“Where’d you park?”
“Around back.”
Mark looked over her head and scanned the crowd, looking for the best way out. “Are you done? I told Ed we’d meet him at the house.”
“Sure.”
Mark held her coat up while Skye slid her arms inside. She clicked her pen closed and tucked it into the spiral binding of her notebook, then shoved it and her phone in her attaché case. Before Skye could sling the bag over her shoulder, Mark took it from her. With a guiding hand at her back, they moved through the crowd toward the stage and an exit.
At the Audi, Skye handed Mark his keys. He unlocked the car and held the door open for her, before rounding it and climbing in his side. He pulled out of the parking lot and glanced at Skye. She looked so serious. “You’re quiet. Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Of course.” Skye flashed him a bright smile and seemed to snap out of it. She turned in the passenger seat, one knee bent on the bucket seat facing him, while she tugged on her seatbelt for a little more space. “How was the family Christmas without your parents?”
“Weird. Different.”
“How long are they going to be in Singapore?”
“Another eight months or so. Dad committed to a full year as a visiting scientist, and he’s making some great connections for Aviva within the Singapore Stem Cell Consortium.”
“I was surprised they didn’t come back for the holidays.”
“Dad wanted to, but Mom was excited to experience Christmas in another country. She tried to convince us to go there, but David had to work and Serena didn’t want to be away from him at Christmas. I told them I’d try to get over there this summer.”
Maybe Skye could go with him during the summer. Her sister had been released from the hospital a week ago and continued to get stronger each day, and even though the twins weren’t home yet, they were making progress. Six months from now, her family wouldn’t need her as much.
He looked forward to introducing Skye to his parents. Mom especially. She’d love having another girl to fuss over and Skye, who’d lost her mother far too young, would soak up Mom’s attention.
“Sounds like fun. Did you enjoy your belated celebration with your family?”
“It was different. I wish you hadn’t had to work; everyone wants to meet you—particularly Serena. How was work?”
“Busy.”
He gave Skye a sharp look. “You okay? You seem distracted.”
“Yeah, just thinking.”
“You’re going to do fine. It’s just Ed. You’ve seen him in his robe. You can’t be nervous.”
“Surprisingly, that doesn’t make it any easier.” She looked away. “Just thinking of the perfect way to word a few questions.”
Mark wanted to pull over and hug her worries away, but given her tension and preoccupation, that probably wasn’t the best idea, so he kept driving. He covered her hands with his. “You’ll be great.”
“I just need to double-check a few things…” She reached into her attaché, pulled out her phone and notepad, and frowned. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“No. Go ahead.”
Twenty minutes later, they pulled in the driveway leading to the Hastings’s brick Tudor. When he came to a stop, Mark put a hand on Skye’s arm to still her, giving her a silent message to wait for him. He liked taking care of her, but she often needed to be reminded to let him do little things for her.
Mark hurried around the car and opened her door. He pulled Skye into his arms and held her tightly. Savoring the flowery fresh smell of her hair, he pressed a kiss to her lips as he’d wanted to do since first spotting her across the packed banquet room.
Mark relieved Skye of her attaché case, recaptured her hand, and led her toward the house. When he placed a hand on the doorknob, she grabbed his arm. “Wait!”
Chapter 18
Skye darted back to the car, grabbed her purse from the front seat, and yanked out a sliver tube. With quick, careful movements, she reapplied her lipstick and smacked her lips. Tossing the lipstick back in her purse, she tugged on the hem of her jacket, took a deep breath, and returned to Mark’s side.
Amused at her acute nervousness over interviewing Ed, Mark smiled reassuringly. “You look awesome.”
Skye’s eyebrows pinched together in a quick frown. “Awesome? This is work. I look professional.”
“Professional.” Mark gave her his best serious look. “Very.”
As he put a hand to her back and reached for the iron handle, the plank door opened wide with a sudden whoosh, and a grinning Ben held out a hand to Skye.
“Hi. I’m Ben, the senator’s manager-slash-assistant.” He held out a hand to Mark. “Hey, Mark.”
Mark smiled and shook his hand. Ben always reminded him of an overeager, highly trained puppy. He hummed with an abundance of energy, his manners were impeccable, and his knowledge and passion for politics unparalleled. “Ben.”
“Edward’s in the study. Give a holler if you need anything. I’ll be in the kitchen making some phone calls.”
“And stuffing your face,” Mark mumbled under his breath. “That kid’s got an unbelievable appetite. You’d think he was a teenager the way he packs away the food.” He turned to Skye, helped her out of her coat, and tossed it over the dark wooden banister then guided her down the hall.
“That ‘kid’ must be about thirty-five—older than me.”
“Not quite, but Yuppie Boy Wonder acts like he’s twenty. He’s a political genius. It’s in his blood. His dad’s a lobbyist for top pharmaceutical companies.”
“Careful. You sound jealous.” Skye smiled, enjoying her boyfriend’s blatant insecurity.
Skye’s heels clicked loudly on the shiny black and white marble tiles as they moved through arched doorways. She thought about softening her step, then threw her shoulders back and strode purposefully. Let her heels announce her. She was a professional invited here to interview the senator, not some thief sneaking around.
She took in the beautiful, detailed moldings and millwork showcased throughout, not at all surprised by the elegant house. She glimpsed a family room, tastefully decorated with overstuffed couches and warm colors. Late afternoon light streamed through the diamond leaded glass windows as they breezed through the spotless home. Skye imagined the immaculate rooms with a bit of clutter when the whole family was home.
A large, fluffy beige tabby bounced off his seat on the couch to trot after them. Mark stopped outside the study and bent to pet the cat. “Hey, Aslan.”
Mark rapped twice on the door and popped his head inside. Edward placed his cell phone on his desk and waved them in with a welcoming smile. He took Skye’s hand warmly between both of his, briefly trapping it. “Skye, it’s good to see you again.”
“You, too.”
The last time she’d seen Edward he’d been Mark’s best friend, but now the “senator” was definitely back. Skye found it a little weird reconciling the two. And it was weirder yet being with him and Mark here in Edward’s home as a reporter—not Mark’s girlfriend. They should have had the meeting in his office instead of Noelle’s home. Skye focused on his expensive suit. The senator’s here to work and so are you, girl.
Edward nodded, then turned and slapped Mark on the shoulder. “Mark.”
“Nice speech. You had me convinced.”
“Thanks. Well, come on in. Have a seat.” Edward took off his suit jacket and slung it over a chair before joining them at the comfortable couch and chairs grouping. “Drink? A beer, soda, water? Tea?”
Skye looked at Mark, who waited politely for her response. She didn’t want a drink—she wanted answers. She wanted to talk about the crazy incident the PI uncovered and how it affected his politics. She wanted to witness his shock and fear when he realized she knew something more intimate than even Mark knew about his past. But first, she had to take care of business. She wasn’t stupid enough to risk her own career for revenge. She’d have them both.
“I’ll have a b
eer.” Mark got to his feet. “Ed?”
“Yeah, thanks. Skye?” Edward loosened his tie, unfastened the top shirt button, and rolled up his sleeves before taking a chair facing her.
“Soda, please.” Skye sat on the couch facing Edward and got out her notebook. “Mark was right; that was a compelling speech. Do you write them yourself?”
Edward accepted the beer from Mark and drank from the bottle. “It’s usually a combined effort.”
Mark handed her a Diet Coke and a cut crystal glass half-filled with ice, then settled on the couch beside her.
“Thank you.” Skye poured half the soda in the glass and took a quick sip of foam before setting the drink on a coaster on the table.
Taking her phone from her attaché, Skye held it in her lap. “Do you mind if I tape this? I’m not very good with notes.”
“I’m not crazy about being taped—too easy to quote me out of context.” Edward hesitated, frowning at the machine as if it were a slimy croaking toad. “But I guess I can make an exception.”
“Great.” Skye turned on the voice memos. “Now, you met Mark at University of Michigan?”
“He was a lowly sophomore—who couldn’t get along with his roommate—”
“Who was a psychotic ass,” Mark broke in.
Edward continued as if he’d never spoken. “So I graciously allowed him to move in with me.”
“Doesn’t your friendship with Mark cause you any problems?”
“Aw, he’s not that bad. A little annoying, but he’s not that hard to get along with.”
“I mean politically. After all, his company works with stem cells, and your disapproval of stem cells is well documented. I’d think your association with Mark would make things awkward for you—especially in an election year.”
“I don’t disapprove of all stem cells—just embryonic stem cells. We applaud the work Mark’s doing with stem cells from cord blood. In fact, we’ve been clients of Aviva’s from the start. We have Jeff’s cord blood stored there.”
“Many people aren’t well enough informed to appreciate the distinction between the various types of stem cells. I’m surprised your opponents didn’t try to capitalize on this during the elections.”
“They did.” He nodded. “And Ben tried to get Mark to quit his job. When that didn’t work, he tried to forbid Noelle and me from associating with him. Finally he had to settle for ignoring the accusations.
“I run a clean campaign. I don’t believe in mudslinging. We educate people on the difference between embryo, cord blood, and adult stem cells, and trust that they’re smarter than our opponents give them credit for.”
“Well, it must have worked ’cause here you are.” She smiled. “Though he must be good for something, wasn’t it Mark who introduced you to Noelle?”
Edward nodded. “Noelle was on his recreation soccer team.”
Skye scanned her notes. Locating her place, she marked it with her pen. “So tell me. What’d you like most about Noelle?”
“You know what?” Edward raised an eyebrow, looked sideways at her, and gave her a slow sexy grin that had her eyes widening in appreciation. He sure could turn on the sex appeal. “I’ve managed to dodge personal questions like that all these years.”
“Which is why I’m asking. Come on, Senator. I’m not asking to read your love letters. Just tell me what first attracted you to her or—” she gave him a mischievous smile, “—we could debate the potential therapeutic uses of embryonic stem cells.”
Edward held up a hand to ward her off. “Oh, no. Not that.” He took a sip of beer and looked across the room. “Hmm... What first attracted me to Noelle?” He raised one eyebrow. “Besides her great breasts? Just teasing, strike that.” He leaned forward and brought her phone close. “Strike that last comment. For the record, Skylar Kendall is a friend, so I felt at liberty to tease her.”
Edward considered her a friend? Not today. Not while they’re both at work. But she laughed politely at his clowning anyway. “What’s wrong, worried the world will find out you’re a softie?”
“I’m a hard ass, haven’t you heard?” Edward took another sip and exhaled loudly. “Okay. What first attracted me to Noelle?”
He stared at his bent knee, so deep in thought Skye wished she could read his mind.
“Besides her looks?” Edward shrugged. “‘Cause let’s be honest, I was a shallow young stud like every other twenty-something guy, and my wife is a knockout. But besides that, I loved that she’s smart…” He paused thinking.
“Patient—’cause she’d need to be to put up with me. And I liked that she loved kids and always protected the little ones. And her best trait,” he paused dramatically and smiled brightly, “is that she had the good taste to fall madly in love with me.”
Edward shrugged and glanced away while picking up his beer and fiddling with the label. “I don’t know what to say. That’s why I don’t answer questions like those,” he muttered.
“You? Not know what to say?” Mark snorted.
So this is what Mark saw in Edward. His self-deprecation and sense of humor were incredibly compelling, Skye had to admit. Who didn’t like a man able to laugh at himself, who didn’t take himself too seriously? And his sincerity and embarrassment were sweet. Her readers would eat it up—especially the women. But she wanted more—something deeper.
“What were those early years like?”
“The same as other young couples. We worked hard to pay the bills and establish ourselves in our careers.”
“Not most young couples have trust funds.” She wasn’t about to let Edward pretend that his privileged life was anything near average. He wasn’t going to trick her into believing he’d been one of the middle class, so he was relatable.
“True, my grandparents set up a trust fund for me, but I couldn’t access it until I was thirty-five, so I took out a student loan—like everybody else. My first car was a used Ford Escort with seventy thousand miles on it and I worked several nights a week as a waiter. My mother believed it’d be a disservice to just give me what I wanted—and I agree.”
“Still, knowing you have the future support of a trust fund to fall back on gives a person a great deal of security the majority of young couples don’t have.”
“I won’t argue that.”
Because you can’t.
“Okay. Then five years later Jeff came along?”
“Yup.”
She cocked her head to the side, curious. “Jeff’s fourteen. Did you want to have more children?”
“We both wanted a large family but were never blessed.”
Nice pat, rote answer, but Skye knew there was more. Noelle had told her about their lost baby. “Because?”
“Because we were never blessed.” Teasing, easy Edward transformed into the professional senator before her eyes.
Testing, Skye ignored his hint to let it go. “Were you too blessed in your career to give more children the attention you’d want to give them?”
Edward’s eyes narrowed in quiet anger. “No, Skye.” He picked up her phone, turned it off, and tossed it on the wooden coffee table where it clattered and skid across to her glass.
“Ed, she doesn’t know,” Mark cut in quietly.
Edward spoke in clipped precise words. “Noelle suffered several miscarriages—five to be exact. Some things deserve to remain private. Being a politician does not mean that the public has a right to full access to every significant event in my life.”
Five? That she did not know. Noelle had only told her about the one. Five miscarriages spoke of optimism, determination, hope, heartbreak, desperation, and perseverance. Unyielding belief in love and family. Struggle, heartbreak and strength gave Edward a commonality that made him sympathetic and relatable.
Skye inclined her head. “Fair enough. Five miscarriages are a lot. I’m sorry for your losses.” She reclaimed her phone and pushed the red record button. “Did you see that Carl Levinson’s wife filed for a divorce?”
Edw
ard peeled the label on his beer. “I did.”
“What do you think?”
“That it’s none of my business.”
“The unfaithful politician is so cliché, but surely you don’t condone his behavior.”
“I’m not certain that marital infidelity is more common among politicians than any other profession. It’s probably just sensationalized more, but of course I don’t condone it.”
“Maybe, but a politician has more power, money, and opportunity than the average man. So not only are they in situations that facilitate marital indiscretions, but their positions also attract less moral people willing to encourage and profit from this type of behavior.”
“No more so than celebrities and wealthy, powerful businessmen.”
“True. Have you ever had an affair?”
Edward drained his beer and placed it carefully on the wood coffee table. He slowly moved his head from side to side. “No. I have never had an affair.”
“Would you tell me the truth if you had?”
“Nope.” A smile tugged at the sides of his mouth. He picked up her phone, backed the tape up and turned it back on after her question, effectively erasing proof that he admitted that he would not tell her the truth. “If I agree to answer a question, I always strive to answer it honestly.”
Suddenly Skye was glad that he wouldn’t have confessed the truth; she didn’t really want to know. She studied Edward, curious.
“So it’s not a facade.” Skye had first-hand knowledge that Edward’s happy marriage wasn’t a pretense, but her readers hadn’t spent that week with them—they didn’t know. “You and Noelle seem to have a solid, genuinely healthy marriage. What’s your secret?”
Edward sighed and looked at her from beneath bushy eyebrows as if wondering if he could trust her. Taking a deep breath, he said, “I can’t speak for Noelle. As for me, it’s pretty simple. She’s my best friend, and I love her.”
Skye had expected the ‘I love her’ answer, but there had to be more. She didn’t believe that love was always the answer. Though he might have something with the best friend thing. Still, there had to be more. Now she wanted to know almost more for herself than for the article. “And?”
The Lives Between Us Page 21