Bedmates

by Nichole Chase

  “My son, Jake, is living proof that our soldiers are willing to give everything for their country. It’s time we give back!” My mother stepped back from the microphone and waved me forward.

  The crowd cheered and clapped when I hugged my mother and she whispered in my ear. “Make me proud.”

  I watched as she stepped back next to Maddie and wrapped an arm around the younger woman’s shoulders. Maddie’s smile tightened but she didn’t step away. Considering the amount of venom my mother tended to level at the young woman, I had to admire her fortitude.

  “I’ve had the great pleasure to serve our country over the last six years.” The clapping grew and I clenched the podium a little tighter. “But I think there is still more work to be done. Here. At home. Our veterans are coming back after giving everything they have, to find they have no home to call their own. Some of them are still waiting for prosthetics, medical help, or don’t have enough to eat. We need to change that. Here in D.C., in our own backyard, there are five hundred or more homeless veterans. Some of them are mentally ill or physically incapable of working. Are we the type of people that expect sacrifices from others but aren’t willing to help in return?”

  Some of the people shouted no in agreement while others clapped. I shifted my weight off of my prosthetic just a bit and nodded at the people before me.

  “I didn’t think so. It’s time to shoulder some of their burden as they have done for us.” My stomach clenched and I fought to not lose my focus. Some of the men and women living on the streets carried a much heavier burden than I did. “My family has a long history of serving and that isn’t about to change. We’re working to serve our veterans. Housing, ramps, food. We’re going to help.”

  The applause was deafening and I could feel sweat trickling down my neck. I swallowed and tried to focus on the teleprompter. Get through this and I’d be done. No more speeches. No more teleprompters.

  No more D.C. bullshit. Just good old-fashioned hard labor. A chance to do some real good.

  “And you get to help, too. That’s why you came, right? Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask you to roll up your sleeves and grab a shovel—though I won’t turn you away.” Chuckles filled the room and I wanted to slump against the podium. “There is no delicate way to put this, folks. We need your money. We need funding. As much as you can give so that we can give back to those in need of some compassion. And just so you don’t think I’m asking something of you that I wouldn’t do myself, here’s my check.”

  Reaching into my tuxedo jacket I pulled out the envelope that contained my donation. An aide ran forward with a box and I dropped it in the slot.

  “Now, let’s get back to dancing, eating, and enjoying this fantastic music!” I smiled as they all clapped, bowing my head toward the orchestra as they started playing once again.

  “Thank the fuck that is over,” I whispered under my breath. If I never gave another speech it would be too soon.

  “Well, if I don’t win the presidency, it’s comforting to know that another Simmon will occupy the White House eventually.” My mother wrapped her arms around me and kissed my cheek.

  “You better win, because that was my last public speech.” I gritted my teeth and looked for a way to escape my mother.

  “Oh, hush. You’re exactly what this country needs.” She let her arms drop and stepped back to look up at me. “What do you think I’ve been grooming you for?”

  “I don’t think you should be grooming anyone.” I smiled down at her. “Not even a poodle.”

  “Are we really going to do this right now? Remember who you are, Jake.” My mother’s eyes glittered angrily at me.

  “Hey, Jake, would you mind walking me to the bar? Senator Franklin is over there and he’s a bit handsy.” Maddie smiled at me before turning her bright attention toward my mother. “Madam Vice President, you won’t mind if I steal your son away for a few minutes, will you?”

  “Of course not.” My mother smiled at Maddie before turning to look back at me. “The rules are still the same, Jake.”

  “Geez. I forgot what a witch she could be.” Maddie’s voice dropped as she slipped her hand through my arm and turned us toward the bar. “The rules are still the same, Jake.” She parroted my mother’s words perfectly. “What does that even mean? Do you really need to be reminded to brush your teeth still?”

  “We drink to be social not to be drunk.” I leaned down so I could say the words quietly. That was the truth, but not all of it. My mother was more than okay with me working with Maddie if it gave her the President’s support, but I wasn’t to be involved with her in any other way. Maddie was not a suitable companion in my mother’s opinion.

  “Ah. We have several of those rules as well,” she sighed.

  “I remember . . .”

  “I bet.” Her little nose wrinkled as she frowned.

  “Maddie, save me a dance?” Jason Franks placed a hand on her shoulder and I noticed the way her eyes tightened.

  “I’ll try to find you,” she replied. As soon as he moved away she rolled her eyes and I had a feeling that she wouldn’t be looking for him too hard.

  “That was one of your rules, wasn’t it? A dance at every function?”

  “Yes.” Her voice took on a pained tone. “I hate those damn rules.”

  “I’m happy to help out,” I offered.

  “Always the shining knight.” She laughed softly. I looked at Maddie from the corner of my eye as we moved through the crowd, smiling at people. In the sea of black tuxedos and form-fitting dresses she looked like a bohemian fairy princess. The champagne-colored fabric hung from one shoulder and the loose material barely hinted at her lithe form. Her light brown curls were pinned to one side of her head and she was wearing the barest amount of makeup.

  I was reminded of the time I’d had to go to her high school’s performance of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. She’d played the Fairy Queen Titania and it’d been the first time I’d really noticed she was beautiful. Now I could imagine her flitting between trees in a dreamlike glen, petting bunnies or something. Maddie didn’t fit in here. She was a breath of fresh air amongst all of the tight-fisted, self-important people filling the ballroom. Surrounded by political sharks was the last place she belonged.

  “Do I have something in my teeth?” She glanced in my direction as we skirted some of the dancers.

  “What?” I signaled to the bartender when we escaped the crowd.

  “You’re looking at me funny.” She touched her mouth. “It’s broccoli, right? I knew that vegetable tray was a bad idea.”

  “The dress is beautiful,” I admitted before I could think better of it.

  “Oh. Phoebe picked it out.” She looked down at her dress and brushed the skirt. Color filled her cheeks. “My stepmother hates it, which is a big plus.”

  “It’s not just the dress.” I cocked my head to the side. “You’ve grown up while I was away. You don’t look like a stork anymore.”

  “A stork? Geez, thanks.” She scrunched her nose and snorted before leaning forward peering at my face. “You’re only a couple of years older than I am, you know.”

  “Can’t I give you a compliment?” I frowned but motioned to an open table and pulled a chair out for her.

  “No, Jake Simmon doesn’t give me compliments. That would upset the balance of the universe.” She leaned back in her chair and took the glass of wine the bartender presented. “The Jake Simmon I know would have pointed out that my hair looked like a bird’s nest and how it matched my stork legs.”

  “I’m not the same Jake Simmon.” I tried to not cringe. Did she really remember me as such an asshole? I’d kept her at arm’s length when we were teenagers, but I didn’t remember being a bully.

  She looked up at me with a frank expression, her eyes traveling over my face. One side of her mouth pulled down in a delicate frown. “I suppose you aren’t.”

  Her eyes seemed to look right through me, touching upon my darkest secrets. Did she know about
my friends dying? That I’d been conscious the entire time I was trapped under the helicopter, listening to my friends scream in pain? Did she realize I’d been too weak to save them? Not a skilled enough pilot to save us all?

  They’d all died and I was sitting at a gala drinking alcohol like the world was perfect. They were dead while I shook hands and posed for pictures. That deep hole in my chest opened up and I tried to push it away but that didn’t work. I could feel my heartbeat picking up and I decided to try and fill the hole rather than ignore it.

  I gulped down the last of the chardonnay before signaling for a beer. “Do you want something else?”

  Awkwardness filled the air for a moment before she answered.

  “Nah. I’m a lightweight.” Her cheeks turned pink. She lifted her full glass and shook her head. “The last time I drank wine I broke into a pharmaceutical testing company and ended up in handcuffs. Not my brightest moment.”

  “We’ve all had a few of those moments.” I settled into a comfortable position, glad that she hadn’t shut me out or started probing my sore spots.

  “Really? I can’t imagine you doing anything that stupid.” She chuckled before taking another sip of her drink.

  “At boot camp there was a drill sergeant that was a total pain in the ass. Not the normal drill sergeant crazy. The kind that made us contemplate killing him and hiding his body in a swamp. I think he was even worse because of my family.” I nodded at the waiter when he set my beer down next to me. “He was a weird guy. You know how some people can’t go without their phone or ChapStick? He was obsessed with his deodorant. After getting drunk one night I had a brilliant idea.”

  “You did?” She smirked.

  “Don’t sound so surprised.” I laughed. “One of my care packages contained a roll-on stick of muscle relaxer. Peeling the stickers off was so easy.” I pulled the label off my beer and shredded it. “Switching them was even easier. He couldn’t put his arms down for days.”

  She winced and crossed her arms as if she could imagine it happening to her. “Did you get caught?”

  “I was too drunk to remember that my name was written on the bottom of the bottle in black marker.” I laughed. “I spent the next day hungover and scrubbing all of the company’s vehicles with my toothbrush.”

  Her smile highlighted her eyes in a nice way. “Still, not exactly a felony.”

  “True.” I tipped back the beer bottle. “Maybe that’ll change hanging out with you.”

  “I can’t promise a felony, but maybe a lawsuit. All of those nail guns just lying around waiting for me to trip on them.” She looked away from our table, focusing on the people dancing.

  I set my beer down and looked over to where the couples twirled. “Is your boyfriend over there? The one that made you cry?”

  “You plan on ratting me out if he is?” She looked back at me and frowned. Ah, so she was still angry that I’d told about that rat bastard Nate and his plan to get in her pants. “And no. A politician is the last person I would want to date.”

  “And what kind of person are you looking for?” I nodded at a congressman that waved in our direction. “A hippie? Astronaut? Someone in Greenpeace?”

  “I don’t have time for that sort of stuff.” Her eyebrows pulled together and nose wrinkled. I had the oddest urge to reach over and smooth the tiny lines out.

  “Too busy saving the world?” I raised an eyebrow.

  “You’re one to be talking.” She snorted and set her mostly full glass on the table. Her hand shook just a little and I wondered what had made her jumpy. “So, you think I’m into Greenpeace guys. What’s your cup of tea, Jake? Athletic? Movie stars? Fake boobs?”

  “You forgot theater girls, goth chicks, and girls with Daddy problems.” I tipped my drink in her direction. I still couldn’t get the image of her as a Fairy Queen out of my head.

  “I should have known.” She chuckled and lowered her eyelashes. “You love to play the hero.”

  “At least I didn’t date any political children. Did you date anyone that wasn’t a D.C. brat?”

  “I’ve sampled the buffet.” Her cheeks pinked, but her eyes didn’t leave mine. “But I tend to steer clear of people in the limelight. I’ve got enough of that as it is.”

  “You’re saying you like regular boys.”

  “The Yin to my Yang.” Her smile grew. “Something to balance out the crazy.”

  “And do you have a lot of time for dating, Maddie?” I looked around the room before letting my eyes drift back to the woman in front of me.

  She snorted. “No. Not at all.”

  “All work and no play, huh? What are you majoring in again? I don’t think they have a degree in saving the world.”

  “Sure they do. Environmental Science.” She took a sip of her drink. “With a focus on sustainability.”

  “Sustainability? Like farming?”

  “Sure. Water, energy, food sources.”

  “Sounds like you need a cape or something to go with that degree.”

  “I’ll get to pick one out at graduation.”

  “That’s soon, isn’t it?”

  She nodded her head. “One more year and I get my official adult card.”

  “And you’re stuck spending your last summer vacation with me.” For some reason I didn’t understand that thought brought a smile to my face.

  “Lucky me, huh?” She chuckled.

  “This is nice.” I chuckled and gestured to our table. She’d provided a nice distraction from the tension gripping my shoulders.

  “The fund-raiser?” She looked around the room in confusion.

  “I meant talking. I don’t remember the last time we’ve sat down and talked.” I leaned back in my chair. That wasn’t true exactly. The last time had been yelling and hollering, not talking.

  She stared at me with wide eyes. Silence fell between us and I felt the need to fill it.

  “I mean, you’re one of the few people that gets how lame this scene can be.” I gestured at the air. “You can relate to all this crazy.”

  “We haven’t, not really.” I almost didn’t hear her over the people around us.

  “What?”

  “You said you couldn’t remember the last time we sat down and talked.” She cleared her throat and met my gaze. “We’ve never really sat down and talked. We’ve yelled at each other but never really talked.”

  “Sure we have.” I shrugged uncomfortably.

  “No, we haven’t.” Her lips curved slightly. “We’ve only ever talked when we had to for campaigns or press functions. Otherwise we stood next to each other for pictures or you made fun of what I was wearing.”

  “That’s not right.” I scratched at my collar. “We’ve talked.”

  “No, we haven’t, but you were right about one thing.” She cocked her head to the side and her smile grew.

  “What was that?” I leaned forward, enjoying the way her smile lit up her eyes.

  “It would be nice to have a friend to relate to.” She looked around the room and her smile faltered. “Not a lot of people understand what it means to be us and the things we have to put up with.”

  “No, not really.” I looked over my shoulder to see what had distracted Maddie.

  The human version of Barbie was headed in our direction and most of the male heads in the room turned to follow. Her red dress was painted on, making her fake blond hair glow. The way her hips swayed in the mile-high heels had drawn more than its fair share of attention. “Ronnie.” Maddie looked at the woman, her features perfectly schooled into boredom.

  “Maddie, it’s good to see you.” The woman leaned forward and mimed kissing Maddie’s cheek. “You look absolutely darling. That dress is very sweet.”

  I might be a guy, but there was no missing that back-handed compliment, even if I disagreed. Where this Ronnie woman flaunted her curves, the way Maddie’s dress merely teased at them was just as sexy.

  “Thank you, Ronnie. So many people show up to these things dressed like
prostitutes.” Maddie ran her eyes over the other woman and tsked. “But the theme does suit you.”

  “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?” Ronnie turned toward me, obviously done pretending to be nice.

  “Oh, how rude of me.” The scorn in Maddie’s voice was unmistakable. “Jake, this is Ronnie something-or-another from the Vox station. She attempts to report stories she thinks are real and a lot that aren’t real. Ronnie, this is Jake Simmon, the Vice President’s oldest son, which you obviously had no idea about.”

  “Veronica Whitmire. It’s an honor to meet you, Jake.” She held her hand out and I shook it gently. “You’re a true hero.”

  “The pleasure is mine.” I tried to ignore the way she squeezed my hand.

  “You’ve had an excellent turn-out tonight.” She sat down in the chair next to Maddie and leaned forward. “It was an excellent speech.”

  “Thank you.” I smiled and looked over at Maddie. She was watching Ronnie with thinly veiled distaste. I looked back at the blonde and wondered what I was missing.

  “Are you looking for something in particular, Ronnie?” Maddie narrowed her eyes. “A quote maybe?”

  “Sure. A quote would be great but a dance would be even better.” She smiled at me from under her lashes.

  “Uh, I owe Maddie a dance, but then I’m free.” I took another sip of my drink and looked over the reporter. I was rusty, but she was definitely hitting on me.

  “Sorry, but my dance card is full.” Maddie picked up her glass and smiled at Veronica. “Jason Franks and I have some things to talk about. And I promised Leo that I’d dance with him as well. Which means Richard Tanner will expect a dance.”

  Frowning, I focused on Maddie. “Jason? Senator Franks’s son? The man whore?”

  “Sadly, it’s a common trait amongst politicians’ sons.” She tucked her purse under her arm. Ouch. I was pretty sure that barb had been meant for me. “You know how it is. Politics makes for interesting bedmates. I’ll see you at the construction site.”

  She turned and left our table without looking back. Franks’s face lit up like he had won the lottery and I frowned. Had she meant that they were screwing? Or just that she was putting up with him for some political gain? But the Maddie I remembered never played political games. Was it that she hated me so much that she’d rather be groped by that bastard? I’d always given her an out when it came to the dancing. She’d always seemed horrified by the rule and it’d been a simple thing to take her for a spin on the dance floor.