Cocky Senator's Daughter: Hannah Cocker (Cocker Brothers of Atlanta Book 8)

by Faleena Hopkins

  She shakes her head. “Nope.”

  I nod to him, “We’ll see you later, Carl.”

  Her twinkly voice echoes, “Good evening, Carl,” off marble walls.

  Holy fuck. Is it possible to love her already?

  I swear if anyone ever hurts her I’ll kill them.

  And that includes me.

  I better not mess this up.

  “It’s over here. We have to take an elevator. I live on the top floor.”

  Her observant green eyes soak in everything – the shiny elevator doors, the numbers lighting up, chandeliers above us, and me. She keeps looking at me. When the doors open she slowly walks on.

  “Push the button that says P.”

  I don’t even know if she can read.

  She walks to the keypad and pushes the right button.

  “Good job.”

  “Why is it a letter when all the rest are numbers?”

  “It stands for Penthouse.” As she waits for a better answer, I shrug. “When you have the finest money can buy, you want it known.”

  “Why?”

  “Because.”

  She blinks away to the doors and we ride in silence, both of us staring forward.

  Jaimie

  What the hell is that sound?

  Is that my alarm?!

  Do I have to be somewhere?

  No…I have nowhere to be.

  Oh run run run!! It’s my phone!

  I almost trip over my own legs. Oh bummer. Sigh. I don’t know why I thought it might be Justin calling, but I did and it’s not.

  “Hi Kate.”

  It’s almost dark outside.

  How long was I asleep?

  “Jaimie! Oh my God. Your boyfriend is all over the news. And I saw you on there! They filmed you and your father leaving. You looked stunned. Were you there during Justin’s speech? Did you see his daughter before he went out there? My God! I’m dying over here. What happened?!”

  “He showed up in a daze, looked at me then disappeared into the green room and came out carrying her. I thought she was a niece or something, they looked so much alike, but then he went out to the podium, and you saw the rest.”

  “Tanny, wasn’t it?”

  Blinking to remember, I whisper, “Yes, that was her name. Tanny Walters.”

  Kate whispers, “And what he did!”

  Rubbing my eyes I say, “He chose his daughter over the Senate seat. My father always chose work over me. Seeing Justin do that for her, it made me…I don’t know. It was just really beautiful. I wouldn’t have thought him capable of doing that.”

  Kate’s silent a moment. “What now?”

  “Well, Justin ran as an Independent. If he were running as a Democrat then the Democratic party would replace him on the ballot because they need someone in the race. But as it is, no one will take his place. It’s just between the two parties now. He’ll probably try to run the next election, and I’m sure it’s killing him.”

  She chuckles, “Are ya done? I meant what happens between you and him.”

  I blink a moment and laugh under my breath. “Oh! Sorry, I’ve been so mired in politics I thought you meant what’s his next move.”

  “Yeah, I don’t care about that.”

  “Well, thank you for the laugh. I don’t know when the last time I smiled was. Oh Kate,” I whisper, closing my eyes. “I said some really bad things to him last night.”

  Her voice turns somber. “What’d you say...”

  “I told him he was only good for sex. And that I don’t even like him.”

  “Did you fuck him last night?”

  “Yes.”

  “Before or after you kicked his dick in?”

  “Kate!”

  “Jaimie!!”

  “I know,” I groan. “I said other things I can’t remember. They just kept spilling out of my mouth.”

  “Do you like him?”

  “I barely know him.”

  Kate knowingly laughs, “Oh please! You like him. Just say it.”

  “My falling for a politician is so textbook Freudian it’s disgusting.”

  “We all marry our parents.”

  Tucking the folded towels into the cabinet they live in, I snort under my breath. “If I pick someone who resembles the qualities of one of my parents, I hope it will be my mother’s.”

  “Sorry, kid. It’s always the parent we have the most problems with. That’s the one we choose.”

  “God, Kate! Shut up! You’re scaring me!”

  She presses on, saying, “It’s true. There are tons of books about it.”

  “I’m not listening to this anymore. Right now I’m searching my fridge hoping a cheeseburger and fries will magically appear. A good one, not from some fast food place.”

  She moans, “Oh, a juicy burger with BBQ sauce!”

  “And real french fries cut from real potatoes with the skins left on, nice and crispy on the outside and gooshy on the inside,” I moan back.

  “Now you’ve made me hungry. I have to go eat, but I can’t deal with the suspense. What are you going to do about your boyfriend?”

  An ache twists my heart as I shut the refrigerator. “It kinda hurts when you call him that. I’m very single and he’s very not my boyfriend.”

  Justin

  On the Penthouse floor, the elevator whooshes open revealing a single door.

  My door.

  To my home.

  Where I live.

  Holy shit, this is really happening.

  My life is never going to be the same.

  “This is my home,” I mutter, digging for my keys. “Our home.”

  “Are those real?” Hannah points at the dual pots of fake trees.

  “Uh, no. There’s no light here so they wouldn’t survive if they were real. Come on inside.” Unlocking the door I roll the suitcases against the nearest wall, and lay the tote bag of her shoes on top.

  God, look at her. She’s so tiny in this big space.

  I may as well have brought a kangaroo, it’s that weird seeing a child walking through my modern living room of mostly black and silver furniture. The art is five times her size. But she has only one thing in her sights and that’s the amazing view. Floor-to-ceilings windows cover an entire side of my penthouse, and they showcase the cityscape to perfection. Her little hand presses against the glass, the other clutching Lou to her body as she stares out in awe.

  “That’s Atlanta. The city I grew up in. It’s your new home.” When she doesn’t say anything, I ask her, “Uh…are you hungry?”

  She nods and follows me into my kitchen, gazing at all the silver cabinets and long, black countertops. There’s a kitchen island that houses my sink and the cutting boards I prepare food on. In a large, silver bowl are green, organic grapes that won’t be good for much longer.

  “Climb on that chair and have some of these.” I push the bowl over as she scrambles up, never letting go of her doll. She plucks a grape off and starts peeling it, eating the skin first, then the inside, glancing to me as she goes for a second one.

  “You eat them one at a time?”

  She nods and plucks her next victim, peeling it just like the first.

  “Huh, okay.” I stick my head in the fridge and find the thing empty save for condiments and some eggs. “You want eggs?”

  Her cute little nose squishes up and she shakes her head, plucking another grape and inspecting it with all ten fingers. She decides it isn’t good and puts it back.

  “What was wrong with that one?”

  “Too squishy,” she says, as if it’s obvious.

  “I see.”

  I will learn over time, amusement and a little frustration, that food texture is a big thing with her. It’ll take three separate occasions before I learn that mushrooms are vile to her. She will spit them out in front of anyone watching. She thinks they feel like slugs.

  But tonight I’m not retaining much. “What do you think of your new home?”

  She shrugs, eyes locked on
peeling a firm grape.

  “Not impressed?” I smirk.

  She shakes her head.

  Chuckling, I pull my phone out and set it on the counter, sliding my suit jacket off next. “Wow,” I mutter getting a whiff of my scent. “I am ripe. Are you okay on your own, Hannah? If I set you up with some T.V., can I go take a shower?”

  “Of course,” her twinkly voice informs me.

  “Oh, all grown up I guess.”

  She nods a few times.

  “Well, I’m going to carry you over anyway.” I lift her off the chair, put her on my hip and grab the bowl of grapes on my way to my black leather couch. “I normally smell very good so forget what your nose is telling you right now. This is stressed out Justin, not normal-scented Justin.” Setting her and Lou down I place the fruit beside her and reach for the remote, searching channels until I spot Disney Family. “This should be good,” I mutter, turning up the volume. “Too loud?” She shakes her head, eyes already locked on my sixty-two inch flat screen. “Nice T.V. huh?”

  She doesn’t look at me, and nods. Thank God. It makes me feel better that she’s impressed by something.

  “I will be right over there!” I point toward my bedroom. “If you need anything, just yell at me and bang on the door.” She gives no sign she heard me. “Okay, then.”

  In case she wants to make a break for it while she has the chance I lock the security chain on the front door. There’s no way she can reach it unless she drags a chair over.

  Powering my phone on I wince as the screen blows up with messages of every kind.

  All of my family has called.

  Even Jeremy.

  Since he got home from the Marines, he’s been distant, so seeing his name here is the only surprise.

  “You okay, Hannah?” I warily call to her.

  No reaction. I’m invisible.

  Under my breath, I mutter, “Better finish this shower before commercial.”

  Jaimie

  “What are you going to do about your boyfriend?”

  “Kate, stop it.”

  “What? Jaimie, listen to me.” I can practically see her pointing. “You have some crazy idea in your head that you’re not worth a man’s love.”

  I gasp, “Where is this coming from?”

  “From being your friend for eight years. You always shut them down before you have a chance for them to reject you.”

  “When did you start taking psychology?”

  “Dammit, listen to me, you are a catch. It’s time you own it before you screw this up.” She pauses and her voice changes to a more gentle tone. “You told me he’s always staring at you. What if this isn’t just a sex thing? What if he is into you for real?”

  Leaning on my kitchen counter I throw my hand in the air. “He isn’t. And he’s such a cocky bastard. He’s so conceited. And too—”

  “—gorgeous? Smart? Too good for you?”

  “Stop it.” I snatch up my purse and keys. “Kate, I have to go eat. I’m getting hangry.”

  My best friend is a pit bull with two legs and a vagina, and she will not allow me to give in like this. “What…are you going…TO DO?”

  “What can I do?”

  “You can say you’re sorry.”

  “No way! No! Uh uh. Goodbye. I love you.”

  The visual of Justin Cocker’s reaction to a woman apologizing has me laughing like some kind of a lunatic all the way into my black Subaru. I’m so amused I’m even talking to myself and acting it out. “Please forgive me Justin, now that I see you might be a good guy after all, I am so sorry I was a bitch, because well, we just had sex in a couple of public places and I mistook that as nothing, rather than the beginnings of a beautiful relationship. My bad.”

  My chuckles grow increasingly laced with pain and fade completely as I park beside The Vortex in Little Five Points. I came here because they’re the best burger in town, but I never expected to overhear two female food servers at the host stand, talking about Justin and Hannah’s mother.

  “It’s so sad, isn’t it, about Tanny?”

  “One night they went into the bathroom here, and had sex!”

  “Tanny and Justin?”

  “Yes! His brothers Jake and Jason—”

  “—So hot!”

  “They’re fucking conceited bastards if you ask me. Well, they called me over for something. Probably to grab my ass. I don’t remember. And I realized it was Tanny’s section and that Justin was missing. I freaked out, found them, and made her get back out here.” She sees me watching them, standing just three feet away, and her face changes. “Oh, sorry. A server who used to work with us just died.”

  The other one lies, “We’re very sad.”

  I’m glaring at them. My tone is drier than dust in a desert as I call them out on their bullshit. “Really? Because it sounds like you’re gossiping. A woman has lost her life and the opportunity to see her daughter grow up. And then there’s Hannah, who won’t be able to see her mother smiling at her when she graduates, or when she gets married, or has her first child. None of it. So why don’t you two ladies stop using other people’s tragedy as your entertainment, and get a fucking life.”

  They stare at me, embarrassed yet with no apology or sign they even understand their lack of class.

  “Um…did you want a table?”

  Disgusted I walk past them. “I’ll order take out from the bar, thank you.”

  Justin

  I have never showered so fast in my life.

  Throwing on sweats and a loose T-shirt, I towel dry my hair while padding barefoot out of my bedroom, expecting to find her hypnotized by cartoons.

  What the fuck?

  She’s on the floor by her suitcase where it looks like a tornado hit it, contents scattered everywhere. Tears are streaming as she sobs, “Mommy!”

  Our eyes lock, and her face is so tragic I drop the towel and rush over, pulling her into my arms and sitting on the floor with her. “I know, Hannah. I know, baby. I’m so sorry.” She throws her arms around my neck and cries into my shirt while I rock her and keep telling her it’s going to be okay.

  I’m stunned.

  How did this happen so quickly?

  Was it because I left for five minutes?

  My shoulders loosen as I realize she was looking for the photos of Tanny, that’s why she was calling out Mommy. She didn’t see where I’d put them. As the search went on she must have become hysterical, which with her grief does not surprise me. I just wish I’d left them somewhere obvious. I hate seeing these tears. Reaching over I unzip the side pouch and yank them out. “Here she is, baby. I put the photos here. See?”

  Little arms let go of my neck and she turns to see if it’s true. She’s crying so hard she’s gasping for air. Grabbing Lou off the ground I hand him to her and together the three of us slowly flip through the images until Hannah’s breathing slows down. She touches the photo of Tanny holding her as a newborn and whispers, “God had to take her.”

  Oh fuck.

  What am I supposed to say to that?!

  I was raised catholic but I sure don’t practice it.

  In over my head I murmur into Hannah’s ear, “He did.”

  “Why?”

  Blinking away tears of my own, I shrug, “He’s old, Hannah. His eyes are bad. He needed someone to read to him, and he saw what a good job she did for you.”

  My phone rings, and when I hear it I feel like someone floating in the ocean after a boat wreck who sees land for the first time in weeks.

  Lifting up Hannah, the photos, and her toy I go to see who’s calling and stare at the surprising name lighting up the screen. Frowning, I swipe to answer, “Jaimie?”

  She pauses. “How did you know it was me?”

  Since I’m not in the mood to lie, I flat out confess, “I got your number off your website and programmed it in.”

  “You did?”

  “About a month ago. Why are you calling?”

  “I just had to ask…” She pauses. �
�Is everything okay?”

  My eyes are locked on that damn delivery room photograph. “No.”

  “You’re not okay?”

  “Nope.”

  “You want me to come over?”

  “Get over here.”

  Jaimie

  “I need to order something else, please,” I tell the pink-haired bartender.

  “What do you need?”

  Scanning the menu, I rattle off, “Fried Pickle Spears. Dixie Wrecked Taters. Spicy Mighty Meaty Chili. Holy Guacamole burger done medium. Lone Star Tex Melt burger, same temp. I don’t see just a regular burger on here for kids.”

  “We’re twenty-one and older but I can make you a regular burger.”

  “Great. Probably well done. And an order of fries.” I tap my lip, staring at the choices. “Plantains! One of those. And one more order of tater tots. Thank you.”

  While I wait I have a glass of wine because my pulse is not at all normal.

  I can’t believe I asked him that.

  I can’t believe he said yes.

  Soon enough I’m grabbing up plastic bags jam-packed with hot food, sliding my hands through the loops so I can grab my keys and look at my phone for the address Justin texted me.

  As I pass the host stand, only one girl I told off is still there. Upon spotting me she hastily averts her eyes to the seating chart.

  I get along with most people. And I can give you slack if you need it. Lord knows in my business I’ve done that with about a hundred brides who lost their shit on wedding day. But if you’re an asshole for no good reason, I will let you know. Somebody’s got to.

  One of the things I love about Atlanta is there’s always somewhere to park. At his building I snatch up the food and kick my car door closed with my heel, trying to act cool and collected as I head inside. A security guard looks up. Slowing my steps, I offer, “I’m here to see Justin Cocker.”

  He smiles, “Ms. Rothdale?”

  “Yes, that’s me.”

  “He’s expecting you. Go right on up. He lives in the penthouse.”