Chapter 19
NINETEEN
ALISON
"Tell me the grapes came out!" Lola giggles through the phone.
“Of course they did,” I laugh, “but I’m not telling you how or where.”
"This is the best story I've ever heard. I just have chills. I have legit chills, Ali."
"Me too. You don’t even understand.”
"I'm going to need to call Isaac now and try to replay this, although it’ll never measure up. Oh. My. Lord."
I laugh, falling back on my bed. I close my eyes and enjoy the feeling of being happy. Of feeling sexy. Of feeling like my body just got rocked.
"I just ... You've rendered me speechless! Here I thought I was the dirty bird!"
"He's everything." I remember the look in his eyes, the lust nearly palpable, as he kissed up my leg.
I shiver, drawing my legs together. I can still feel his touch, the way his fingertips drew lightly up my skin.
The way his tongue dipped inside me. The way his cock felt as it plunged deeply into me.
"Ali? Earth to Ali," Lola says, luring me out of my memory. "Am I talking to myself?"
"I'm here."
She snorts. "I think you're still in the quasi-winery. I know I would be. Hell, I kind of am and I haven't even been properly graped."
"I don't know how I'll ever forget that, Lola. It was just erotic. Completely mind-blowing."
"And you got to experience that."
I prop up on my elbows. "Thank God for small favors. Or not small. There's nothing small about him."
"Shut. Up," she sighs. "So when are you seeing him again?"
I pause, trying to figure out how to broach the subject. Apparently it’s too long of a silence because Lola picks right up on it.
“Why do I get a feeling you’re not telling me something huge?”
“I already told you he was huge,” I deflect to the best of my ability.
“You know what I mean. Not talking cock size for once.”
“We agreed to take things slowly,” I state as simply as possible.
“Whoa!” Something crashes in the background, the sound of bottles being knocked against tile. “Does that mean what I think it means?”
Sighing, I brace myself. “If you think that means I’m dating, for a lack of a better word, the mayor, then yes. It does.”
“What happened to you over the last twelve hours? You call me on the way to work, all sobbing about Huxley going fishing. Then you call me and just got a grape sucked out of your hoohah and are dating the most eligible bachelor in the country?”
“Yeah, that pretty much sums it up,” I laugh, unable to believe it myself. Every time I think about it, I automatically try to panic. Yet the worry doesn’t come. It just feels like I’m where I should be.
“What happened to separation of hearts and vaginas? Not that I’m against this by any means. Hell, you’ve taken my retirement plan to a whole new level ...”
“That’s not what this is,” I warn.
“No, I know it’s not. You’re not like that, like me,” she points out. “And that’s a good thing, I think. But what changed your mind?”
The moon shines through the window, illuminating my cherry-colored bedspread. She asked the million dollar question and I fight for a million dollar answer.
“Him.”
“And that means?”
How do I explain that, besides the fame and the fortune and the political connection, he’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of?
“I mean, he’s amazing. And I realize I’m just scared by all the outer trappings, and only because of what I’ve gone through before. I just think it’s worth it to see if it works. And if it doesn’t ... I guess I’ll figure out a way to survive. I did before.”
“That’s my girl! I knew you had it in you. Maybe you had to literally have it in you to have it in you, but you got it anyway.”
I laugh, her antics impossible. “Just remind me of this when I’m crying on your shoulder.”
“What about the media? What about Hux?”
“Everything should be fine if we just play it cool. Stay hidden. And if he wins the election, I guess we’ll see what happens,” I say, chewing on my bottom lip. My stomach twists at the idea, but I force it away. I’m focusing on the good. “And if he doesn’t, it’ll be easier to navigate.”
My phone buzzes with an incoming call. “Hey, my mom is calling. I need to grab it in case something’s wrong with Huxley.”
“Go. Just know I’m proud of you, Ali!”
“Thanks, Lo. Bye.”
“Bye.”
***
BARRETT
The lights are off in the cabana, but the solar lights are still burning along the path leading to it. The grounds are quiet and everyone is gone but me.
My briefcase is open on the desk. Swiping a file, the edges worn from looking at it so many times over the last month, I plop back on the bed I use when I stay here and look at it again.
I try to zero in on the words, but my mind keeps going to Alison.
I’m not sure what in the hell I’ve gotten myself into, only that this is the first time in a very long time I’ve felt like I just made the right decision.
My decision. A decision unmarred by suggestions and requests from everyone around me.
Even though we’re keeping it quiet, I know shit will hit the fan if it becomes public knowledge. Nolan will be furious. My father disappointed. Graham, the most trusted voice out of them all, will think it’s wrong.
I don’t care.
If I think about it long enough, I realize that my lack of concern does, in fact, concern me. Their points are right. This could be a big fuck-up for my campaign. There are a million ways this could go wrong. So why am I not more anxious about this new relationship?
I have no fucking idea.
All I know is that there’s a little peace in my stomach, a little levity in my step that I don’t want to let go.
In a world of stress and assholes, a life of planned moves and compromises, she’s the purest deal.
The only person that just wants me. The single human being, besides my mother, that looks at me and sees straight through to who I am on the inside, without the name, the looks, the smile, or influence I can flash and get my way.
I can’t let that go. Regardless of what they say.
My phone rings and I grab it. I see my mother’s name on the screen. Immediately, I smile and answer. “Hey, Mom.”
“Hi, Barrett. Am I interrupting anything?”
“Nope,” I say, shutting the file and tossing it on the edge of the bed. “And even if you were, I’d stop to talk to you.”
“Ah, you’re a charmer,” she laughs. “How is my oldest child? Are you hanging in there? I know how the last weeks of a campaign can be.”
“Yeah, I’m all right.”
“Why do I know you’re fibbing?”
Chuckling, I imagine her face. Her eyes are narrowed, her lips pressed together.
“Because you’re my mom, I guess.”
“What’s wrong?” she asks, her voice soft.
“Just ... shit.” I contemplate telling her about Alison first. I want to discuss it with someone that won’t judge me, that won’t tell me first off how stupid I am.
“Is it that Land Bill? Your father was talking about it tonight. I know we own some of the land in play and he wants you to go against it.”
Sighing, I nod. “Yeah. That’s the main thing right now. I’m being pushed by everyone to brush it off, but I just ...”
“Barrett, listen to me. This is your career. Whatever you choose to do is your legacy. You have to do what you feel is right, what you can be proud of having your name attached to.”
“You know Dad will disown me if I don’t go against it, right? You realize you’ll personally lose a few million dollars?”
“You do know I have enough money so your future children never have to work. And you also know I will die after your father and it’ll be me that decides who’s in the will.”
I can’t help but laugh. I know she’s joking, in part, but she’s kind of telling the truth too.
“On a serious note,” she says, “I understand and respect the fact that you care about what your father says. You’re a good man, a good mayor, a good son.
But your father has had his life to make his mark on the world, and when I look at you children, I have to say he’s made six beautiful, smart impressions.
But this is your life, not his. He tries to push you and guide you, but you can make your own decisions. ”
I think to the one decision I’ve already made that I also know he’ll be against.
“What if this is the wrong decision too?” I ask.
“Too?”
“Forget it,” I say, realizing my slip of the tongue. “I misspoke.”
She pauses like she does before she imparts her infinite wisdom.
I hated these long stretches of silent time growing up.
I always knew she was going to wallop me with something I couldn’t argue, something that would root in my brain and make me feel a certain way.
I wait on it with the same trepidation now.
“You don’t remember this and I don’t want you to ever speak of it.
But when I was pregnant with Ford, I had very high blood pressure.
The doctors wanted me to abort the pregnancy; they said if I carried him, I might die.
Your father wanted me to terminate it. He said it wasn’t worth the risk to my life and that I had to think about the rest of you kids. ”
“I had no idea,” I say in astonishment.
“I was frozen, Barrett. How could I choose what I wanted, which was to keep the baby, and risk so much that affected so many others? It was a terrible position to be in.”
I nod, understanding her position way better than she even imagines.
“But at the end of the day, I was the one that had to live with it. And I couldn’t live thinking that maybe, somehow, it would work out. And I valued that little baby’s life as much as I valued yours, or Graham’s. So I chose to go through with the pregnancy.
“Your father wasn’t pleased. He thought I was being cavalier about it, risking my health for something that may or may not even be feasible. But I made my choice because it was mine to make. And, as we all know, it worked out.”
“But what if it hadn’t?” I say, my brain spinning. “What if you had died or Ford hadn’t made it?”
“It was possible. Nothing is guaranteed. But living and not knowing would’ve been worse than playing it safe. Sometimes, Barrett, you have to take some risks.”
A grin slides across my face, her words as poignant as ever.
“Thanks, Mom.”
“You are very welcome. I want to have lunch with you soon if you can swing it. I miss seeing your handsome face.”
“I’ll figure something out this week. I have to meet Monroe in the morning ...”
She takes in a quick breath. “One more thing—Paulina said she was happy to arrange a dinner for you with some of her friends. I know one’s a prosecutor and one is a tremendous benefactor at the hospital in Mason. Maybe that would help?”
I know Paulina’s dinners all too well, and they always end up with her and me getting it on. I’m normally game for that, but things have changed. Majorly.
“I really don’t have any openings in my calendar for something like that,” I say, trying to dissuade her from pushing the issue.
“She said it’d be something small, something intimate.”
I bet.
I try to hide my chuckle. “It’s probably not a good idea, but please thank her for me.”
“Will do. Get some sleep. We’ll talk soon.”
“Love you,” I say, kicking off my shoes.
“Barrett?”
“Yeah?”
“Trust your instincts. They’ll never let you down.”