Gone Too Far

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Gone Too Far Page 5

by Angela Winters


  “Oh, hello. Do you have an appointment?” she asked curtly, although she seemed to admire Leigh’s suit.

  “Yes, I am supposed to see Senator Cody at one.” Leigh spoke loudly to be heard above all the noise. “I’m Leigh Chase.”

  The woman’s green eyes widened. “Oh, Ms. Chase. I’m sorry, I mean Dr. Chase. Yes, the senator is expecting you. I think he’s on the phone, but I’ll let him know you’re here. He wouldn’t want to keep a Chase waiting.”

  When she said this, a young staffer walked by and looked at Leigh suspiciously. It always made Leigh uncomfortable when people treated her differently because of her last name, because it gave the impression to others that this was what she wanted. Expressions of indifference immediately turned to disdain and envy.

  The woman, who never gave her name, was up and away in a second. Leigh looked around for an empty chair to sit in but couldn’t find one.

  “You can move anything,” said a woman who approached her with a clipboard hugged close to her chest. She was white and looked to be the same age as Leigh. She was pretty, with Nordic blond hair that was almost white. She wore a hunter-green sharp skirt suit that Leigh assumed cost a lot more than she expected a legislative aide could afford.

  “I don’t want to mess up your papers.”

  “Here.” The woman reached down into the closest chair and picked up a stack of the L.A. Times, dumping them on a nearby coffee table. “Good?”

  Leigh didn’t like the woman’s attitude. She was acting as if Leigh was demanding she do this for her and being difficult about it. She thought she might try to clear the air. “My name is—”

  “I know who you are,” the woman said, looking Leigh up and down. “I’m Senator Cody’s chief of staff, Kelly Smith. I know everyone he meets with.”

  Leigh could feel the freeze from the woman who stood only two feet away. “Is it common for a chief of staff to leave D.C.?”

  “I go wherever the senator goes,” she responded coldly.

  I’ll bet you do, is what Leigh wanted to say. From the possessive tone of Kelly’s voice, Leigh assumed that she was probably sleeping with the senator or at least wanted to. Max Cody was married at a young age, but his wife was killed in a car accident seven years ago. He had no children, and rumors of his dating were few and far between. Maybe, Leigh thought, it was because he was dating someone he’d wanted to keep secret.

  Just as Leigh was about to sit down, the woman from before called her name and waved her over to the main office behind a dark wooden door.

  Once inside, Leigh noticed that the senator was not as ready as she’d hoped. He was talking on the phone, and just as Leigh was about to close the door behind her, Kelly squeezed through and rushed past her to his desk.

  Leigh stood unnoticed as Max switched between the phone and Kelly’s questions about a charity dinner in Sacramento later this week. Leigh considered herself a patient person, but she was getting angry. It didn’t help that when he finally acknowledged her, Max gestured for her to sit down across from him as if he was a father directing his child.

  Leigh ignored the gesture and gave it a few seconds before she loudly cleared her throat. When he looked at her, she gave him a look she had learned from her mother—one that, without words, made it clear that there was about to be trouble. He seemed to understand, because he quickly hung up the phone and gestured for Kelly to leave. Kelly tossed Leigh a contemptuous look before turning and leaving.

  “What was I thinking?” he asked in a deep voice. “I shouldn’t have expected a Chase to share time with anything else.”

  Leigh rolled her eyes. “Is that what you think that was about?”

  Max stood up and reached across his desk. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Dr. Chase.”

  Leigh shook his hand before finally sitting down. She had to remind herself that she needed his help, so she had to suck it up. “I can see that you’re busy. I appreciate the time.”

  “I always have time for the people I represent.” He leaned back in his chair with a charming smile.

  Leigh admitted he was very attractive. He was a few inches over six feet but was much more than the traditional tall, dark, and handsome. He had dark, penetrating eyes, a broad nose, and a hard jawline. He was young and very fit at thirty-seven, but he still was able to look distinguished, like he belonged where he was even though most men and women in his position were ten or more years older than him.

  Everyone knew he came from a middle-class family in Freemont and found his way to Yale before receiving his MD at Johns Hopkins University. He married one of his med-school classmates and practiced for eight years before running for Congress. He was elected twice to the House of Representatives for his home-town district. He took two years away from politics after his wife was killed in a car accident, but then returned to run for the Senate. He won in a landslide. He was a political winner who attracted young people and minorities, and the Republican Party hoped he would be their Barack Obama.

  “Especially,” he continued, “one from such an important family.”

  “I’m not here on behalf of my family,” Leigh responded. “I’m here—”

  “That’s good,” Max said. “Because despite my requests, your family did not see fit to support my campaign for the House or the Senate despite being Republicans.”

  Leigh realized she wasn’t going to get around this. It happened all the time. She wished she could be anonymous at times but knew that if she was, she probably wouldn’t get anywhere.

  “Do you know why that is?” Max asked. “Why the richest, most prominent black family in the country would not support a black candidate for office in their state who belonged to their party?”

  “My parents don’t clear their political motives with me, but I imagine they will return to the Republican Party when the party returns to them.”

  Max blinked in response to her unexpected retort. “Interesting. You’re one to believe that the neocons have taken over the party. You’d like the moderates to regain control.”

  “I don’t care either way,” Leigh said. “I’m a Democrat.”

  “I imagined as much considering your advocacy for such a big spending bill.”

  She ignored the connotation. “So you actually read the information I sent you on the health care program?”

  “No,” he answered, pulling closer to his desk. He flipped through some folders as if looking for something. “I’m sure someone on my staff has. But I know what bill you’re here to talk to me about, and I have to tell you, if you can’t figure out how to pay for it without raising taxes, you’re not going to have much luck.”

  “I believe when you are passionate about something, you find a way.”

  “Having billionaires for parents doesn’t hurt.”

  Leigh’s eyes turned to slits. This asshole was intent on making her squirm. What a politician. “I thought you had passion as well, Senator. Being a former physician, you can understand how important health care is.”

  “No one argues that point,” he answered. “But this…soda tax…is not fair to taxpayers, and I can’t tell the governor that this is a good idea despite the worthiness of its purpose.”

  “The amount is so insignificant.” Leigh opened the portfolio she had brought with her. She pulled out an article by the L.A. Times and placed it on his desk. “That report says that it would cost only five cents extra for ten ounces of soda.”

  “Only?” he asked, not bothering to look at the article. “Tell that to a family of four who has to—”

  “This is a sin tax, Senator. Just like cigarettes and alcohol. No one is being forced to buy soda. And for those who do choose to, they can regulate based on what they can afford.”

  Max’s expression made it clear he wasn’t used to being interrupted. “Do you know how much movies cost these days?”

  “Is this about to be another dig at my last name?”

  “No, it’s a question,” he said. “It costs twelve bucks a person n
ow. A hot dog costs five bucks. Popcorn costs about five bucks and soda about four bucks. Now you want to add more money to that? What about all those Californians for whom the movies are the only form of entertainment they can even barely afford?”

  “That’s your concern?” Leigh asked, unable to conceal her anger. “So regarding the pregnant woman in Long Beach who doesn’t have any health insurance but needs a sonogram because she hasn’t felt her baby move in a week, your concern is that someone might have to pay an extra fifteen cents for their six-pack of Diet Coke?”

  Leigh could tell she had gotten under his skin, and that was what she wanted. He was a jerk, so she wasn’t going to further appeal to his sense of decency. All she had left was to appeal to his sense of self-preservation. Any politician puts their image ahead of anything else.

  “Is that what you stand for?” she asked, realizing he hadn’t intended to respond.

  “I underestimated you,” Max finally said. After a short pause, he continued. “I certainly won’t do that again.”

  When Carter entered his bedroom, he wasn’t expecting what he saw, but he was very pleased.

  Lying in their bed, Julia Hall had her arms spread across the pillows, her perfect body on display for the man she loved. Her brown skin was glowing, and she was wearing a firebrand-red satin slip dress that was see-through sheer in the middle and shaped like a burst of flames. It accentuated her very fit and trim figure and stopped just at her hips, revealing her lack of underwear. Her long hair was flowing over her shoulders and over her left breast as she tilted her head with a welcoming smile.

  “What are you doing home so early?” Carter asked, beginning to undo his tie. Julia was a public-relations executive for a large L.A. firm.

  “I thought I would surprise you.” Julia sat up with a seductive grin on her face. “Just because we’re getting married doesn’t mean the excitement has to go.”

  Carter joined her on the bed. Julia was a very attractive woman, and although her exterior was generally cold and aloof, she could be very experimental sexually. She was more needy than Carter would prefer, but her background made her a good match in so many ways.

  “Last night,” Julia said as she scooted over to him, helping him with his jacket, “I wanted to make love, but I fell asleep before you came to bed. You spend too much time in that office down the hall.”

  “Trust me,” Carter said, “if you had come into that office last night with this on, I would have stopped working.”

  He took hold of her and suddenly pulled her to him. He brought his mouth down to hers and kissed her firmly. Her lips were soft, and as she moved her body against his, he could feel his body begin to heat up. He wanted her.

  As Carter lay her back on the bed, he could feel her unbuttoning his shirt. His mouth went to her neck, and as he positioned himself on top of her, he reached down to unzip his pants.

  “I love you,” Julia whispered as her hands slid his shirt off his shoulders and down his arm. “I love you, Carter.”

  As her hands gripped his bare arms, Carter returned to her lips and reached his hand down between her legs. He rubbed the soft, hairless skin around her center and kissed her deeper, doing everything he could to not think of anyone but her.

  “I love you,” she repeated into his ear before bringing her soft lips against his again.

  Carter was trying to unzip his pants with his free hand when he felt Julia pull away. When he looked up at her, he could see the look of hurt on her face. He hadn’t any idea what had happened, but was sure it was his fault.

  “What?” he asked.

  “How many times do I have to tell you I love you before you say it back?” Julia scooted away from him, looking ready to cry.

  “This again?” Carter felt his growing arousal skid to a halt as the familiar complaint lowered his temperature by a hundred degrees. “It’s not something I—”

  “You’re going to say it isn’t something you like to say, but the truth is,” Julia said, “it isn’t something you like to feel.”

  “Julia, you know how much I care about you.” Carter sat back on the bed, not as bothered by the pain in her eyes as he knew he should be. “We’re getting married for Pete’s sake.”

  Carter wanted to love Julia, but he didn’t. When they’d met, Carter was in a bad place. Avery had made it clear she was going to stay with Anthony, and he was trying to forget her by sleeping with any woman he met. As always, there were more volunteers than he could ever want. Julia was different from the other women in the sense that her background didn’t make her a prospect for a one-night stand. Her family, rich doctors from Dallas, were not at the level of the Chases in terms of power and influence, but they were their sort of equivalent in the Southwest.

  His father had warned Carter not to toy with a Hall, but as Carter decided that getting Avery back was his priority, Julia soon became very useful. He had devised that the best way to get back into Avery’s heart was to get her to let her guard down about his intentions. Pretending to care about Julia was part of that.

  Julia was not a stupid woman. She knew that Carter didn’t love her, but she wanted to be a Chase, and the opportunities that could open for her through Carter were more than enough to overcome the inconvenience of the affair he and Avery began last year. Carter had ended it with Julia once he thought that he and Avery were going to be together again, but then Anthony’s accident changed everything.

  In a fit of rage, Carter thought of a way to hurt Avery the most. He proposed to Julia as part of an overall plan that was supposed to end with him taking Connor away from Avery. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to that yet, because, despite trying desperately, he still felt something for Avery that prevented him from hurting her to that degree.

  “I have tried,” Julia said, shaking her head. “I have tried to make you love me, make you forget about Avery, but you won’t.”

  “Avery is the mother of my daughter,” Carter said. “But I’m marrying you.”

  “But you love her.” Julia’s voice sounded as if she was on the verge of tears.

  Carter was not in the mood for another self-pity session. “I don’t want to talk about her!”

  “Do you think I do?” Julia asked desperately. “How can I ignore her when I see you look right through me whenever she is around?”

  “You’re getting what you want,” Carter shouted as he shot up from the bed. He zipped his pants back up, looking down at her. “Let’s not fool each other, Julia. You want me more for what I can give you access to than my heart.”

  Julia’s expression flattened. “I want it all, Carter. Is that so wrong?”

  Carter turned his back to her, headed for his balcony. “No one gets it all, Julia.”

  Carter welcomed the fresh air as he stepped out onto his balcony. He wondered how he was going to manage this. He didn’t love Julia, but love had ripped him to shreds. He wasn’t going to let it do that again. He had always assumed that he would find someone to share a life with, because he wanted what his parents had. Whatever their faults, Janet and Steven had shown their children, through example, what a loving marriage was. But after Avery, Carter had just come to accept that this kind of love was very rare, and it wasn’t going to happen for him.

  It hurt just to think of how foolish he was to believe that he and Avery could stay as happy forever as they were for that short time. He was filled with regret and was sick to his stomach playing over and over in his mind whether or not every step he made was right or wrong and what could have been if he’d chosen differently. He had admitted to all his missteps, his lies and deceptions. None of it mattered. She still left him, and he doubted that she ever really loved him.

  That morning, Avery was just closing a deal with a customer for a Nubian princess sculpture created by a seventeen-year-old artist from Compton when Carter walked in. He had that all-too-familiar look of contempt on his face as he darted right for her. She quickly thanked the customer and promised to have the piece deliv
ered in two days. Carter had done this before, stormed into Hue, the art gallery owned by Avery’s mother, Nikki, and interrupted Avery with some gripe or another. He never cared that there were customers around.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked as soon as he reached the counter.

  Avery noted the $5,000 gray suit he was wearing. “You came all the way down here from L.A. to ask me why I’m here? I work here, Carter.”

  “Not on Tuesdays,” he said. “I’ve been calling your cell phone for two hours.”

  Avery reached into the back pocket of her jeans, expecting to find her cell phone, but it wasn’t there. “I must have left it in my purse in the back room. What’s wrong? Is it Connor?”

  “How in the hell would I know?” Carter asked loudly. “I’m frantic wondering what is going on with my daughter, and—”

  “Our daughter,” she corrected. “And she’s with my mother.”

  “I found that out,” Carter said, “after I called her. Dammit, Avery. You don’t work on Tuesdays. You’re supposed to be taking care of OUR daughter.”

  “For your information,” she replied, “I am always taking care of our daughter. I told you two weeks ago that with the ethnic art festival in L.A. this week, we were going to get extra traffic and I would have to work extra hours.”

  “And I told you no.”

  Avery’s eyes closed to almost slits. “I wasn’t asking for your permission. I was telling you so you would know.”

  “Your mother can’t take care of Connor the way she needs,” Carter said.

  Avery laughed. “You’re ridiculous. My mother raised three children perfectly fine.”

  “Yes, but she’s taking care of your father. She can’t watch a baby and a sick husband at the same time.”

 

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