed their hero complexes and left with little understanding of the place. They were dispassionate about the very people they supposedly came to serve. While people like Linda annoyed her, at some level she understood the need for emotional distance from the patients they were serving. She had come to Guam and ingrained herself in the people and the community. If she'd treated her time here for what it was, a temporary medical rotation, she never would have married Nico, never would have had Lucas.

Linda went through the open doorway of one of the tents, talking as she went. Anna pushed her attention to Linda. She needed to stop thinking about her past and snap into the present. This could be Liberia or Sri Lanka or Thailand. The tents all looked the same; the misery around her was no different.
Pretend you're not in Guam.

“...but I need someone who has a background in pediatrics,” Linda was saying. The sound of crying babies and high-pitched little voices made Anna freeze. Filled wall to wall with children of all ages, the tent suddenly spun around her. Older children were sitting on cots; younger ones played and crawled around on the dirt floor. Mothers held tiny babies and stared at her as she took it all in. She shivered. The flash of a sweet face burned her eyes, and she jolted at the memory of a cold little body in her arms.
No. No, no, no, no!