Georgetown Academy, Season One

by Schwartz, Alyssa Embree

  “Marilyn can’t touch your executive experience, Alan,” her father was saying to Taryn’s father as Maria, their live-in housekeeper, topped off his glass of Barbaresco. “And it won’t take much to highlight to the president, and to the media for that matter, how your success as a governor overshadows anything she’s accomplished as a senator.”

  It made Brinley nauseous to hear her father kiss up to Taryn’s father. The whole Reyes family was so painfully nouveau, but it was like she was the only Madison who could see it. Her mother had spent the entire evening chatting away with Isobel like they were sorority sisters even though she must have been incredibly distracted by the tight-fitting Missoni dress Isobel was wearing. And then there were Brooks and Taryn, who were clearly engaging in some kind of flirtation and not doing a very good job at hiding it. Though Brinley had tried to tell herself her brother would never be into someone who looked at Nicole Richie as a fashion icon, it was becoming brutally clear he liked Taryn. And don’t even get Brinley started on Ryland Reyes. What kind of name was Ryland? It didn’t make any sense. It was like a made up word a toddler blurts out. And Ryland might only be eleven, but with his overgrown shaggy hair, Brinley could already picture him attending Berkeley, wearing a hemp necklace and protesting capitalism while he made it a point to only shower once a week.

  “And it won’t go unnoticed to the president that Marilyn has a few enemies on the Hill,” Thomas continued. “Each and every feud she’s had with Richard Mills is like a pristinely wrapped gift she’s bestowed on us.”

  Us. Her father was good. He made it sound like he and Alan were already working together so the idea would subconsciously seep into Alan’s brain. Hopefully, it wouldn’t work, though. Brinley hadn’t told Ellie yet about her father’s possible involvement in the V.P. campaign because she was crossing her fingers Alan wouldn’t hire him. Though even if he did, it wasn’t her friendship with Ellie she was stressed about. Yes, it would be an awkward situation with their parents having opposite agendas, but one that happened every election cycle and wasn’t uncommon among friends at Georgetown Academy. As long as her father didn’t pull anything shady as he’d done in the past, she and Ellie would be fine. And Brinley had a feeling Alan Reyes would not put up with anything shady. The guy seemed so honest he probably paid a higher tax rate than his secretary. What bothered Brinley a lot more about this little situation was it put her on the same side as Taryn Reyes, whom she had painstakingly tried to avoid since day one.

  “Honey, we can’t spend the entire meal talking about politics,” Katherine purred to Thomas.

  Brinley and Brooks exchanged a look from across the table. Only they knew this comment was part of a perfectly choreographed dance between their parents whenever they had a potential client’s family over for dinner. Her mother could happily talk politics all night, but right now, it was just as important for them to appeal to the family man in Alan Reyes. Since her father was aggressively talking about the job, it was up to Katherine to balance out the rest of the conversation. And if Thomas’s clients had children, it meant Brooks and Brinley were often enlisted to play their parts as well, befriending them and subtly grooming them in whatever capacity her father felt appropriate. Under normal circumstances, Brinley enjoyed being involved in her father’s cases. However, it looked like Brooks was picking up the slack for her tonight as he could barely look at anything at the table besides Taryn.

  “How are you liking Georgetown Academy, Taryn?” her mother asked, carefully maintaining a soft quality to her usually formal voice.

  “It was a little bumpy at first,” Taryn answered, throwing a surreptitious glance toward Brinley. She was obviously referring to the rumor Brinley started, but Brinley shot her a pointed look back, raising her eyebrows in exaggerated innocence. “But I try not to get too wrapped up in all the drama and school politics. I think the people who do are either really insecure or really bored with their own lives.”

  Brooks, sitting next to Taryn, stifled a laugh and Brinley almost threw her crystal water glass at him.

  “You’re probably right. That’s a very mature attitude to take,” Katherine answered while Alan and Isobel beamed at their special snowflake, Taryn. Unbelievable. It was like Brinley’s entire family had been brainwashed by these hippies. She was starting to consider doing something highly embarrassing that would make Alan not want to hire her father, but the wrath that she would incur from her parents deterred her from further exploring that option.

  Just then, the doorbell rang, the sound echoing through the house. Maria, who had begun clearing the dinner plates, moved to answer it.

  “I’ll get it, Maria,” Brinley said hastily, jumping up from her handcrafted oak upholstered chair.

  “Thank you, Brin,” her father said then turned to the others. “Sorry for the interruption. I forgot to sign some paperwork before I left the office.”

  Brinley couldn’t leave the table fast enough and resisted the urge to escape into her room for the rest of the night. Or to at least check her phone for a text from Shane. Instead, though, she threw open the front door to find an attractive college-age guy who looked vaguely familiar. He had a square, chiseled jaw, deep-set brown eyes and eyebrows that naturally pointed downward like he was thoughtfully considering something. His medium-length blond hair curled a little above his forehead, giving it a beachy look. He was wearing a perfectly tailored Jil Sander charcoal suit with a white shirt and no tie, but he looked like one of those guys who could easily be standing shirtless outside an Abercrombie & Fitch store.

  “Hey,” he said with a smile. He was a few inches shy of six feet, but he was oozing with a confidence that made him seem much taller.

  It suddenly clicked who he was. Patrick Stone, her father’s new intern and an old family friend of theirs since before she was born. Her dad and his dad had been fraternity brothers at Yale. Brinley had seen Patrick bustling around Thomas’s office a few times from afar since he’d begun working there this past October for election season.

  “Brinley, right?”

  “Yes. Good to see you, Patrick.” She smiled and opened the door wider. He stepped in, a thick file under his arm.

  “How’s your family? Are they still up in Connecticut?” she asked as he followed her toward the dining room.

  “They’ve got the house in Westport, but they’ve been spending more time at their place in Manhattan. My dad’s raising a new equity fund.”

  “I hope he’s investing in small businesses. You know they’re the lifeblood of this country,” she replied resolutely.

  “I couldn’t agree more,” he said as they entered the dining room. Her father stood, taking the file from Patrick.

  “Thank you for dropping this off so late. This is my most capable intern, Patrick Stone,” her father said by way of introduction to the rest of the table. “He’s turning out to be quite the protégé.”

  Brooks bristled from across the table as Thomas proudly patted Patrick on the back. Patrick gave him an almost perfect, faux-humble smile Brinley instantly recognized as the one she herself used in similar situations.

  “Brooks, you two must have run into each other at my office once or twice,” her father said, oblivious to the annoyed look Brooks was throwing Patrick’s way.

  “I don’t think so. I don’t usually interact a lot with the interns,” Brooks answered condescendingly.

  Patrick’s didn’t seem ruffled, though. “It’s been a while. I don’t think we’ve seen each other since our families took that trip to the Caymans together when we were younger.”

  “Mmmm,” Brooks murmured apathetically in response.

  “What was that? Five years ago? I remember I used to beat you up to impress girls. Sorry about that, Brooks.” Patrick definitely did not sound sorry as he continued to smile.

  “I don’t recall that happening,” Brooks answered tightly, the vein above his temple popping out ever so slightly. Brinley had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Patrick was clearly not b
acking down after the intern slight. Looks like Brooks had met his match.

  “Yeah, I think I might have given you a black eye. And I remember something with your nose—”

  “No hard feelings,” Brooks interrupted, refusing to glance in Taryn’s direction. He was probably worried she was imagining him getting his butt kicked, which of course, would make him appear less attractive to her. Hopefully, he was right and the annoying flirtation between them would mercifully end. Brinley would seriously owe Patrick one.

  Patrick, now sporting a slight smirk of victory after his sparring match with Brooks, turned back to her father. “I’ll let you all get back to dinner. Nice to see you, Brinley.”

  She smiled at him, and as he left the room, she noticed her parents exchange a quick conspiratorial look. Had they set this Patrick drop-in up for her benefit? It wouldn’t be that surprising considering her mother had presented her with a laminated binder just last week filled with acceptable dating prospects from every prominent family in the area. Patrick would definitely fit right in with the group her mother had hand selected. Or maybe Brinley was just being paranoid since she knew how much they would disapprove of Shane. At the thought of Shane and his non-text-back, she slumped down in her chair. Maria entered and laid mini chocolate soufflés in front of them. Thank god they were on the last course.

  “This was a terrific idea, Thomas. Thank you for having us,” Alan said sincerely.

  “And you have such a lovely home,” Isobel added. “It has such an interesting aura.”

  Katherine bristled ever so slightly, but quickly covered with a demure smile. Isobel was going to have to keep the crazy at bay if she wanted to live at One Observatory Circle. If she talked about auras to the media, she’d end up making Mormonism look mainstream.

  “It’s our pleasure,” Thomas answered while Katherine nodded amiably, crossing one perfectly manicured hand over the other.

  Alan leaned forward in his chair, placing both his elbows on the table. “I’m not really one to beat around the bush and since there is a bit of a ticking clock here…” Brinley willed him to stop talking as she inwardly cringed. She knew what was coming next. “I’d love to work with you on this, Thomas.”

  Brinley was the only Madison not wearing the family’s faux-humble victory smile.

  Brinley lay on her plush, gilded antique canopy bed, her favorite cashmere throw bundled over her petite frame as she palmed the peony-pink leather Prada case around her iPhone. She had talked to Ellie a few minutes ago and the conversation went as she had expected. Neither of them were thrilled her father had hopped on the Reyes bandwagon (especially Brinley), but it was hardly the end of the world. They had both lived in the center of politics for so long the conversation didn’t last more than five minutes before they launched into a discussion about how much it sucked Ellie couldn’t be with Gabe.

  And still no text from Shane. The unfamiliar feeling of rejection was biting at her like a swarm of mosquitoes.

  A light rapping at the door interrupted her thoughts. “Come in.”

  Brooks ambled in and took a seat on the tufted cream ottoman across from her bed at the exact moment that her phone chirped beside her. A text from Shane! Her pulse quickened as she looked down at it and carefully read the three words: Who is this?

  Brinley reddened. Here she was pining after this pathetic townie and he must have already deleted her number! Did he not realize he had hooked up with Brinley freaking Madison?

  “Who just texted you?” Brooks asked. “You look as depressed as you did after election night this year.”

  Before Brinley could respond, her phone beeped again. Kidding, Brinley. I’m good. You staying out of trouble?

  Oops. She exhaled. She hadn’t really meant he was pathetic.

  “It’s Graham drunk texting,” she lied easily, referring to her ex-boyfriend, who she had recently dumped after he cheated on her. She hadn’t told anyone, including Ellie, about Shane. Unfortunately, Brooks had figured it out in Stowe, which was not surprising, but as far as he knew, she had cut off all contact with Shane after the ski retreat. And considering he was still teasing her relentlessly about hooking up with a townie, she wasn’t about to admit she had reached out to him again.

  Brooks stretched his long legs out, casually resting his hands behind his head. “Pretty exciting about Dad and Alan Reyes, don’t you think?”

  Brinley barely registered the question because she was too busy trying to decide what to text back to Shane.

  Define trouble, she quickly typed back, trying to suppress the small smile that threatened to play on her lips and out her to Brooks.

  “Brinley?”

  “What?” she replied, finally looking up at him.

  “I was asking what you think about Dad working for Alan?”

  “I think it’s unfortunate I’m the only Madison who isn’t trying to get in with a Reyes right now,” she answered huffily.

  Brooks gave her a cool look. “What are you implying?”

  “Spare me the innocent act, Brooks. I’m much better at it than you. We both know for some godforsaken reason you’re into Taryn. I’m just hoping since you still haven’t asked her out that it’s part of some bigger scheme you haven’t clued me in on yet.”

  Her phone buzzed. Another text. It’s that thing that happens when a bunch of private schools from DC come to Stowe for a ski retreat.

  “I can assure you there’s not some bigger scheme.”

  “Then why didn’t you ask her out tonight?”

  “Dad asked me to hold off until Alan secured the job. You know how he feels about mixing business with pleasure.”

  “In that case, I hope POTUS takes years to decide on his V.P.”

  She looked back down at her phone and raced her fingers along the keypad. Please. You know we added a little excitement to your weekend.

  “Still texting Graham?” Brooks’s gaze fixed on her suspiciously, but she couldn’t help but look down when her phone vibrated with a fast response from Shane.

  At least one of you did.

  Her stomach gave a little flip and her shoulders naturally straightened from their slump as she cast off the feelings of rejection from moments ago. She may not have a clue what the point of communicating with Shane was, but there was no question now she was happy she had initiated the conversation.

  “Yes, Brooks. I have a lot of insults to hurl at him and one text is not sufficient. Now was there anything else I can do for you because I might die from boredom if I have to spend one more second of my night talking about a member of the Reyes family. Personally, I could care less if he wins or loses.” She was not going to let a discussion about Taryn ruin her flirxting session with Shane.

  “I think you might want to rethink your position on the Reyes family,” he said, straightening up on the ottoman with a more serious expression.

  “And why is that?”

  “Dad needs a win after the Gail Morris debacle,” Brooks said, referring to her father’s most recent client, a potential nominee for the Supreme Court, who had withdrawn her candidacy among a media firestorm, destroying her father’s well-known winning streak.

  What Brooks and her family didn’t know was that Brinley was partly to blame for the loss. Though in that case Gail’s son, Weston, had attempted to drug several girls, and his mother had helped him cover it up. Brinley had secretly brought the sordid truth to public light, and she still felt no guilt for doing so even though Gail Morris was her father’s client. Who knew how many other girls would now be saved from the lecherous ways of Weston Morris?

  “It’s not Daddy’s fault Weston is such a freak,” she said defiantly.

  “Maybe not,” Brooks replied. “But if another one of his clients loses so publicly, it’s not going to look good. It’ll chip away at his position in the city and you know who that trickles down to…” He gave her an imploring look.

  Me, Brinley suddenly realized, feeling such a sharp burst of surprise she almost gasped. She w
as so used to riding the wave of power and influence afforded to her from her family’s social status in this city, it had never occurred to her it could potentially all go away. A string of defeats would obviously knock her father from his perch as the most powerful political strategist in the country, casting him into the category of pathetic has-been consultants like Dick Morris and James Carville.

  Which, besides being completely humiliating for all the Madisons, would also diminish Brinley’s own power in this city. Her pulse raced as she contemplated a world where she wasn’t on the guest list for Ivanka Trump’s birthday party. Suddenly she felt three more stress pimples rear their ugly heads on her chin. Great. Just when she couldn’t get an appointment with Kim-Yee.

  Wait a second. What if Kim-Yee hadn’t rushed to fit her in when she called for her facial today because the Madison family stock had already started to plummet after Gail Morris’s withdrawal last weekend? If Kim-Yee was blowing her off after just a single loss of her father’s, what would happen after two? Brinley didn’t want to find out.

  She looked up to find Brooks waiting for her response.

  “You may have a point,” Brinley admitted. “I’ll root for Alan. But it will remain purely political. It hardly means I have to rethink my position on Taryn.”

  Brooks eyed her steadily. “You’re not seeing the big picture. If Marilyn wins and Ellie’s the one at One Observatory, obviously, you’re golden. But if it’s Taryn, you’ll be shut down in this town, Brin. It’s not a good idea to have the Second Daughter as your enemy.”

  After dating Graham, the son of the former vice president, she was painfully aware of all the perks that came with your father holding such a high office…and the ones that could be denied to anyone not in that inner circle.

  Brooks gave her a smug smile as he saw the realization settle in her eyes. “You see what I’m saying now?”