Jessica smiled warmly and nodded. “Hello, Senator. Good to see you as well.”
She couldn’t stop the fluttering playing havoc with the pit of her stomach, as she gazed up at him. He was even more striking in the bright light of day. The color of his eyes were magnetizing and she forced herself to look away, as she pointed in the direction of an empty chair.
“Please, have a seat.”
“I will,” he acknowledged, “if you promise to call me Bryan when we’re not out in the public eye.”
Like a gentleman, he pulled out the chair Florence had been occupying, but she waved the action off.
“Sit dear.”
Clora entered, just as he took a seat to Jessica’s right, and nodded his thanks, when she handed him a glass of iced tea.
Florence nodded and continued. “If you two young souls will excuse me, I think I’ll go change.”
Bryan attempted to rise, but Florence placed her hand upon his shoulder, to stop him.
“Please don’t change on my account, Florence.”
“Hush now.” Florence replied. “I’m getting a little stiff and need to work the kinks out. I’ll be back down shortly. Enjoy this beautiful Autumn day,” she answered and quickly departed.
His face took on a more serious look, as he gazed at her, and Jessica had an idea where the conversation would turn. She stopped him before he got a change to speak.
“You don’t need to say anything, Bryan. It wasn’t your fault, that your fiancé had too much to drink last night. Really, it’s alright.”
He plainly did not agree, as he replied in an adamant tone.
“Well, it’s not and; we’re no longer a couple.”
It was no surprise to hear that, after what she witnessed, once she left the both of them. She didn’t want him to know that though and replied accordingly.
“Oh, Bryan. I truly am sorry to hear that.”
He shook his head, as though the decision did not weigh heavily on his mind.
“Don’t. I made a grave error in judgement. She wasn’t the woman I thought she was.”
Jessica scrunched her lips to the side. “I certainly can understand that.”
His brows furrowed, as he gazed at her. “How so?”
She waved her hand like a warning signal at a train crossing. “Oh, that’s a story for another time, truly. Just know, my feelings were far from hurt. I hope you don’t think less of me, when I confide, that I rather enjoyed the exchange.”
She could see a chuckle begin to bubble up inside of him, until it escaped.
“You really slapped her down too. I rather enjoyed it myself.”
Jessica couldn’t contain her own giggles and together they enjoyed the moment of mirth, before attempting to contain themselves.
“Well, with that being said,” he paused briefly, “I called upon her this morning to officially break off the engagement and learned that she had left the country on a holiday.” He snapped his fingers in the air. “Just like that. Of course, she’s avoiding the inevitable but, as far as I’m concerned, it’s over.”
“All for the better, I suppose.”
He nodded slowly. “Yes, all for the better. Jessica, another reason why I wanted to talk to you, is to let you know your official start date won’t be until Wednesday.”
She tried not to let the disappoint register on her face.
“Oh! You won’t be in town, until then?”
He took a hearty sip from his tea, before answering.
“Quite the opposite. I spoke with Marcus Wainright this morning. He’s head of the Senate’s Journal Clerk’s Office. He knows the ins and outs of the legislative process better than the Member’s themselves. I thought his instructions would help your transition more smoothly. Marcus will work with you for a few days to explain that process, the breakdown of committees and their realm of responsibility. First thing Wednesday morning at 9 a.m. you’ll meet with Senate Personnel to process your paperwork for payroll and insurance coverage. I have a staff meeting set for ten, then you and I will meet for an hour to go over my agenda and will most probably work through lunch, which I’ll have ordered in. How does that sound?”
“I, so, can’t wait.” She replied.
His hearty laughter warmed her insides to a toasty melt down. The dimple to the right of those luscious lips of his was more pronounced than she had remembered.
Please dear Lord, she quietly prayed. Don’t let me disappoint this man. Bless me with the knowledge and intuitiveness to do him proud. Please. Please. Please.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Sylas Corbat was driven close to the edge of venting his pent-up frustration and wrath for anyone, who got in his way.
The air in the courtroom, one would say, was so tense, you could slice through it with a knife. Sylas knew the bastards sitting in the jury box, would find his brother, Luther, guilty of murder. His brother’s lawyer had told him just that morning, that a conviction was inevitable and there would be no chance for acquittal.
Luther, was by far meaner and crazier than him. The asshole purposely aimed, shot, and killed those people and that rookie cop, after Luther robbed that grocery store at gunpoint. The god-damned fool never even used a mask to hide his identity, Sylas thought. As much as he hated cops himself, he wouldn’t had gone that far.
The judge’s pounding of his gavel, aroused Sylas from his musings.
“Mr. Foreman, has the jury reached a verdict,” Judge Atkins questioned with authority.
“Yes, your Honor, we have,” stated a lanky, thin-lipped foreman.
“And, what is the decision based on the facts brought forth in this trial against the defendant.”
The foreman nervously cleared his throat and brushed the sweat from his brow with a swift swipe of the back of his hand.
“We, the jury, find the defendant, Luther Samuel Corbat, guilty of robbery in the first degree your Honor.”
“And on the second count of murder in the first degree?” The judge pursued.
“Guilty, your Honor.”
The courtroom disrupted into pandemonium, as the victim’s grieving families broke into tears. Those, who sat in witness from the beginning of the trial, until the trial’s conclusion, stood and cheered their approval. The Judge’s gavel thundered continuously, as it struck home time and again, demanding silence.
“Order! Order! There will be order in this courtroom,” the Judge howled. “I will clear this courtroom of everyone, do you hear me?” The Judge’s countenance was severe, making the courtroom come to some sense of order. He waited momentarily, until not a whisper could be heard. “Will the defendant please rise?”
Sylas’ brother wasn’t as accommodating. Stoically, he sat there, staring ahead like a lifeless figure, his eyes leering devilishly.
“Don’t play me, Mr. Corbat,” Judge Atkins warned. “You can either rise under your own power, or by God, I’ll have the officers of this court suspend you from this ceiling.” The coldness of his tone and the steely anger reflected in his eyes, was enough to convince anyone of his intention.
Sylas knew his brother’s sentencing would not go in his favor. He never played his cards right throughout the entire hearing. His brother had belted one of the guards, breaking the man’s nose, he infuriated the Judge with his foul outbursts, and continuously knocked his lawyer for a loop, until he was shackled forcibly. Each act of violence, simply added another nail to his coffin. His brother was born mean, with a heart that pumped ice through his veins.
Sylas knew he wasn’t an angel either. But, Christ, he wasn’t mad like Luther. He liked that people stayed clear of him, and knew most times than not, not to provoke him. He liked it that way.
His brother though, loved conflict, loved to provoke people into giving him a reason to end their lives. He hated school. He hated any kind of authority.
Sy, at least, made it past the ninth grade. He never killed no one … beat the shit out of many … but fuck, his brother was crazy.
He watched
as his brother finally rose.
“Luther Corbat, you have been found guilty by a jury of your peers. It has been the first time in the history of my court, that such a decision has been made so quickly and accepted by me, as a fair one. In any other circumstance, sir, I would have deemed such a quick decision as unjust. In only honesty, I cannot. The evidence against you is airtight, and due to your outright admission of guilt, I have no other recourse, but to sentence you accordingly. Do you have anything to say to the court, Mr. Corbat, before I pass judgement on you.”
Dead silence prevailed over the small room. All whispering and hushed conversations muted. Each person hung on the words they expected the now convicted killer to speak. They had no idea what was to come.
Corbat turned ever-so-slightly and sneered at those sitting behind him. Most gasped and hunkered down lower in their chairs, cowering under his satanic glare. Spittle ran from the corners of lips, as his long, greasy and disheveled locks swayed from his constant nodding, and his eyes glassy reflected his rancor and void of remorse.
Sylas almost expected horns to start breaking through the top of his brother’s crown, as he too, looked on.
The Judge broke in. “Apparently, you have nothing to share, Mr. Corbat.”
Sylas’ brother ignored the judge and turned to glare at the jury. Even though his hands were shackled behind him, as were his ankles, the men and women still flinched in their seats and a few of them gasped in shock.
Luther looked back at the Judge and answered with a hiss to his deep, raspy voice.
“Fuck all you sons of bitches. I killed them and won’t grovel to no one. Finish what you got to say, so I can get the fuck out of here!”
The Judge rebuffed his outburst.
“God have mercy on your soul, Luther Corbat. Your evil past has finally caught up with you. Your final act of violence sir, will prove the death of you. Under the only remaining portion of this State’s death penalty statute, I sentence you to death by lethal injection. I only hope the leaders of our State successfully pass this law soon, so the decent people of this State will get some satisfaction in knowing, that justice is carried out.
In the meantime, sir, you will spend your days on death row. You will never again enjoy the sunshine for any extended length of time, nor will you enjoy the comforts of home, or socializing with decent, honest people. You will serve your term behind bars at Fishkill State Prison, until that time you’re put to death. It is my hope, that this sentence, brings some sense of comfort to those people you have caused severe harm and sadness too during your lifetime.”
With those words spoken, the Judge’s gavel struck one last time. “This court is dismissed.”
Sylas stood and felt no deep loss for his brother. He pitied the bastard for losing his freedom and getting caught. He knew his brother would go mad locked up. He hated that he’d be used as an example for those pricks to make that bill a law. He hated that their family name would be tied to it as well. People would look at him like he was scum of the earth for his brother’s mistake. He turned, after watching his brother being led out of the courtroom. He heard someone call out the name Senator Gallagher and spun about quickly.
His gaze zeroed in on a well-dressed man standing to the back of the room. He saw him in the courtroom during the trial many times and on the news. He was the prick associated with that death bill, always talking himself up to wipe all killers off the face of the Earth.
Yah, that was the guy, he surmised quietly.
He watched as the families gathered around him. He hated men like him, who thought they were all else.
He exited the courtroom and was immediately approached by a well-dressed man he never saw before.
The guy extended his hand in greeting, but Sylas just looked at it like it was a foreign object.
“What the fuck do you want?”
The guy snickered at him and the urge to punch him in the mouth, was almost too hard to ignore. He looked around quickly, noting security and cops in the corridors.
“Your Corbat’s brother, aren’t you?”
“What business is it of yours?” Sylas shot back.
“There isn’t anything you can do for him, I’m afraid. There’s a lot I can do for you. Care to listen?”
CHAPTER NINE
Jessica didn’t know what was jumping around inside her belly, but it certainly nauseated the heck out of her. She had nervous jitters before, but nothing like this. Her meetings with Marcus had gone exceptionally well over the last couple of days. She was now officially hired, per the Senate Personnel Director, as she exited her office.
The building housing the members of both houses of the New York State Legislature was rather impressive. She was told the walls and floors were constructed of imported white marble that had been shipped in from Vermont and Georgia. As she glided her hands along their cool surface, she knew she was going to love working here.
As she headed toward the elevator, she tried to memorialize this moment in her mind. This was the beginning of yet another chapter in her new life. She blew out a deep breath and depressed the up button for the elevator on the wall in front of her. Almost immediately, the steel doors whooshed open and she entered, smiling at its occupants and moved to the side to press the button for the sixth floor.
The conversation going on behind her surprisingly sounded familiar as two gentlemen in their early twenties were discussing the probability of their boss’s minimum wage bill making it out of the Labor Committee.
“The Assembly already passed theirs.” One gentleman offered. “We’ve got a majority vote already. All we need now is, for Hinkley to allow a floor vote and we’re golden.”
“Yah,” his companion replied, “when pigs fly.”
There was a light chuckle behind her, which made her think it was a sentiment frequently shared around here.
The bell dinged for the sixth floor and she was the only one exiting the elevator. She took a moment to get her bearings, noticing the sign on the wall to her right showing an arrow for room numbers 600 – 615. She took two deep cleansing breaths to try and calm her still nervous stomach and moved forward. The corridor was a bustle with people in all shapes and sizes. Each legislative office she passed hummed with activity from ringing phones, mixed conversations, laughter, the hum of fax machines, and more.
The door to room 612 was closed. When she reached for the door knob, it instantly swung inward, startling her. She nearly collided with a rotund gentleman, blocking her way, who was still chatting with a young receptionist, and did not realize Jessica was there.
Jessica’s yelp of surprise drew his attention, and he stepped to the side allowing her to enter.
The young receptionist’s reaction seemed somewhat perplexing, when she looked her way, and Jessica couldn’t imagine why.
“Sorry. Excuse me,” Jessica sputtered, as she passed around the man and found herself facing, a taller, stately woman, exiting from another back room. She, too, seemed disconcerted by Jessica’s presence, leaving Jessica to wonder whether r being there was not welcomed.
Jessica quickly extended her hand in greeting and introduced herself.
“Good morning. I’m Jessica Wilton and; I was …”
The woman let out a breath, as though she was greatly relieved, glanced quickly at the receptionist and then back at Jessica.
Something clearly had just happened between the two women, and Jessica couldn’t imagine what the hell it could have been. She didn’t have time to question their odd behavior, as the woman quickly stepped forward and wrapped a protective arm about her shoulder.
“Welcome, welcome, Jessica to your home away from home. I’m Claire Martin, Senator Gallagher’s, Office Manager.” She nodded to the cute receptionist at the front door. “Over there is Missy Sanchez our receptionist and she backs up with secretarial support as well.”
Missy nodded happily and offered. “We’re excited to have you on board, Mrs. Wilton. Please feel free to ask me anything, oka
y? Would you like a refreshment?”
Jessica shook her head no and replied.
“Thank you for the kindness, Missy, but I’ll pass. I’m sure I’ll have questions aplenty, and please, call me Jessica.”
Missy smiled and then answered a line that began to ring.
Claire redirected her back through the doorway she had just exited and explained as they continued walking.
“The Senator was called away, but will be back in time for your meeting with him at eleven. In the meantime, let me show you around and introduce you to the rest of the staff. You can meet with them all indirectly.
Jessica placed herself in Claire’s capable hands, feeling extremely welcomed in her warm and nurturing presence.
She was introduced to Maggie McIntyre, an attractive black woman, who was in her fifth month of pregnancy and acted as Senior Secretary, Zachary Lyons their Legislative Aide, Nicholas Holson, a State University student and Session Intern, and lastly, Connor Taylor, Acting Counsel. The support staff shared one large room, divided into cubicles with tall sound panels, that afforded them some privacy. She and Connor had their own private office, large enough to occupy their desk and chair, a book case, and two visitor’s chairs. Her office, shared a connecting door with Bryan’s.
She spent mainly twenty minutes with Claire, Zachary, and Connor, learning the aspects of each of their jobs and how they would interact together.
Connor was a jokester, and she loved his wit and relaxed manner. She wasn’t surprised to learn that he and Bryan were lifelong friends, had attended the same University together, and planned on acting as his Counsel throughout his political career. Besides her own duties, she would be working with him closely, writing memos in opposition and support to the legislation he would draft for Bryan, fill in for Bryan and meet with constituent groups and lobbyists, and be Bryan’s eyes and ears on the Codes Committee, that he Chaired.
Jessica decided to take a quick break, before Bryan returned to the office and asked Missy where the nearest ladies room was. The Legislature was in session now, and things would be quiet for a while. When she exited the office, she was surprised to see the hallway empty. She gazed to her right, and all the office doors were closed.
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