Chapter Fifteen
Just after six o’clock in the morning, a light knock on the bedroom door woke Sam from a sound sleep twenty minutes before her alarm was due to go off.
Wanting Nick to sleep a while longer, she carefully got up, put on her robe, tied the belt and pushed the hair back from her face.
She took her phone off the bedside charger, put it in the pocket of her robe and opened the door to Brant. Did he ever go home?
“Very sorry to disturb you, Mrs. Cappuano, but we have a Dolores Finklestein from Child and Family Services at the checkpoint demanding to see you and the vice president immediately.”
“All right,” Sam said, resigned to beginning a new day with a new challenge. “If you’ll let her in, we’ll be down in a few minutes.”
“Very good.”
Sam closed the door and went to wake Nick. “Hey,” she said, kissing his cheek. “Wake up. CFS is here about the kids.”
“What do they want?” he asked, mumbling as his eyes remained closed.
“Probably to tell us that we went about this all wrong, and now they have to get involved.”
“Great.” He sat up, ran his fingers through his hair and put an arm around her. “Are they going to take them?”
“Not if I can help it.”
Smiling, he kissed her temple. “That’s my tiger.”
Sam went into the bathroom to brush her teeth and hair and then crossed the hall to her closet to change into yoga pants and a sweatshirt.
As she stepped into the hall, Nick came out of their room wearing a navy sweater with faded jeans.
Keeping her voice down so the agent outside Scotty’s room wouldn’t hear her, she said, “This would be a good time to pour on the sexy vice-presidential charm.”
Nick scowled at her. “Whatever that is.”
“It’s you being you. Women everywhere swoon in your presence. Make her swoon.”
“Are you angling for a spanking, my love?”
“Oh yes, please. Can we do that later?”
“Samantha.” With his hand on her ass, he directed her toward the stairs. “Behave. I mean it. If you send me down there with a boner, she’ll have the kids out of here in five minutes.”
Sam smothered a giggle that was busting to get out. She managed to maintain her decorum. Just barely.
Dolores Finklestein had steel-gray hair, a stout shape and a no-nonsense expression on her face.
Sam was immediately intimidated, which didn’t happen very often. “Mrs. Finklestein, I’m Samantha Cappuano.” She decided to play the second lady card since it suited her purposes. “This is my husband, Nick.”
“It’s Ms. Finklestein, and it’s a pleasure to meet you both.” She shook both their hands and took the seat Sam offered.
She and Nick sat on a love seat, and Sam reached for his hand, hoping to demonstrate their unity. “What can we do for you, ma’am?”
Nick squeezed her hand, probably in response to her unusual deference toward authority.
Whatever. She’d do what she had to in order to protect those sweet babies.
“I understand that Aubrey and Alden Beauclair were released into your custody last night. I’m here to collect them.”
“Ah, collect them?” Sam asked, her mouth suddenly dry as she glanced at Nick.
“That’s correct. We have a process, Mrs. Cappuano, a process that was not followed last night. The GW social worker should not have released the children to the custody of anyone but a representative of our department.”
“The children were released into the custody of licensed foster parents,” Nick said. “The way I see it, they saved your department a lot of trouble by working this out for you.”
“That may be the way you see it, sir, but that’s not the case. I received a call at five o’clock this morning that the children had been found and placed without our involvement, which, as the social worker at GW knows, is against policy.”
Nick released Sam’s hand and leaned forward, elbows on knees, fiercely handsome.
Here it comes, Sam thought, wishing she could rub her hands together. The charm offensive.
“Let me ask you this, Ms. Finklestein—what’s in the children’s best interest now—removing them from a place they feel safe and subjecting them to further trauma, or allowing them to remain in our custody until other plans can be made?
Is it more important to you that we backtrack to follow procedure, or is it far more critical that we consider the needs of two children who’ve lost their parents in the most tragic way imaginable? ”
Sam wanted to stand up and cheer. She also wanted to kiss him. But she didn’t do either of those things. Rather, she sat perfectly still and waited for the other woman to reply.
“I understand your position and agree it would be disruptive to move the children again if they’re comfortable here. However, I do need to take them to be evaluated and processed.”
“They’re five, and they’re traumatized,” Nick said, beginning to sound more frustrated than charming. “What kind of evaluation and processing could you possibly need to do that couldn’t be done right here where they’re with people they know and have become at least slightly comfortable with?”
Her lips set in a tight expression. “I need to see the children.”
“You’re more than welcome to come back in a couple of hours when they’re awake,” Nick said.
“I need to see them now.”
“I’m afraid that’s not going to happen,” Sam said. “They went to bed late. Alden was up during the night, and they’re both still asleep, where they shall remain until they wake up on their own. At that time, you’re more than welcome to speak with them.”
The two women engaged in a visual standoff.
Sam refused to blink or look away.
Seeming to realize she was fighting a losing battle, Ms. Finklestein cleared her throat. “Very well, then.” She put her business card on the coffee table and stood. “I’ll expect a call the minute the children are awake.”
“If you attempt to remove them from our custody,” Nick said, “I’ll expect you to bring a court order. Barring that, they aren’t going anywhere until permanent arrangements are made for their care. Am I clear on that?”
“Crystal,” she said, her tone frosty. She stormed toward the door, which was opened by the agent on duty, who then closed it behind her.
Sam jumped into Nick’s arms, taking him by surprise as she kissed his entire face. “You were so fucking amazing. I’ve never wanted you more than I do right now.”
“Dear God, woman,” he said, as he took a step backward while trying not to topple over from the impact.
Nate, the agent at the door, cleared his throat and suppressed a laugh.
“Not in front of the agents,” Nick said, his face flushed with embarrassment.
“Don’t let me stop you,” Nate said. “I thought you were pretty great, too.”
“See?” Sam said, continuing to kiss Nick’s face. “It’s not only me who thinks so.”
The door opened to admit Shelby, who had Noah strapped to her chest. “Um, okay,” she said, seeing Sam attached to Nick. “I can come back if now isn’t a good time to arrive for work.”
“Come in,” Sam said. “Put me down.”
“I don’t want to,” Nick said, tightening his hold on her.
“Nick!”
“To be continued later,” he muttered before putting her down.
“What’d I miss?” Shelby asked Nate. “Mom and Dad don’t usually PDA in front of the help.”
“To recap,” Nate said, “a lady from CFS came to take the kids, and Mr. Vice President let her know that isn’t happening without a court order. Mrs. Cappuano appreciated his efforts on behalf of the kids.”
“Ahh,” Shelby said, laughing. “I see how it is.”
“He was amazing,” Sam said, looking up at him. “Truly amazing.”
“I take it the kids are here to stay for the time being?” Shelby asked, tugging up the sleeves of her pink sweatshirt.
“Barring a court order,” Nick said, “which they’ll be hard-pressed to get, as we are licensed foster parents.”
“If I may, sir,” Brant said, joining them. “I couldn’t help but overhear, and I wonder if it wouldn’t be better for everyone concerned if the children were placed elsewhere until permanent arrangements can be made.”
“Better for whom?” Sam asked, giving him a pointed look.
“Your husband and son, ma’am. I’ve been in touch with the director about the situation this morning, and he is in full agreement that the Beauclair children should not be sheltered here.”
“I’m glad you’re all in full agreement,” Nick said. “We are not.”
“With all due respect, Mr. Vice President,” Brant said, “the person who set the fire at the Beauclairs’ home did so knowing there were four people in the house. They were willing to incinerate those children.”
His blunt words made Shelby whimper.
“What’s to stop them from trying again?” Brant asked.
“You,” Nick said. “You and the rest of our security make it impossible for anyone to get anywhere near us or them.”
“You and I both know that’s not one hundred percent true. We do everything we can to protect you, but no security is completely infallible as much as we’d like to believe otherwise.”
“Let me ask you this,” Nick said. “Where are those children safer? With us or with another foster family that doesn’t have world-class security?”
Brant shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I hear what you’re saying, but—”
“They’re staying, Brant,” Nick said. “For as long as they need emergency shelter, they are staying. Make it work.”
“Yes, sir.” Brant turned and left the room.
Sam looked up at Nick, fanning her face. “Hot.”
He rolled his eyes.
“See what I’m saying, Shelby?” Sam asked.
“Oh, I see it. I definitely see it.”
“Be quiet,” Nick said, scowling. “Both of you.”
“I need to clean up before my team arrives for our eight o’clock meeting,” Sam said.
“I’ll start some coffee for y’all,” Shelby said.
“Bless you,” Sam said. To Nick she added, “Could I have a word upstairs, please?”
He gestured toward the stairs. “After you.” Following her up, he cupped her ass and gave a squeeze.
Ignoring the agent who watched them, Sam grabbed a handful of his sweater and pulled him into her closet, closing the door behind them.
“What’s—”
Sam dragged him into a tongue-tangling kiss.
“—up?” he asked when they resurfaced for air minutes later.