Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
BARRETT
The words begin to swim on the page of the proposal sitting in front of me. I’ve been working nonstop since before sunrise and I can’t possibly read another sentence.
I sit back, trying to decide on coffee or an energy drink, when a rough knock sounds and the door swings open.
“Hey, Barrett,” Lincoln says, Graham on his heels.
“I thought you were leaving today.” I say.
“Nah, I figure I’ll stay awhile. My shoulder is pretty sore, and if I go back to Tennessee, I’ll try to train with the guys and that’ll fuck it up worse than it is,” he winces, rolling his shoulder around.
Standing, I do a little stretching of my own. It feels good to move, to get some blood flowing.
I didn’t sleep worth shit last night, my mind running from the election to Alison and back again. By three a.m., I realized that the problem with Alison lies in the fact that she’s simply not mine. And the fact that I’m bothered by this little technicality fucks with me.
The realization had me hitting the bottle of Jack a little heavy in the wee hours of the morning.
This isn’t the time or the place for me to decide to start thinking about monogamy.
That ruins men. Clips their nuts, drains their testosterone, destroys the very things that make politicians good politicians.
I am a politician.
I need my nuts ... buried in her.
Groaning, I look up at my brothers. Linc has made himself at home in my fridge, an apple in one hand and a glass of water in the other. Graham is sitting across from my desk, watching me.
“Before we get to what I came here for, let’s get this over with,” Graham sighs. “How deep are you in?”
“Deep in what?”
“Alison Baker.”
“I’ll tell you how deep I’d be in that,” Linc says, taking a bite of the apple.
I glare at him and he just shrugs.
“I’m not,” I say carefully.
Graham doesn’t buy it because he’s not stupid. “Do I need to run a background check?”
“I know everything about her,” I promise.
He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “How can you? You’ve known her for what? A week?”
“Okay,” I relent, “I don’t know what her favorite color is, but—”
“Do you know what her pussy feels like?” Linc interrupts.
“Shut up, Linc,” Graham and I say in unison. He snaps another bite of his fruit.
I sigh, trying to figure out how to skirt the issue. I know what he’s going to say and he’s right. I need to be smart. But I also need to figure out a way to make this work.
“I know I need to watch my image.”
He nods and stands. “Yeah, you do. We’ve worked our tails off to get you to this place.
You’re on the cusp of achieving something no one in our family has done since our grandfather, and if you can get there, you have a chance at the White House eventually.
This is not the time to take risks, brother. Not in this department.”
I turn my back to him. I don’t want him to see the look of frustration on my face. This is not a conversation we’ve had before. Usually it’s him telling me to stop fucking a chick, and I laugh and agree. But this isn’t that. I haven’t even fucked her.
I’m the one that’s getting fucked.
“Look,” Graham says, his voice overly calm, “I get that you kind of like this girl. She’s hot, she seems sweet, she’s got a great kid.”
“Smart kid,” Linc chips in, laughing.
“But can’t it wait a few weeks until this thing is over?”
Graham’s question is cut short by another knock and the opening of the door. Nolan rushes in, his glasses hanging off the end of his long nose. A stack of files in his hand, his suit looking rumpled, he drops into a chair beside my brother.
“Can’t what wait a few weeks?” he asks, looking from one of us to the other.
I shoot Graham a look. “A vacation. Lincoln wants to go to Australia and swim with the sharks.”
He chokes on his apple.
“Good,” Nolan says, flipping open a folder. “I thought you were talking about some girl you were seen with at the game last night.”
My cheeks heat. “What do you know about that?”
“People tell me things,” Nolan says. “This isn’t my first walk in the park ... or ballpark, either. I’m sure Graham is in here now trying to talk some sense into you, warning you to keep your nose clean. And he’s right, Barrett. There’s way too much riding on this for you to be stupid.”
“I’m not being stupid,” I protest. I glance at Lincoln and he rolls his eyes, his disdain for Nolan palpable. “I’m just friendly with her. That’s all.”
“Keep it that way. She’s divorced, had assault charges leveled at her in New Mexico by a member of the press.” Nolan takes his glasses off and looks at me like he’s won some victory.
I narrow my gaze. “I understand you’re doing this because it’s your job. But I need you to back the fuck off, okay?”
My head spins with this new information, but I can’t let him see that. It’ll show a ding in my armor and I don’t want him trying to exploit it. Still, I’m shocked at his accusation and wonder if it’s true and, if it is, what the story is behind it.
“I’m going to assume,” he mocks, pulling his hand away from his face, “that you’re going to listen to your brother.
” He looks at Graham and Lincoln. “Graham. Not that one,” he says, nodding to Linc.
“And stop this before it causes us a lot of problems to fix. Years of work have boiled down to this moment, Barrett. Don’t blow it for, well, a blow. ”
I laugh, but Nolan blanches at the anger laced none too quietly in the sound.
“Here’s your problem,” I say through gritted teeth.
“You know nothing about Alison other than the secondhand, or maybe thirdhand, information you’ve acquired through your back channels.
And you, of all people, should know just how many times they get the facts right. ”
“Are you defending her?” he asks, his brows lifted.
“Yeah, I’m fucking defending her. She’s a good person and it pisses me off to hear you act like she’s some kind of cheap date.”
“Let’s be honest,” Nolan says, standing, “that’s your typical method of operation.”
“I—” I start, but Graham stops me before I get going.
“Let’s all just settle down,” my brother says, looking me in the eye. “Our focus needs to be on the election, not Barrett’s flavor of the week.”
My mouth opens quickly to send him a message, but the look he flashes me stops me in my tracks.
“Now, let’s talk about Monroe,” Nolan says, sliding his glasses back on his face. “I know you’re having some rebellious feelings towards the Land Bill, but if you want to be elected, you’re going to have to be logical.”
“Logic says that it’s the wrong thing for the people of Georgia,” I point out. Again. “If that bill gets passed, a bunch of wealthy families, like my own, make more money. If it doesn’t, businesses come in. People go to work. The economy flourishes.”
“That’s great in theory, Barrett, but it’s never going to happen. Hobbs has already guaranteed Monroe he’ll vote for the bill. We know Monroe favors you, at least somewhat, because you’re the same party and your families have been friends. But this bill is important to him.”
“Because he stands to make twenty million dollars,” I snarl.
“He’s right,” Graham gruffs. “You’re going to have to make some decisions. You have to decide what you want in life and make a plan and follow it.”
The innuendo isn’t lost on me and I want to lash out. But I don’t. Because at the end of the day, these men want what’s best for me.
“I’ll think about it,” I say. That seems to pacify them all, except Linc who looks disgusted by it all. “I have some meetings, so if you all can excuse me ...”
They get the point and head to the door. Linc is the last to leave. Before he exits, he turns to me. “You know what I have to say about all that, yeah?”
“What’s that?”
“Fuck it. Do what makes you happy.”
The door closes behind him and for the first time in my life, I take my youngest brother’s advice.
***
ALISON
“Did you get everything?” I ask, giving his backpack one final glance before zipping it up. “You guys are going to have so much fun.”
“We will. Even if we catch nothing, it’ll be great because I got to miss school today,” Huxley points out.
It’s ten in the morning and I need to be studying. Instead, I’m being a mom, my favorite job in the world. I’ll have to catch up on the other part later.
“Tell Grandpa to make sure you wear a life jacket, okay?” I ask, kissing him on the head as he tries to bolt for the door. “If you fall out of the boat, we’ll have to miss using up those season tickets.”
He looks horrified. “Don’t even joke about that. I wish it was time for baseball season already!”
“I know,” I grin, remembering how he jumped up and down when I told him about the tickets. “But it’s not, so have fun with Grandpa.”
“Okay, Mom! Love you!” he says.
By the time I get to the door, he’s in my father’s truck. Dad rolls down his window.
“I’ll make sure he wears a life jacket,” he winks.
“And no leaning over the boat. I don’t care how big the fish is,” I wince. My heart wobbles in my chest. “Okay?”
“I’ll keep him safe. I raised you, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, but he’s my baby.”
“And you were mine.” He winks and rolls up the window. I wave as they back out of the driveway and are out of sight.
My phone rings in the kitchen and I grab it on the fourth ring. “Hello?”
“Hey, Alison,” Barrett’s voice melts through the phone. “How are you?”
My stomach flurries, a smile painted on my face without me realizing it. I take a seat at the table and try to seem chill.
I’ve been thinking about him a lot, preparing for this phone call.
It was hard to sleep last night after the game, so I spent the endless night hours searching my heart for my truth, what I wanted and what I think I can and should handle.
And even though I tried to talk myself out of it a hundred thousand ways, I always came back to wanting more of the feeling I get when I’m with him.
I’ve missed it, the sensation of feeling like a woman.
Sometime around six this morning, I made a deal with myself: I’ll see him again when he calls. And if he acts like an ass again, I’ll walk away and feel good about it.
And if I happen to actually see his ass in the meantime, I’ll consider it a bonus.
“I’m good. Well,” I say, caving to my anxiety, “not really. I just sent Huxley off with my father for a little fishing. I’m a nervous wreck.”
“Ah, skipping school for some sun? My kind of kid,” he jokes.
“He never gets to do that kind of thing, so why not?”
“You can learn just as much outside the school walls as you can inside.”
“Yeah, now if I can just block out the drowning aspect, it’ll be great.”
He laughs, a smooth, sexy sound that distracts me. I’m glad for it.
“We used to go boating every weekend in the summer,” Barrett says. “It’s good to have some experience with water in a controlled environment. I’m sure your dad will watch him.”
“He will. I just feel like it all falls on my shoulders, you know? And I feel like I’ve let him down so many times in his life already that I need to be especially vigilant.”
“I doubt that’s true.”
“It is, but let’s not talk about it. What are you doing today?”
His sigh drifts through the line. “Meetings. Committees. Interviews. Battling back this statement from Hobbs’ campaign today.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“No. Not really.”
I can tell he’s bothered. It’s in the strain in the edges of his voice, the grit that scratches at his tone.
“I’d rather talk about you. How are you? How was your day?”
“Good. Busy. A touch lonely,” I hint.
“Have you given any thought to seeing me again?” he asks, his voice soft.
“A little,” I lie because it’s dominated my thoughts.
“I hope that it’s only a little because it took you two seconds to realize it was a good idea.”
“I want to ...” I stand and try to keep my head clear.
“What are you afraid of, Alison? Talk to me.”
I decide to bare my soul. Leave it all out there, and then, maybe, my decision will be made for me.
“When I’m with you ...” I begin, trying to figure out where to start.
“You find yourself smiling? And then you leave me and all you can think about is how to manage to see me again?”
My ears are sure they’re hearing things. “Barrett ...”
“I’m not asking you for anything more than a bit of your time.
I just want to see what it is between us that drives me insane.
That keeps me up at night, that brings you to mind when I should be working on the campaign.
” He takes in a rushed breath. “If you aren’t in the same boat, so to speak, then I’ll stop this pursuit.
But, Alison, I think we are paddling towards the same target.
We just need to see if we can get there if we paddle together. ”
It’s do or die time and I have to pick a direction. If I seriously don’t want to see him again, I need to let him go. He’s right. But the thought panics me, sickens me. The idea of not having a chance at it being him on the other end of the phone when it rings feels so bad.
“What time is dinner?” I ask.
I can hear him grin through the phone. “I can meet you later tonight, or if you’d rather, I can make an hour or so in my schedule this afternoon for lunch?”
“I need to finish this paper I started earlier, but I work at four. Can you make it at one o’clock?”
“I can make it twelve or one or six if that means you’ll come.”
I smile like a loon. “At the Farm?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll be there at one. See you then.”
I hang up the phone and head to my closet to find something to wear.