by Laura Hayden
And very well prepared, thanks to the intensive sessions the Virginia staff conducted, bringing Maggie up to speed on the party line, the current rhetoric, and the opposition. Even better, Maggie could be just a bit more open in her disdain for Mark Henderson’s infidelities than Emily could. Maggie could mouth the words that Emily couldn’t. Maggie and her husband, Pete Shaiyne, were living examples of how a couple suffering infertility problems could deal with the situation effectively. The Shaiynes’ solutions covered the natal spectrum. They had one birth son, one adoptive daughter, and a set of fraternal twins, thanks to in vitro fertilization.
“Just be glad she’s not bringing the kids. The last time the brood performed for the reporters, a food fight broke out. It made great copy, but a number of innocent bystanders took hits. Wet zweiback at twenty paces is not a pretty sight.” Kate glanced at her watch. “I need to make a ten o’clock meeting at a place called Bagel Mike. Is it within walking distance?”
“Not particularly. But I have a volunteer with a car standing by to take you anywhere you need to go.”
Said volunteer was Meredith, a bright-eyed coed from the University of New Hampshire who struggled against her better manners and obvious instructions to “not bug the higher-ups” and finally asked permission to ask just one question as they negotiated traffic.
Kate hid her smile. “Sure. Shoot.”
It took the girl a few seconds to come up with the words for the question she was trying to formulate. Then she finally said, “What’s in it for you?”
Kate had pegged the girl as just another dewy-eyed college volunteer helping the tides of democracy flow. Evidently she was wrong. This one was a thinker.
“Off the record . . . I could give you the usual song and dance about wanting what’s best for America and knowing that former Governor Benton is the best candidate. Now, all that’s true, but there’s more. On some level, it’s a power trip of sorts.”
“That’s a lot more honesty than I expected.” The girl remained silent for a moment, then said, “If I could ask you a second question?”
Kate was curious to see where this would go. “Sure,” she said.
“What kind of power trip?”
Kate made a mental note to learn more about this Meredith. “On a good day, I hope I’m actually shaping history for the better. On a bad day, I feel the same way. I help make Emily’s success possible and history still gets shaped for the better. Anytime I can anticipate what’s coming toward us better than the consultants we hire do, I win. Anytime I can accurately forecast the actions of an opponent and help Emily come into a situation prepared for their volley or their rebuttal, I win. And when I win, Emily wins. If Emily wins, in my opinion, we all win. And that’s why I do it.”
“So winning is the key.”
“Absolutely. This is politics. Losers never even get in the door of the White House. I’m just as competitive as Governor Benton is, but I don’t necessarily want the ultimate prize of the Oval Office for myself. I just want to see the right person behind that desk.”
“But there is a prize for you, eventually, right? It’s not like you’re a hired gun or something like that. You’ve been with Ms. Benton for . . . like . . . forever. What sort of prize does that sort of loyalty win? I’ve studied you. You’re smart. Maybe smarter than she is. You could run yourself. Why do you do all this for her instead of for yourself?”
“I know Emily—better than anyone else in the world knows her.” Kate shrugged. “So I know she’s the very best candidate out there, hands down. Far better than I could ever be. She’s driven. I’m not. She’s prepared all her life for this goal. I haven’t. That’s why I do it. She’ll make the best possible president. As for my consolation prize, we’ll see.”
“White House chief of staff?”
Kate figured there’d been enough honesty in the car. “We’ll see,” she said. Although she’d uttered the necessary phrase off the record, she was pretty sure young Meredith was fishing for something to go on the record with. Smart kid—Kate promised herself she’d keep an eye on the girl. But they reached the bagel shop before the young woman could press harder and ask any further questions.
After stopping at the curb, Meredith held out a small business card to Kate. “When you’re ready to leave, just call my cell. I’ll stay in the general area.”
“Thanks for taking care of me.” Kate accepted the card with a smile. “But I’ll probably catch a cab to go back to the hotel and work from there. So don’t hang around on my account.”
The young woman almost managed to hide her crestfallen look. “All right. Nice to meet you.”
“Thanks for the ride.”
“You’re welcome. And, Ms. Rosen? If you do become the chief of staff, I sure would like to apply for a position as a White House aide. I think I could be an asset to you. You have my contact info there.”
Kate tucked the card into her day planner. “Thanks.” After a brief hesitation, she added, “I’ll keep this for the future. I promise.”
A blast of icy wind hit her as she climbed out of the car, making her hurry to the restaurant door. Once inside, she didn’t see Nick at first and wondered belatedly if the message had been nothing more than a setup. But she finally spotted him in a booth in the rear of the restaurant, where he was studiously reading a USA Today. He didn’t look up until she got within feet of his table.
In any given situation—and that included the audience at the Oscars—Nick was usually the best-looking man in the room. Today was no exception. Although she hadn’t seen him face-to-face in seven or so years, she’d seen the pictures. He’d changed very little. These days he had a slight amount of premature silver peppered through his dark hair at the temples. The combination of that and the light laugh lines now in evidence around his eyes served to add a hint of respectability to his traditional bad-boy good looks. Today he wore a dark turtleneck beneath a tweed jacket, looking like every coed’s dream professor.
“K.” He stood, ever the Southern gentleman when it came to manners. When it came to morals, Kate knew, he’d had a tougher time toeing the line. “Good to see you,” he said. Leaning forward for an air kiss, he adapted quickly to her backward step, accepting the hand she stuck out instead.
Nick was the only person other than Emily to use her friend’s pet nickname for her, and Kate found that uncomfortable. But she was curious about why he had contacted her. She wasn’t going to call him on the bad habit until she found out why he wanted to see her.
Nick remained standing until she slid into the opposite side of the booth.
“I appreciate your coming. I wasn’t sure if you would or not.”
She shrugged. “Curiosity overrode my better instincts.”
He shot her a boyish grin that she remembered all too well. “That’s exactly how I felt when Chuck Talbot approached me. I’m sure you know all about that. You’ve got more listening posts than the DMZ in South Korea.”
“Of course I do. That’s one of my many skills. You’re going to be named the new deputy campaign manager right after the primary. Congratulations.”
He whistled. “News may travel fast, but rumor travels even faster. I’m pretty sure no one has figured that out other than you and Emily. The media certainly hasn’t tumbled onto it yet. But nothing ever did escape your attention. I shouldn’t be surprised.”
She decided to take the remark as a compliment, whether he meant it that way or not. “Let’s dispense with the small talk, shall we? Exactly why did you want to meet with me, Nick?”
He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Because I wanted to draw up some ground rules for the upcoming months.”
She studied his face, looking for the joke or the joker that had to be hiding there after a statement like that. Nick looked perfectly serious, which probably meant he’d taken up poker since she’d last seen him. “You know as well as I do that there are no ground rules in politics.”
“There should be. You and I are a lot more alike
than you know.”
Utilizing a lesson she learned too late to do Emily any good, Kate made eye contact with Nick Beaudry and held it. His sincere facade wouldn’t necessarily crack under unrelenting scrutiny, but it would crumble a bit. Kate had been able to make Nick twitch there at the end of his relationship with Emily. But this time, he held her gaze without turning away and without the slightest tic.
Hmm, she decided, at least he thinks he’s telling the truth.
“I give.” She leaned back into the booth’s cushioning and crossed her arms. “How are we alike?”
The answer had to wait. A waitress interrupted them to take their order. Kate didn’t even look at a menu but kept her gaze on Nick and her arms crossed. “Plain bagel, toasted; light cheese if you have it, regular if not; and black coffee.”
Nick shot the waitress a thousand-watt smile. “I’ll have the same but with cream and sugar.”
Thus informed, the woman scurried away.
He tried that same high-powered smile on Kate. “Same as always. You know, I would have ordered for you, but I couldn’t be sure your tastes were the same.”
“Lots of things have changed,” she said, keeping her poker face. “Maybe even me.”
“Possibly.”
“In any case, I don’t think either of us has changed so much that we have anything in common.”
“Other than Emily, you mean?” Nick leaned forward. “Cards on the table, K. We both know where the bodies are buried, but neither of us really wants to use that knowledge.”
Kate felt the muscles in her back stiffen. She wondered if Nick really did know just how much she knew. But she put that thought away. Then she made her expression carefully nondescript. “Is that a threat?”
Nick pulled back. “Absolutely not. Not a threat or a veiled hint or even an innuendo. That’s the point. I don’t intend to use any insider knowledge I have of Emily to disrupt your campaign or cause her any personal grief.” His face colored slightly. “I think I’ve done enough damage to her in the past. I have no desire to compound that error.”
A kinder, gentler Nick Beaudry. Inconceivable. . . . In fact, Kate thought, impossible.
“You don’t believe me.” He ducked his head, then looked up with a blushing smile that took a decade off his face. “I can’t say that I blame you. Not with my track record.”
“Your track record speaks for itself. I have one or two good reasons not to believe you. Emily has dozens.”
He nodded, then rested his arms against the table and laced his fingers together. “That’s a conservative total. Between you and me, I gave her hundreds of reasons to never talk to me again, much less to ever trust me. But back then I was young, stupid, and full of myself. I listened to the wrong people and ignored the right ones.” His expression softened. “Anything I could possibly do wrong, I did.”
Kate stared at him, suddenly seeing the man Emily had fallen in love with, the person Kate had once called a friend. “I won’t disagree with you. You had a great thing going and you screwed it up. Badly. But now you say you’ve changed? When? Why?”
He shrugged. “It’d be nice if I could point to a specific time and say on that particular day, at that specific hour, something radical happened to me and I made a miraculous change overnight. But both of us know that’s much too convenient. Guilt takes a long time to eat away at you. What it leaves behind is overwhelming regret. The only way to get rid of regret is to confront the problem and ask for forgiveness.”
The light dawned. Nick had been busy doing more than politicking. “AA?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “That and more.”
“Like what?”
His blush returned, deeper than before. “Honestly? Religion.”
“You found God? You found God?” Her words were edged with disbelief but not for the church. Only for him and the timing of his highly convenient conversion.
“Hard to believe, eh?” A distant look clouded Nick’s eyes and his grin faded. “You should hear my older brothers start in on me. If I can’t make them understand, I know I can’t make Emily. But I was hoping that you would at least listen to me.” He closed his eyes, then opened them, focusing on Kate. “That’s why I texted you. And you came, K. I really appreciate it.”
It was a lot to digest. Even harder to believe. “So let me get this straight. You’re going to work as Talbot’s deputy campaign manager, but you’re not going to offer up any of Emily’s deep, dark secrets against her at the strategy table. And you’re doing all this because you found religion.”
“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong. I’ll use what I know about her personality, her hot buttons, her fears, when her pride goeth, and when it doesn’t. But I will not—and this is my solemn promise—will not in any way use my knowledge of any Benton family skeletons—”
The waitress popped up with the food just in time to hear the word skeletons. By her quizzical look, she had no idea who they were or what they were actually talking about, but they’d snagged her attention.
Nick shot the woman a heart-stopping grin and shook his head. “Sorry about that, ma’am. Crime scene investigation over breakfast—we ought to know better.” He turned to Kate. “So how’s that autopsy going? Have you received the remains yet? They should have arrived in at least three boxes.”
The waitress retreated fast, both fascinated and repulsed.
“One thing hasn’t changed,” Kate said once the woman was out of hearing range. “You’re still incorrigible.” She couldn’t keep from returning his grin.
“Ah, but forgiven.”
She studied his features. If Nick’s claims were true, then he ought to look different, Kate decided. But other than the gentle signs of aging, he appeared just the same. He had the same tendency to a five-o’clock shadow at 10 a.m., the same quick wit, an obvious affinity to women, the same charm. . . .
But religion? Faith? A relationship with Jesus?
She examined his face harder, searching for an insincere light in his eyes, a crack in his earnest expression, anything that would support the idea that Nicholas Beaudry was pulling yet another fast one on her. Seeing nothing, and not sure what to think, she picked up their interrupted conversation.
“Back to what you were saying. Please define ‘Benton family skeletons.’”
He looked around. “Here? Now? The walls have ears.”
Inside, she cheered. She’d called his bluff. “For a man who won’t give specifics, you talk a big game.”
“But the point is—it won’t matter what I know and what I don’t know. As far as my participation in this campaign goes, it won’t be a mudslinging competition. Chuck is pretty ironclad about that. That’s one of the reasons why I respect him as a man as well as a candidate.”
If you knew what I know . . .
Charles Talbot had been making a big deal in the press about his desire to run a clean, positive campaign. Then again, he did have his party’s nomination all but sewn up. It’d been awfully easy for him to “play it clean” up to this point, since he had no real competition he needed to throw mud at. However, once Emily became his competition on the other side of the aisle, Kate was sure his tune would change.
Desperation did that to a person.
Kate suddenly realized the bigger implications of their little talk and she couldn’t help but smile, which seemed to pique Nick’s curiosity.
“What?” he prompted.
“Now I get it.” She covered her mouth as if suppressing a giggle. “Talbot won’t come right out and say it, but he knows Emily is going to win the party nomination and run against him. Please thank him for me . . . for his faith in her campaign.”
Nick shrugged. “We do figure she has a better chance than everybody else. Henderson was her real competition. Now with him gone, all she has to do is not screw up, and she’ll get enough delegates to win the nomination. He thinks she’s got it in the bag.”
“Of course Talbot thinks that; he’s running unopposed. He’s had it easy so far. But
it’s different for us. Even with Henderson out of the picture, there are five, maybe six real contenders still in the party backfield. Emily and I can’t go into the end-zone victory dance anytime soon.”
He sighed dramatically. “I love it when you talk football analogies.” He pointed to her bagel. “Better eat that before it gets cold.”
She closed her eyes, whispered a quick grace, and then took a bite, not to oblige him but to slake her hunger. How long, she wondered, had it been since she stopped to eat?
When she looked at him, his head was still bowed. A moment later, he opened his eyes, blushed slightly again, and grabbed a spoon to stir his coffee. “Okay. House rules: No politics while we eat, due to indigestion and all that. You look like you could stand to finish a few meals. We keep our opinions to ourselves while we eat. Agreed?”
What the heck? she thought. But why not play along? “Agreed.”
“Want some of the newspaper?” He nudged the entertainment section of the USA Today across the table and picked up the sports section for himself. “If we decide to talk about it, no front page, no business section. Just the fun parts. Okay?”
Kate kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. But it never did. As they ate, they made innocuous comments on their individual sections—dissecting both the Saints’ and the Redskins’ seasons. Sports had always been a safe subject for them during the tumultuous years of his marriage to Emily. With Kate playing third wheel more often than she wanted, at least she and Nick found harmless common ground in their mutual interest in football. They’d even developed a friendly rivalry thanks to their divergent team choices.
In fact, the day after the Big Breakup, when he’d been arrested for DUI, Nick had actually called Kate. Whether it was for sympathy, for bail money, or what, she never knew. Out of loyalty to Emily, she’d hung up on him.
She drained her coffee.
“Want another cup? Our waitress is right over there.”
“No thanks. I need to get back to work. New Hampshire isn’t a done deal for us.” She paused, then added, “Yet.”