Chapter Sixteen
Sam left HQ and directed the car through rush-hour traffic as she made her way to Pennsylvania Avenue to go to her husband’s office at the White House.
And yes, that sentence still made her want to giggle madly nearly a year after he’d accepted the president’s invitation to be his new vice president.
They’d had no idea then the many changes his new role would bring to their lives, primarily the security that surrounded Nick and Scotty at all times.
That had been quite an adjustment, to say the least, not to mention that it took thirty minutes for Nick to leave the house.
He hated that, and so did she. They both missed the ability to be spontaneous, to come and go as they pleased, to operate in the anonymity people took for granted until they lost it forever.
At the White House gate, she was waved through.
After all, she was the second lady—another thought that still made her laugh.
She was probably the worst second lady in history, but she was also considered a trendsetter for continuing in her job, without Secret Service protection, while her husband was in office.
Coming here was almost routine at this point.
Underline the word almost. It would always be surreal to swing by the White House to see her husband during his workday.
She even had her own parking space. Hilarious.
Inside the West Wing, she made her way to Nick’s office, nodding at people who recognized her and said, “Hello, Mrs. Cappuano,” as she went by.
Here, she was Mrs. Cappuano, and that was fine with her when not that long ago she would’ve chafed at being Mrs. Anything.
She’d never changed her name after she married Peter, a topic that had caused conflict between them, but then again, everything had caused conflict between them.
She’d happily changed her legal name when she married Nick, probably because she knew this marriage was forever whereas the first time around had been a mess from the get-go.
Marrying Peter when she’d been pining for Nick had been among the biggest mistakes of her life.
And then when she’d learned that the reason she’d never seen Nick again was because Peter hadn’t given her his messages…
God, she couldn’t think about that without her blood boiling, even after all the time she’d been back together with Nick.
She’d never forgive Peter for what he’d denied her and Nick with his lies and deceit.
He was gone now, a victim of murder at the hands of someone who’d been trying to discredit her and Nick, and while she was sad for the way his life had ended, she remained bitter about the hell he’d put her—and Nick—through.
Outside Nick’s office, one of the admins—Sam could never remember all their names—smiled and told her to go on in. “He’s expecting you.”
Three little words that made her heart flutter with anticipation, knowing he was on the other side of the door and that he’d taken the time to tell his staff she was coming. She opened the door and stepped inside.
He was behind the big desk that had belonged to another vice president—she forgot which one—and looked up at her, smiling.
God, that smile, that face, those eyes… She loved him unreasonably.
He got up and came around the desk, holding out his arms to her.
She went to him, let him wrap her up in his warm, loving embrace and immediately felt better.
“This is a nice surprise.” He kissed the top of her head. “To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit?”
“I needed this.” She held on tighter, and so did he.
“I’m always happy to provide this.”
They stood that way, wrapped up in each other, for a long time before he guided her to the sofa and brought her down on his lap. “What’s wrong? Besides the obvious, of course.”
“Tough homicide today. A newly married, highly respected DEA agent cut down by a stray bullet fired during an argument across the street.”
“Ah God. That’s awful.”
“It was awful. The poor wife. She works with Darren, so he took me to her.” Sam shook her head. Recalling Roni’s awful shock and grief was unbearable. “It was bad.”
“I’m so sorry you had to deal with that so soon after your own shocking loss.”
“It’s not about me.”
“They’re all about you, Sam. You take them all personally, which makes you damned good at your job.”
“I guess. It’s so fucking sad. I kept thinking that she had her whole life figured out, and then it’s gone in the blink of an eye.” She glanced at him. “Even though we played worst-case scenario last night, I don’t know how I would ever deal with that if it happened to me.”
“It won’t.”
“Please don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“I never do. Kiss me.”
She knew he was trying to change the subject, to take her mind off the pervasive sadness, but she never said no to kissing him.
Her lips connected with his, which was all it took to make her want much more than she was going to get while they were in his office.
He leaned his forehead against hers, stroking his fingers through her hair and generally making everything that was wrong in her world right again by caring so much.
“I’m sorry you’re hurting, babe.”
“Lots of people are hurting.”
“I’m sorry you are hurting.”
“I’ve been talking to Dr. Trulo about maybe doing something for people like the woman today, something to support them more than we do now.”
“Like what?”
“A support group, maybe, for the victims that’re left behind when someone is murdered.”
“That’d be amazing.”
“He suggested I do it as both the Homicide squad commander and as second lady. He thought it might become a national movement if I lend my lofty title to it. What would you think of that?”
“I think that’s a fantastic idea on his part—and yours.”
“It’s in the earliest stages, but this thing today brought home again how badly it’s needed.
I took her to see her husband at the morgue, and in most cases, I wouldn’t see her again until the case goes to trial.
The thought of being able to do something more for her and so many others is very appealing to me. ”
“I love it. You’d help a lot of people even more than you already do with something like this.”
“Perhaps I’d also help myself at the same time.”
“No doubt.” He guided her head to his shoulder. “I know you have to be missing him something fierce.”
“I am but working on his case again is helping. We’re making a little headway.”
“Wouldn’t it be something…”
“Yes, it would.”
“What’s the latest with Conklin?”
“Farnsworth and Malone are investigating that personally and were able to prove that Davis called Conklin every year on the anniversary of my father’s shooting.”
“Oh my God.”
“Farnsworth is taking it right to Tom Forrester.”
“Holy crap.”
“What I don’t get is why he would keep that from the rest of us. I can’t stop asking why.”
“It’s possible the answer to that question might be the break you’ve been waiting for.”
“Maybe, but at what cost? You know? What was Conklin involved with that was more important than getting justice for my dad?”
“If anyone can figure out the answer to that question, you can.”
“It’s going to come down to money, power or sex. If you’re looking for motive in most crimes, it usually involves one of those three things. Part of me doesn’t want to know.”
“I can understand that.”
“I should go so you can get back to work and finish up.”
“I can take work home with me. I’ve had enough of this place today.”
“Is everything okay?”
“The budget crap is draining.”
“And? What else?”
His deep sigh put her on immediate alert. “There’re apparently some major rumblings from the other side of the aisle about us taking in two kids who’ll require Secret Service protection at taxpayer expense.”
“Seriously? What if we’d had twins of our own when you were in office?”
“From what I hear, that would be viewed differently than volunteering to take in other people’s children.”
“That’s such bullshit. We have the right to expand our family if we choose to.”
“And that’s exactly what I told Terry to pass along to those who have objections.”
“How big of a deal is this going to be?”
“We’ve had reporters from CNN, NBC, the Washington Post and the New York Times call for statements today.”
Sam experienced a sinking feeling at realizing it would be a very big deal with those outlets nosing around. “What did you tell them?”
“The same thing you said—that we have the right to expand our family at any time, even when I’m in office, and that we also have the right to have our family protected from people who’d do us harm simply because of the office I hold. Terry thinks it’s going to be a bit of a thing.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what? You haven’t done anything.”
“I brought home two kids without a thought as to what it could mean for all of us.”
“And I’d certainly hope if you had it to do over again, you’d do exactly the same thing despite any heartburn it might cause us. As I’ve said repeatedly—our heartburn is nothing compared to their heartache.”
“I love you so much, Nick. All the time, but the way you’ve gone to bat for two kids who aren’t yours makes me love you even more than I already did.”
“Same goes, babe. I love the way you saw them and had to help. I’ll never regret stepping up for them.”
“Even if there’s a massive shitstorm?”
“Even then. Especially then.” He kissed her again. “Let’s get the hell out of here and go home to our family.”
Hours later, after spending quality time with the kids, which included lasagna for dinner and a competitive game of Candy Land that Scotty had won, baths, bedtime stories and a few tears from two little ones who were still missing their beloved parents, Sam curled up to Nick in bed, exhausted and drained.
He caressed her arm as she breathed in the familiar scent of him, the scent of home. “I used to dream about having what we do now,” he said. “A family to call my own. There’s nothing else quite like it.”
“No, there isn’t. I worry about what’ll happen when Elijah finishes school.”