by Patt Marr
She was so proud of him, she could shout.
“Bev, it’s time we found our table. Lovely to meet you, Sunny. See you tomorrow, Pete.” Pointedly ignoring the senator and his wife, they moved on.
Sunny heard her father mutter to an aide, “I thought Maguire was an out-of-work carpenter.”
Pete retrieved the money from his breast pocket and stuck it in her father’s hand. “I don’t think I’ll need this, Senator.”
Sunny beamed. “Still think you know everything you need to know, Daddy? Maybe you’d better update Pete’s file.”
It earned her the famous senatorial glare, but who cared? Pete offered her a discreet low-five, and she slid her hand through, smiling at him with her eyes.
Pete was so proud of his girl. She might look like her dad, but she was nothing like the old dinosaur.
“Well, Alexandra!”
Sunny’s mother. His hackles rose at the sound of Sunny’s formal name.
“Once again you’ve managed to be quite a disappointment.”
Sunny visibly flinched. The cruelty had caught her unaware. Socking a woman went against everything he’d been taught, but he felt like knocking Eleanor Keegan right on her fanny.
“At least I’m consistent,” his girl said, raising her chin.
“Consistently irresponsible,” her mother hissed. “When I sent Pierre and his people, I expected you to be there.”
“I told you I didn’t need them.”
“Didn’t need them?” Her mother looked Sunny up and down, contradicting the claim with a mouth pulled thin with disdain. “You’d cut off your nose to spite your own face.”
“Smile, Eleanor,” the senator murmured, joining them. “The photographers…”
As if she’d tripped a secret lever, the sweetest expression this side of heaven crossed the woman’s face. Incredible, Pete thought. Had she been born able to do that or merely practiced a lot?
“Your taste in clothes hasn’t improved.” Despite the angelic expression, the woman’s voice was dirt mean. “Sequins! Honestly, Alexandra. You look disgraceful.”
That was it. He’d had enough. “I have to disagree with you, Mrs. Keegan. Sunny looks beautiful. Any woman here would like to look half as good.”
The woman’s eyebrows rose. “Pff! What would a man like you know about appropriate dress?”
“About as much as any man, but I can recognize real beauty, the kind that comes from inside, the kind that lifts people up instead of cuts them down. Your daughter,” he said pointedly, “is a truly beautiful woman.”
Sunny wanted to cheer. Or weep. No one had ever stood up for her like this. First with her dad, now with her mother. If she hadn’t loved Pete before, she would now.
Her mother was nearly a foot shorter than Pete, yet she managed to look down her nose. “I suppose Alexandra’s garish appearance would appeal to a man like you, but what she sees in you, I can’t imagine.” With that, her mother stalked off.
Horrified, Sunny started after her. Her mother could treat her that way, but not Pete.
But he caught her arm and whispered, “Let it go. Don’t stoop to her level.”
Clive Price and her father’s bodyguards reappeared behind Pete. “All right, Maguire, this time you leave,” her father said. “Sunny, go to the stage right now and take your seat.”
“Daddy, you don’t want me up there. It would only make you and Bruce look foolish.”
“No such thing. Do as I say.”
“Please, listen to me. Pete and I fell in love on national television. This Wednesday, when our show is aired, the whole world will know it’s him I love, not Bruce.”
Her father’s smug smile refuted her claim. “I think you’ll find that episode of Dream Date has been canceled.”
Shock registered all the way to her toes. “How?”
“Bruce is taking care of it,” he said arrogantly.
“Sam!” Clive interrupted. “Two minutes.”
“Sunny, take your place or you’ll regret it.”
She didn’t see how.
“That’s enough, Senator,” Pete said softly, though his eyes begged for a fight.
“Stay out of this, Maguire, or I’ll see that building project of yours never gets off the ground.”
“Daddy!” She would not have him threaten Pete. “What do I have to do to make you listen? Write some horrible tell-all about the defection of your celebrity daughter? Is that what you want?”
“You would do that?” Rage glittered in her father’s eyes.
No, but it had gotten his attention. “I don’t want it to come to that. We’re family.”
“Your family includes Bruce,” he insisted doggedly.
She put her hand on his arm, appealing to the father she’d loved all her life, “I don’t mind if Bruce is special to you, Daddy, but I won’t be his wife.”
“You have to be. Why can’t you see that?”
It was like talking to a wall.
“You’re my daughter, Sunny. I want you beside me, beside Bruce. The country needs our family. When we care about our country, we put our own wishes aside and do the right thing.”
Do the right thing? Had all these years in politics deadened his conscience? Lying and cheating weren’t right. Condoning those that did—that’s what he’d have her do? It was hopeless. She and her parents would never see things alike.
“I shouldn’t have come,” she said. Rejection burned in her chest.
“Why did you come? Why even bother to show up if you’re not going to do your duty?”
Her duty? Oh, Daddy. “I’m here because Mother asked me to be and I love you,” she said, blinking back tears.
Her father looked hopelessly puzzled. “You would show your love by killing my dream?”
“But it’s your dream,” she said softly, “not mine.”
She could see he didn’t understand and never would.
“Let’s go,” she whispered to Pete.
Her father snagged her arm roughly. “No! We don’t burn our bridges, Sunny.”
“Take your hand off her, sir,” Pete insisted, “unless you want this to get physical. People do burn their bridges…when they don’t like where they’ve been and don’t want to go back.”
The way her father looked at Pete truly frightened her. Men with power like her father could do anything, not that Daddy would dirty his hands, but he knew people who would.
Before she could act, the room darkened and a spotlight searched the width and length of the ballroom. A voice intoned, “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our guest of honor, the people’s friend, Sen-a-tor Sammmmm Kee-gan!”
Applause thundered. Bleak defeat on his face, her father looked into her eyes once more. “We don’t always get what we want. But, this time, Sunshine, I guess you do.” Leaning forward, he placed a kiss on her forehead.
She grasped his hand, willing him to feel her love.
Stepping away, he turned, put a smile on his face and waved to the crowd. The spotlight found him, the band played his song and Senator Sam, the People’s Friend, strolled to his place on the dais. On his one side applauded his devoted, adoring wife. On the other, his chosen heir.
The heaviness in Sunny’s chest had nothing to do with the empty chair beside Bruce. She only grieved for what should have been, not for anything she’d ever really had.
The senator reached the dais, nodded to Bruce who looked into the wings and extended his hand to a pretty brunette who swiftly moved to that empty seat.
Pete squeezed her shoulder, and she clasped his hand. While the attention was still on the guest of honor, they slipped away and walked toward the foyer.
“Are you satisfied?” George called, coming up behind them as they neared the escalator. “Is this what you wanted?”
She sighed. “George, I’ve said over and over what I wanted.”
He nodded. “I know, and you’re feeling pretty sorry for yourself right now.”
That was a low blow.
“If you knew
the truth, you’d understand why Sam has pressed so hard, why Eleanor has been…well, the way she is.”
The truth? What now? George just didn’t give up.
“We’ve all been sworn to secrecy, but it’s going to come out in a few minutes anyway. I’d rather you heard it from me. Hon, your dad is seriously ill.”
She gasped. Please God, let this just be another ploy. Even if it was a wicked payback, she’d prefer it. “How seriously?” she asked.
“It’s Alzheimer’s, and Sam’s losing ground pretty fast. Tonight he’s going public with it. He’s stepping down from his senate seat and endorsing Bruce to fill it. It’s a perfect springboard for Bruce’s presidential bid.”
It would work. She could see that.
“You’ll never know how much he wanted you on that stage tonight,” George said, shaking his head sadly.
No, but she could imagine. How horribly frustrating for them that she hadn’t cooperated.
Emotion whirled around her—despair for her father’s condition, sadness that her mother would lose her companion and the reason for her existence, rebellion that they’d expected her to marry Bruce, guilt that she couldn’t fulfill their dream. The power of those emotions was a crushing weight.
“How long have they known about Daddy?” she asked, still trying to take it in.
“Privately, we’ve all wondered for some time. But just before Easter your dad went in for a checkup, and it became official.”
“‘Just before Easter,”’ she repeated. No wonder her mother had called and urged reconciliation. This explained her mother’s shrill desperation and her father’s urgent reminders of his love.
Tears slipped down her cheeks. Mother would need her like she never had, and Daddy would need to make things right with God while he still could. Lord help her, she’d be there for both of them.
Pete felt so bad for Sunny, he couldn’t think of a thing to say. He held her all the way to the car, already regretting the strong stand he’d taken with her dad.
How would this change things between them? She’d said she loved him. Even loving him, would she believe she had to follow her father’s last wishes? Would guilt drag her back to Bruce? Please, God, not that.
“Do you mind if we have the top down?” she asked when the valet attendant brought the car.
She could ask for the moon, and he’d want to provide it.
But she seemed to want nothing more than a ride in the soft night, the wind against their skin, its coolness dulling their senses, heading for nowhere, just away from where they’d been.
Minutes passed, and his stomach growled. Thinking about filling his belly seemed inappropriate, but food might do both of them good. Since they were all dressed up, he could take her someplace fancy, and he offered. But all Sunny wanted was a cheese-burger and a chance to get out of her sequins. That was fine with him.
They went through a drive-thru and picnicked on fast food in his car. On the way to her house, they joked quietly about christening his leather seats with sesame seeds and spilled fries.
At her place, she disappeared to change. He shucked out of the bow tie and jacket, loosened the buttons at the neck of his shirt, rolled up his sleeves and waited for her on the deck. When she reappeared, she wore a lavender T-shirt tucked into jeans and a sweet, sad look in her eyes.
Wishing he could ease that sadness, he said, “You are one gorgeous woman, Sunny Keegan.”
Shaking her head, disclaiming it, she said, “I’m not, but I loved it when you told Mother I was.”
Someday he’d insist she stop denying his compliments, but not tonight. Tonight was for cuddling, not lectures.
They swayed in her hammock, her head on his shoulder, their arms wrapped around each other. The light from her kitchen windows illuminated her face, and the love in her butternut eyes made him swallow hard.
“What was that ring you described to Lisa?” he asked.
“A three-carat marquis,” she said, smiling. “A diamond big enough to impress, but not so ostentatious it wouldn’t look real. Lisa would respect such a beautiful ring. Any woman would.”
“We’ll get one for you, a really pretty one.”
“You’re not going to get me a ring,” she protested. “It was just fun to see Lisa’s reaction.”
“But we’ll need a ring. I want you to marry me.”
She looked into his eyes, not saying a word. Please, God, don’t let her refuse me.
“I’d love to marry you…” she said softly
He heard the “but,” and chill dread crossed his heart.
“But…”
There it was. Lord, don’t let her turn me down.
“Not now. I’m afraid of what I’d be getting you into.”
That didn’t make a lick of sense. “If this is your way of letting me down easy, I’d rather you just came right out and said you don’t want to marry me.” His voice was gruff, but he couldn’t help it.
Sunny’s heart sank. She’d hurt him. But she couldn’t ask him to go through the trials ahead, dealing with her mother, her father, even Bruce and all the inevitable pressures from the media. How could they start a new life together in the midst of such turmoil?
Regardless of the past, she was determined to be the most loving daughter ever. They came as a package, all of them—Daddy, Mother, Bruce and now, even the new woman in Bruce’s life. It wasn’t something she would wish on an enemy, let alone the man she loved. How could she make him see that?
“If you can’t say it,” Pete said, his voice cracking, “I guess I understand.”
“But that’s not it!” she denied, stroking his brow. “I love you more than I knew a person could. But a marriage should be started in joy and happiness. You heard George. My life is going to be a mess for a long time. I can’t drag you into it.”
Pete closed his eyes and breathed a deep sigh of relief. That’s all it was? He hugged her close, willing her fears away. “Don’t you know I want to share your life, no matter what it’s like?” He lowered his mouth to hers, letting his kiss tell her how much he needed her, how much he would always love her.
And she returned his kiss in the sweet Sunny way he adored, holding nothing back, loving him for all she was worth. That was his girl, his strong, courageous sweetheart.
When he couldn’t take any more without wanting what they would save for marriage, he tucked her head back on his shoulder and held her tightly against him. Let her feel his heart race. Let her know what she meant to him.
“I know this girl,” he said, stroking her hair, “who’s a great one for trusting God.” He heard her quick intake of breath. “She’s a very lucky girl.”
His girl nodded against his chest.
“Not only does she have genuine angels who watch over her, but she has this ordinary guy who loves her so much, he tries to beat those angels to their jobs. I don’t think she has a thing to worry about.”
“You’re right,” she said, lifting her head sky-ward. “Lord, forgive me. I do trust You.”
Looking into the stars himself, he added, “Lord, both of us trust You. You’ve got the best seat in the house. You can see it all. We know we don’t have to figure this out on our own.”
His shirt felt wet. He knew women needed tears, but he’d never get used to them. Of course, Sunny could cry if she had to, but, please God, not any more tonight.
“I have an update on the story about the little red-haired princess,” he said, hoping to dry up those wretched tear ducts.
“You do, do you?” She sniffed, wiping her eyes.
“Uh-huh. You knew, of course, that the little redhaired girl grew up to be a beautiful princess—”
“Oh, Pete, not beautiful.”
“I’m telling the story. She grew up to be a very beautiful princess, and one day she kissed an ordinary guy who—”
“He wasn’t ordinary. Make him a handsome prince or the story’s over.”
Man, she was tough, but at least the tears had dried up. “The
princess kissed this prince who was extraordinarily handsome.” He checked to see if she was satisfied.
The big smile said she was.
“That kiss turned the prince’s life around, and he decided to give up his sorry life as a beach bum and build his princess a kingdom called…tat, tahhh… Sunny Valley!”
“Sunny Valley! Oh, Pete!” Tears welled in her eyes again.
Not that again. “The builder—” he said hurriedly.
“The prince,” she corrected.
“The prince,” he agreed, “drew up plans for nice family homes where kids could play with their dogs anytime they wanted and no kid’s best friend was the chauffeur.”
Smiling through her tears, she asked, “How many kids?”
“The prince thought the princess should have input on that.”
“I just wondered if the kids would have to share bedrooms or if they’d have their own.”
“Well, you see,” he said, ending the story because he couldn’t wait any longer to kiss his girl again, “one of the nice things about the prince being a builder is how easy it is to add on.”
“Mmm,” she replied, meeting his lips.
He guessed that meant she thought so, too. He couldn’t say for sure, not when he was lost in loving Sunny.
STEEPLE HILL BOOKS
ISBN: 978-1-4603-1155-4
ANGEL IN DISGUISE
Copyright © 2000 by Patt Marr
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All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Steeple Hill Books.