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

by Faleena Hopkins

  “Well, as the people of Atlanta know, Hal’s has been around for over twenty years and attracts an older, conservative crowd, and they are shocked, Tom. There were a lot of long silences as the numbers started coming in.”

  The anchor agrees, “Normally we don’t cover non-Presidential-year elections as much as we have tonight, but when we saw the record numbers of young voters tallied during exit polls saying they had written in Justin Cocker’s name, things got interesting.”

  Holding her ear to block out distracting noise, she says, “They sure did, Tom. It seems Justin Cocker’s shocking speech had an impact no one anticipated. And it goes to show you how much power the Internet truly has given the people of today. There’s no telling what they can achieve.”

  “Thank you, Monica.” She nods and her window disappears, his face centering in the screen. “Times have changed, and the people have spoken. They want more change and they want honesty. We’ll be right back after this commercial.”

  Dad clicks the remote and the screen goes dark. Everyone’s shuffling in the seats or on their feet. “Well,” he sighs. “Guess I’m out of a job.” A politician’s smile appears on his face and people relax, some quipping things about retirement and beaches. When it gets silent again, Dad looks at me. I offer him a soft smile, my heart breaking for him even as I register the shock of Justin’s win and how excited he must be.

  “Drink up, everyone! It’s still a party,” Dad smiles, raising his glass. “This is why America is great. Democracy. Let’s not forget.”

  I jump in with the biggest hostess smile I can muster, “I’ll put some music on.”

  “Thank you, Jaimie,” he nods as some of his closest friends rise to discuss the horror of what they just saw. All the men and women in attendance are in politics and it’s a stuffy crowd. But they sure do love the booze, although not one is drunk. High tolerances get built over time.

  I select a 1950’s channel on Pandora because that music is always cheery. Most of those who are present grew up listening to it, so feet start tapping to the music.

  It’s during awkward moments such as these when I’m glad I’m good at throwing parties.

  With everyone occupied I step out into my father’s backyard, hugging myself for warmth as I stare at the stars, missing home. Cold nights remind me of Boston, though I know it’s much colder there tonight. The door opens behind me. “Jaimie?” I glance over my shoulder to see Dad holding my phone. “Justin called you.”

  With mingled surprise and guilt I whisper, “Oh, Dad! I’m so sorry.”

  He joins me in staring at the sky and hands me the phone. “I’m surprised you’re not with him.” I offer no explanation. “What do you think of my new girlfriend?”

  “I’m not as surprised as you thought I would be, Dad.”

  “I thought you might find it amusing that I hit it off with one of the faculty members from Mercer.”

  “I’m not. You’re very charming. And Lauren seems like a nice lady.”

  “She is.”

  We stand silently watching the stars. “You’re dodging the deeper topic, Dad.”

  “I know.”

  I touch his arm. “How are you feeling about this?”

  He sighs, hazel eyes flickering as he decides. “When I saw Justin choose that little girl over his career I felt jealous.”

  My head tilts. “Jealous?”

  “Of his integrity as a father.” Dad looks at me. “I know I haven’t been what you needed me to be. I’m sorry, Jaimie, that I never put you first.”

  Tears jump to my eyes. “Dad!”

  He touches my forearm and ends the discussion, bringing the topic back to what he’s most comfortable with – politics. “I’m from a different era. I think Justin’s time has come.”

  “Senator Rothdale?” his maid, Maggie, calls out, poking her head through the open backdoor. “Reporters are on the phone. It’s suddenly ringing off the hook, sir. They want a statement.”

  His head droops as he heads in. I follow him, standing in the open doorframe to listen. The room goes quiet as Dad answers, “This is Senator Rothdale.” He pauses. “I believe that any man who can put family before his career will put the state of Georgia before his own interests as well. Justin Cocker will do a fine job in Washington. I’ll be the first to root for his success.” He pauses, smiling. “Thank you. Goodnight.”

  My hand flutters to my mouth as Dad hangs up the phone, his eyes cast down. The room erupts in applause. He meets my eyes and we share a nod of mutual respect before he turns to clasp hands with his proud friends. His new girlfriend is his age, dressed conservatively, her short hair well-styled. She beams at him, bangle bracelets jingling as she reaches to place a hand on his chest. He covers it with his own and smiles at her.

  I step outside, my knuckles tight around my cell phone. Breathing deeply I hug myself to stay warm, staring up at the sky and wishing Justin was the kind of man to open his heart like that.

  My father didn’t know how to be a dad, but he sure knows how to be a romantic partner.

  He’s always in love.

  I used to hate it. Now I envy it.

  Justin is calling me again?

  Don’t answer it.

  Don’t answer it.

  Don’t answer it.

  Shutting my eyes tightly I say, “Hello?”

  “Jaimie!”

  Oh God, the sound of his voice is enough to kill me. “Yes,” I croak.

  “Were you watching?”

  “Congratulations.” I force a smile so he can hear it. “I’m very happy for you.”

  He’s silent, then, “You’re still mad.”

  “That’s not the right word,” I whisper. “I’m not angry.”

  “Then what are you?”

  “I’m hurt, Justin. I’m hurt.”

  Like don’t want to get out of bed in the morning, hurt.

  “Why? Because I didn’t invite you to brunch with my family?”

  “Because you didn’t want to.” Wiping a stray tear from my cheek, I steady my voice to say, “Justin, I’m very excited for you. Really, I know how much this means to you and I think it’s great. And my dad handled it surprisingly well.”

  “He did?”

  “Yes. He was impressed with what you did in Savannah. He thinks you’re the right man for the job. You’ll be seeing it on the news. He just made a statement.”

  “Jason! Turn up the TV.” The melodic sound of reporter’s voices rises in volume in the background.

  Hugging myself, I ask, “Jason’s with you?”

  “Yeah.” His tone gets hurried as he explains, “It’s just him though. Mom’s watching Hannah at their place. It’s just Jason with me. No one else.”

  “It’s none of my business who’s there,” I whisper. “I have to go.”

  “Jaimie!”

  I hang up and stare at the phone a moment before shutting it off. Alone, I gaze at the sky for a blessedly long and uninterrupted period of time when I begin to see what I’ve done for the first time. When Dad asked for my help, I dropped my whole life. Then when Justin asked for my help, I did it again.

  I don’t have any friends here.

  I haven’t found a yoga place here.

  I’ve taken only one walk.

  There is no art on my walls.

  I don’t even have a real coffee table.

  I helped decorate his daughter’s room and move his office when my own home is not complete. How did I fall into the same pit so many women have fallen into before? We’re so good at helping others yet so bad at helping ourselves.

  Justin

  Five weeks later

  “No, Mary, I want her going to Trinity just like my brothers and I did, and if they don’t want to take her mid-term, ask them what kind of coloring homework they need her to complete and I’ll make sure it gets done to their satisfaction and that she stays within all the stupid little lines. And yes, that was sarcastic. It’s fucking kindergarten!”

  “Mr. Cocker,
” my secretary says with measured patience. “I think you might need a vacation.”

  Rubbing my head I mutter, “I think you’re right. But I’m not taking one, so don’t bring it up again. And I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

  “It’s almost time to pick her up from daycare. Want me to call a driver?”

  “No. I’m going to finish this email and then I’ll be out the door. How much time do I have?”

  “A little over an hour.”

  My head snaps up. “What?”

  Mary’s eyes crinkle with compassion, “I thought you might need a moment to cool down before you get there. Maybe drive it off. You’re in a mood, sir.”

  “I’ve been in a mood,” I mutter to myself, typing quickly. “That’ll be all.” When she doesn’t leave I glance up. “What is it?”

  “Is it the funeral, sir?”

  My throat tightens and I rest my forehead in my hand. Claire Walters passed away and the funeral yesterday had a larger impact on me than I imagined it would. Not only am I worried about Hannah, I’m hoping to God I got enough stories audio-recorded so that she’ll know her mother as much as she can when she gets older and realizes the depth of her loss.

  But also, that ceremony knocked me on my ass for personal reasons. You really think about life when death rears its fucked-up, bullshit, bastard-ass head.

  “Well, that certainly didn’t help,” I grumble.

  “You’ve been on edge for some time now.”

  “I know.” Standing up I gather my keys. “Can you finish that email for me? Say polite things and blah blah blah. I’ve gotta get out of here.”

  “Of course, Mr. Cocker.”

  She passes me for the desk on my way out.

  Twelve minutes later I’m riding by Jaimie’s house, slowing down and telling myself this is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. I put the car in park and jump out, strolling up like it was yesterday she was in my arms.

  Knock knock knock knock knock knock.

  Smoky charcoal eyes peer out from the front window, then disappear. The door opens a second later. “Justin? That was a lot of banging.”

  “How are you?”

  She eyes me. “Come in.”

  I walk past her and hear the door slowly click behind me. In the living room I scan left and right, my eyebrows rising up. Two very comfortable, stylishly purple chairs sit opposite a wood coffee table and the couch she loves. There’s a painting over the fireplace and little multi-colored bottles on the mantle. To my left I can see the dining room now has a nice table and chairs, with candles resting on a white runner, more paintings on the wall there, as well.

  “You finished decorating.”

  “Why are you here, Justin?”

  Turning, I discover her arms are crossed and that detachment has returned. “We’ve gone back in time, haven’t we?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “You’ve got that look on your face that you had outside The Bohemian.”

  Jaimie blinks and releases her arms, inhaling deeply. “I’m just a little surprised.”

  Walking to her, I reach out but she steps back. “I miss you. I can’t stop fucking thinking about you. And…I know you still care about me, too.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. You just swallowed when I said I miss you and there was pain in your eyes. I recognized it because that same pain has been with me every day!”

  Her lips part. “I’m just getting my life where I want it.”

  “I’m not stopping you.”

  “Then what are you doing?”

  Raking one hand through my hair I blink away from her and sit on the arm of her couch. “I just want to see you again.”

  She whispers, “How?”

  “What do you mean, how?”

  Stepping closer, she tilts her head like she wants me to understand something. “How do you want to see me? Where I’m hidden from your family?”

  “Hey, that’s not fair,” I snap, rising up.

  She storms to the kitchen with me on her heels.

  “It’s not fair?!” she huffs.

  I hesitate as I take in a different room than I saw last. There are magnets on the fridge with clippings from local upcoming events. Passes to a yoga place. Tickets to a concert at Terminal West. Canvas art on the walls with photographs of Atlanta and Boston combined, a montage of sorts. Utensils in a vase on the stove. Potholders nearby that have recently been utilized. A small workbench is taking up what used to be an empty wall and on it are magazine cutouts from Brides magazine.

  Pointing to it, I stammer, “Are you getting married? How did that happen so quickly! Who is he?! I’ll kill him.”

  She glares at me and hits the counter top. “It’s for my job!!!”

  My mouth snaps shut and I stare at her. “Oh.”

  “God, Justin, are you a child or a man?”

  “What the fuck did you just ask me?”

  Ruefully she smiles with disbelief in her eyes. “You are so brilliant and so charismatic, and yet when it comes to love you are stunted beyond understanding.”

  “Oh, and you’re Ms. Romance? You’re the one who told me the sex was hot because you didn’t like me.”

  “You’re twisting my words around.” I’m about to argue but she loses her temper and shouts, “Enough! I will not let myself be dragged into this because you’re lonely.”

  “Lonely?” I laugh with sarcasm shooting out of my eyes. “I’m NEVER alone!”

  Licking those perfect fucking lips of hers that I haven’t been able to get out of my stubborn head ever since I met her, she steadies her voice and says, “Then you won’t notice if I’m not there.”

  “Jaimie,” I groan.

  “No. Please go.”

  “Jaimie!” My tone turns on its ass and I almost fall to my knees to beg her, but there’s no fucking way I’m going to allow myself to do that. “I need you.”

  “Finish the sentence,” she whispers with tears hovering in her eyes.

  “What? That’s it. That’s the whole sentence.”

  “I need you…in a box. I need you…part of the time. I need you…never to want to be a part of my family.” Her jaw tightens with pride and she waits for me to say something.

  “I don’t believe in marriage.”

  “Who said I want that?” she asks, but I can tell she does.

  “You want it. And you should have it.” My voice cracks as I tell her, “You’re incredible. You are. And you deserve a man who can give you what you want. I can’t. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry because every night I go to sleep and my chest feels like ten people are sitting on it. But I can’t give you what you deserve.”

  I turn on my heel and leave, shutting the door behind me with no plan of ever coming back.

  As I make quick strides to my Audi, I call Jason whose production studio is a block from Hannah’s daycare. I picked that one on purpose for location, and of course it’s reputation as well. My family has been helping a lot with Hannah since I got elected. I haven’t taken office yet but there has been so much preparation needed to make the transition smooth.

  “Jason, Can you pick up Hannah for me? I’m on my way, but I don’t want her to think I forgot.” Sliding in, I start it up and lay my head on the steering wheel.

  “Of course. Where are you?”

  “I went to Jaimie’s.”

  He’s silent for two seconds, then explodes with, “That’s great! How’d it go?”

  “She wants everything I can’t give.”

  “Justin, you’ve been like a fucking zombie. What are you doing? You love her.”

  “I just can’t, Jase. Get Hannah. I’ll be there in about ten minutes. I gotta drive slowly to make sure I get there safely for her. She can’t lose two parents because I’m a fucking idiot. My head’s not on straight. Fuck, I’m in pain, Jason. I’m fucking hurting.”

  “I’ll get her. Stay there until you can drive. You want me to bring her to your house?”

  “Yeah. Could you? I gott
a just sit here a minute.” My best friend assures me he’s got my back and we hang up. I do not see that Jaimie is watching me from her kitchen window, as my shoulders start to shake with sobs.

  Justin

  When I walk into my building, Carl isn’t at his desk and my dress shoes echo sharp footsteps all the way to the elevator. I tap my feet, waiting for it to come while staring at the numbers. It was on my floor so that means Jason’s there now.

  Over the past five weeks, Hannah and I have gotten into a sort of schedule. I read to her most nights before bed. We have dinner two or three times a week at a family member’s home, joined by whoever’s available. If we’re at Jake’s, Jaxson and Rachel might come down from their ranch, etc.

  No matter where we are, if Jeremy comes he brings his Rottweiler, Aslan. Hannah loves that dog with a vengeance. Drew was scared of having him around Emma and Ethan at first, but Jeremy worked with dogs in the Marines and he educated us all about this particular breed: they’re protective of women and children. Aslan has proved my brother’s knowledge accurate.

  I’ve kept it together when I’m with Hannah, but my family can see right through me and have called me out more times than I care to think about. So as the elevator doors open and I see my mother waiting in front of my front door, I groan, “Oh no way. Did Jason do this? Did he call you?”

  “Justin, let me inside.”

  I freeze because I’ve never heard Nancy Cocker use that tone. Ever.

  Snapping the right key out, I slam it into the lock and mutter, “Can’t wait for this.”

  She stomps in behind me and slams the door. I flip around and see daggers in her eyes. “We are going to talk and we are going to talk right now!”

  Blinking in shock, I say, “Mom, you okay?”

  “No, I am not okay. I am watching two of my boys hanging by threads and I can’t do it anymore. Now I can’t help Jeremy because I don’t know how. But you! You’re just a stubborn fool. You I can deal with!”

  “I’m a grown man. I don’t need you—”

  “—I know I did this to you and I’m going to undo it!”

  Huffing, I pace the room.