Dissident (The Bellator Saga Book 1)

by Cecilia London

  “Not that many,” Caroline said. “Maybe The Hill or Politico, but not much beyond that. Roll Call and CQ for practical matters. Although I’ve been known to sneak a peek at Wonkette every now and then for my daily dose of snark.”

  “I see. Those are all relatively legitimate sources of information.”

  Caroline laughed. Maybe he didn’t know what Wonkette was. “I don’t like purely partisan sites. I’d rather make my judgments myself based on personal observations.”

  Jack relaxed. “I knew there was a reason I loved you so much. So, if you were visiting The Hill this week, did you notice all that praise you received for that bipartisan piece of legislation you authored?”

  “You mean the capital gains bill?”

  “Yes.” Jack gave her an impish look. “You’re finally embracing Reaganomics, I see. Just a few decades late.”

  He was poking fun at her, and Caroline bit his earlobe in return. “I am not. It’s common sense, which shouldn’t be partisan. Give middle class people a tax break on investments and they’ll invest more. Or at least be more willing to consider it. Upper class folks don’t need that incentive.”

  “I may sign on as a co-sponsor. Would that make you happy?”

  “Extremely. Might even get you laid.”

  “I don’t need to co-sponsor bills for that, do I?”

  She ran her hands through his hair. “What do you think?”

  “It’s a good bill. I’m sure it will pass through both chambers rather easily.”

  “I’m not sure the president will sign it.”

  “Have you been lobbying him on it?”

  “Not really. If he wants to talk to me, I’ll listen. But if he wants to get the economy going again he has to try something other than the same old tired methods.”

  “I get the feeling you’re not pleased with his job performance thus far.”

  “I’m not. He cultivated all this goodwill before being sworn in and he’s blown it.”

  Jack gave her a wry grin. “You’re not just saying that because you’ve been unable to cultivate the same goodwill after your keynote speech, right?”

  Caroline frowned again. “It’s funny how being a giant bitch made me really popular with the DNC, and when I calmed down a little and started being nice again, they drifted away.” She rubbed her temples. Mulling over party politics gave her a headache. “But I don’t mind. I hate all that bullshit. Makes my life a lot easier, actually.”

  It hadn’t taken long for Caroline to tire of the routine after the convention the previous fall. She had to be away from her children, make speeches she didn’t feel comfortable making, do all the things she swore she’d never do. She vowed not to be that kind of politician and had come close to crossing the boundary and never being able to go back. She remained eternally grateful that Christine called her out after that first round of endorsements. Caroline would never be able to quietly fade back into the woodwork again, but she was still doing her best to repair the damage she caused.

  “At least Langlade is speaking to you again,” Jack said.

  She scowled. “Yes. I spent hours hoping that relationship would be reignited.”

  Jack laughed. “Caroline, why are you a Democrat?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re close personal friends with the Speaker of the House,” he said. “A Republican, I might add.”

  “I am aware of his party affiliation.”

  “Your best friend is one of the most conservative women in Congress.”

  “I am also aware of that.”

  “And you’re dating me.”

  “Against my better judgment,” Caroline said, smiling.

  “So, what gives? Are you a closet GOPer? It’s okay to admit it, sweetheart. We’ll accept you.”

  “It will be a cold day in hell before I join the Republican Party. Nothing personal,” she added.

  Jack feigned shock. “Such strong language. You’re a little defensive, Caroline. Come to the dark side. You know you want to.”

  “Why should I? My side has lemon meringue pie.”

  “Only because you’re the one who makes it.”

  “I can imagine how much the Republican Party would enjoy an outspoken liberal woman who provides them with phenomenal baked goods. There’s a slogan in there somewhere.”

  “You’re not as liberal as you think you are.”

  “I know. But I prefer to reclaim the language instead of abandoning it. ‘Liberal’ isn’t a dirty word.”

  “It isn’t. And neither is ‘conservative.’”

  “Too bad the extremes control so much of the debate. I’m mostly a Democrat because our crazies are a bit less crazy than yours. Nothing exists in a vacuum. I don’t think a lot of your fellow Republicans understand that.”

  “A lot of your fellow Democrats don’t understand it, either.”

  Caroline blew out a harsh breath. “It’s maddening. I ran as a Democrat because I more closely identified with their platform. Which isn’t saying much because I still have some major concerns about it.”

  “You’re a social libertarian and an economic moderate. You could have gone either way.”

  “Maybe. The Democratic establishment hated me when I first ran for office but I joined the party anyway. The lack of open-mindedness on both sides frustrates me. To say nothing of the lack of respect and compassion for one another as human beings.”

  “Is that why you’re so desperate to reach across the aisle?”

  “Yes. Because I know there are many others who feel the same way.”

  Jack wrapped his arms tighter around her. “You do good work, sweetheart. I hope you know that.”

  Caroline ruffled his hair. “You’re full of compliments tonight. Since we’re talking party affiliation, why are you a Republican?”

  “Because I’m a rich bastard who hates women and minorities?”

  She laughed. “Seriously.”

  “Oh, and the gays. I hate them too. Except for Katie, of course.”

  “I’ll give her your kindest personal not even slightly homophobic regards.”

  “Don’t even get me started on the poors.”

  “Now you sound like you’ve been reading too many liberal memes. Have you been reading liberal memes, Representative McIntyre?”

  “I like to think of myself as a Rockefeller Republican.”

  “In other words, a moderate Democrat.”

  “Not really. I’ve got some conservative ideas on social issues, particularly as it pertains to the government’s obligation to fund certain programs.”

  “But you still believe in their objective goodness.”

  “Perhaps. But my private beliefs as a Catholic don’t always comport with my public policy positions. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  “I should have never told you how I really feel about abortion. Does that make me a hypocrite?”

  “Your opinion is probably similar to those of most other Americans. You’re a pragmatist, not a hypocrite.”

  “If you say so.”

  Jack kissed her forehead. “You strive to do the right thing for the right reasons. I hope I’m the same way. But part of my party affiliation is selfish. Republicans are consistently in favor of lower taxes and you know how much I love my money.”

  “You do a lot of good with it, too. Maybe you should give that more play.”

  “I see no need to do that.”

  “You just don’t want people to know what a good man you are.”

  “You know, and that’s all that matters.”

  They sat at the table with Caroline resting her head on his shoulder, until she broke the silence.

  “Let’s talk about fun stuff,” she said.

  “Like what?”

  “Tell me something random about you.”

  “I hate clowns.”

  Caroline started laughing.

  “It’s not funny,” Jack said. “They’re creepy little bastards.”

  She tried to contain he
r giggles.

  “Really, Caroline. I open myself up to you and this is how you respond.”

  “No, I just…that’s good to know.” Caroline took a deep breath, letting out one final chuckle. “I find that tremendously reassuring.”

  “You don’t like clowns?”

  “Hell no.”

  Jack smiled. “Good. I knew you were smart. So what about you?”

  “I graduated from college in three years.”

  “Really?”

  “I earned a ton of AP credits in high school. I tried to complete a second major but I wanted to start law school as soon as I could, so I gave that idea up.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  “Well,” Caroline said. “Thanks. I skipped the fifth grade too.”

  “Look at you, child prodigy.”

  “I test really well.”

  “Now I know where Marguerite gets it from.”

  “Maybe. Her father was no slouch.”

  “I’m sure he wasn’t,” Jack said. “How old were you when you graduated from college?”

  “Nineteen. I have a late birthday.”

  “Just a baby.” Jack grinned. “I thought standardized tests were biased against females.”

  “Not against me.” Caroline laughed. “All of this is on my Wikipedia page. I guess you haven’t been hanging out there.”

  “No. I haven’t. Anything else interesting on it?”

  “Not really. Although Katie edits it constantly, and usually throws something highly obnoxious on there for fun.”

  “Like what?”

  “Oh, once she put something out there about my pet chihuahua Tiddlywinks, who had his own tiny wardrobe. I had a custom made purse so I could carry him onto the House floor. He never missed a vote. And he was always spectacularly dressed. I reluctantly let him go after he married another chihuahua in an intimate ceremony at the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception.”

  “Is any of that true?”

  Caroline decided to leave out the part about how the dog’s closet was bigger than hers. “You really think the Catholic Church would agree to marry a pair of chihuahuas?”

  Jack was trying not to laugh. He enjoyed giving her a hard time. “You never know.”

  “Katie has a rare gift. Most of that page is filled with dirty, dirty lies.”

  “And yet you haven’t fired her.”

  God forbid. Katie was irreplaceable. For all their joking, her press secretary was very good at her job, which allowed for a lot of leeway when it came to her Wikipedia excursions. Sometimes Caroline helped her do the edits, if she was feeling particularly randy.

  “I’m a very forgiving boss,” she said.

  “I can see that. And now it’s your turn to ask me a question.”

  “Here’s an easy one. What’s your favorite movie?”

  Jack thought a moment. “True Grit, probably. What’s yours?”

  “Ah, a John Wayne man. I have a hard time picking a favorite movie. I have terrible taste, although I can sometimes be counted on when it comes to inane comedies and movie musicals. And I adore the classics. Bette Davis, Kate Hepburn, Clark Gable, Cary Grant, Spencer Tracy. Love them all.”

  “Those are all wonderful Golden Age actors.”

  “The Philadelphia Story is probably my favorite Hepburn movie, but have you seen State of the Union? It’s a lesser known Capra film with Tracy and Hepburn. Angela Lansbury gives an incredible supporting performance. Maybe even better than the role she had in The Manchurian Candidate.”

  “I’ve never seen it. Maybe we should watch it.”

  “I have a lot of old movies in my library. If they float your boat.”

  “You are such a cultured woman.”

  “Please tell me you like The Sound of Music. If you don’t agree that Julie Andrews is a national treasure I’ll probably have to break up with you.”

  “I hope you don’t have some sort of Captain von Trapp fantasy.”

  “Christopher Plummer is incredibly attractive in that movie. And you do remind me a little of him. Without the whistle.”

  He kissed her cheek. “Anything else? Maybe some other light fluff?”

  “Not really. I never put much stock in happy endings.”

  Jack looked surprised. “But you like musicals.”

  “I do. They’re glorious examples of the human spirit. But they’re not entirely realistic. Life is so much more complicated than that.”

  He smoothed his hand through her hair. “You’re such an enigma sometimes. I often wonder what it’s like inside that byzantine head of yours.”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “I want to know everything about you.” He smiled when Caroline blushed. “You’re adorable.”

  “I think you say things like that on purpose.”

  “Of course I do. Why do you get to have more than one favorite?”

  “I have a hard time limiting myself. Oh, I can’t believe I forgot this one. I will always watch The Parent Trap if it’s on TV.”

  “Maureen O’Hara. Nice.” Jack closed his eyes. “I take back what I said before. The Quiet Man is definitely my favorite movie.”

  “Maureen O’Hara is pretty hot,” Caroline said. “I would kill for her hair.”

  Jack reflexively ran his fingers through her hair. “You have it, sweetheart.”

  “No, it’s more brown than red, especially in winter.”

  “Looks gorgeous to me regardless. And while I’m thinking about it, I prefer when you wear it down.”

  “You don’t like my little French twists?” Caroline asked.

  “Those are sexy as hell but I like being able to tug on your hair when I’m kissing you. Or doing other unseemly things.”

  “Mmm, like what?”

  “Depends. Are you going to be here in the morning?”

  A constant theme on the nights they spent together. “We’ve talked about that, Jack. I can’t stay overnight when Congress is in session.”

  “You spend the night when we’re in Philadelphia. What difference does it make what city we’re in? Hell, it makes sense.” Jack ran his tongue up her neck. “My driver could take you to work in the mornings and he could make sure we always got caught in traffic.”

  Caroline gripped his shirt, responding to his touch. Jack began to trail kisses over her jawbone, wrecking her concentration.

  “I’m trying to set boundaries, Monty. You aren’t making it easy.”

  “You want to stay here.”

  She did. More than anything. “I also have my own home.”

  “You wanted us to stop sneaking around, be more open about things. That’s what I’m trying to do.”

  “It doesn’t mean we have to accelerate the pace. It’s so early. Let’s not push our luck.”

  Jack stopped what he was doing. “Do you think I’m moving too fast?”

  Caroline had this nagging fear in the back of her head that something was going to come along and spoil this. She’d only come close to having true happiness once, with Nicky. She knew the odds were long that it would ever happen again. But she didn’t want to tell Jack. He’d been trying so hard and he was doing everything right, yet she was convinced that there was something he was holding back. And she wasn’t about to give in yet. Not completely.

  “No. I just…I can’t stay.”

  “I wish you would,” Jack said. “My bed feels empty without you in it. The way you press your body up against mine, sighing softly in your sleep. Holding you all night. Being able to touch you in the morning when you first wake up. I want to be the first thing you see every day.”

  “Don’t say things like that,” Caroline whispered.

  “Why not?”

  “Jack, we can’t take that step. Not yet.”

  “We love each other. We want to be with each other. And I maybe get a few hours with you a day. It bothers me that I don’t get more. I don’t see the harm in you spending the rest of your summer here.”

  “I can’t give you that right
now. I’m not ready.”

  “Does this have anything to do with your roommate?”

  Maybe she could sidestep. “We have to maintain some decorum. You and I both do.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  Of course he would notice. “I suppose I have incentive to behave with a little more politesse when my best friend is making comments about my sinful behavior.”

  “Does she really do that?”

  “I might be exaggerating a shade but it’s not like she hasn’t figured out what we’ve been doing.”

  “You’re thirty-six years old, Caroline. You can have sex any time you want without anyone judging you, least of all your friends.”

  She tousled his hair. “Even if it’s with a man who’s far too old for me?”

  “I’m only eleven years older than you. That’s hardly May-December.” Jack nuzzled Caroline’s neck again. “Maybe more Rich Uncle Sugar. Who is more than willing to buy you all sorts of luxurious gifts and guide you in the ways of love.”

  She moaned as he nipped at her earlobe. “You iniquitous man.”

  He pulled his head up for a moment. “Nice vocabulary, sweetheart. Is that how you were able to skip a grade and graduate early?”

  She grinned raffishly. “You should hear all the synonyms for sexual intercourse that I have cued up in my brain just waiting to come out.”

  Jack kissed her nose. “I’d love to hear them. Preferably when we’re naked.”

  “I like the sound of that. And cut Chrissy some slack. She’s just a little uptight.”

  “Christine is a bit of a killjoy, isn’t she?”

  Caroline laughed. “Yes. Yes, she is. But I love her anyway.”

  “Whenever I try to thank her for helping you out, she gets very quiet.”

  “She doesn’t like talking about it.”

  “When did she move in with you?”

  “About a month after it happened. She didn’t ask. She just did it. I think she knew I wasn’t going to say anything and she sure as hell wasn’t going to make a big deal over it. She knew I needed her.”

  “I like her. Tell her I said that. Christine can say she doesn’t like me but that isn’t going to stop me from being nice to her. I appreciate that she’s protective of you.”

  “Do you still think I need protecting, too?”

  “I’m quite certain of it. Treasures need to be guarded.”