The tumult made my head spin. A sea of cameras and reporters ringed the house, and I hesitated before getting out of the black car. I hadn’t seen anything like this since I’d worked for Fontaine, the rock star, but then again, I hadn’t worked through a Washington, DC political scandal previously.
The clicking of the reporters’ cameras punched into my brain like staccato shots, and I put my head down and barreled through them. A quick flash of my badge to the guard gave me entrance to the senator’s house, and I shut the door behind me, leaning against it with a sigh.
“Gabriel. Thank God you’re here. Maybe you can talk some sense into Dan. He seems to think this will blow over and everything will be fine.” Amelia, the senator’s wife, entered the foyer. It pained me to see her taut, strained face, so I put on a smile.
“I don’t know what I can do. I’m just the bodyguard.”
At least that made her smile. “You’re more than that and you know it. He thinks of you as a friend.” The smile faded as she stood in front of me, shoulders back, head held up proudly. “And he’s going to need all the friends he can get. I’m leaving.”
I was afraid of that.
“I’m sorry, Amelia. You didn’t deserve what happened.”
“I have to ask.” Steady as always, she pinned me with a hard gaze, and I braced myself, knowing what was coming. “Did you know? Were you with him when he went to…her?”
“No. And I wouldn’t lie to you. The nights he saw her, he did so after I was off-duty. He kept me in the dark as much as you. I mean, that sounds stupid, considering you’re his wife…”
“Not for long.” Her lips pressed tight. “I’m seeing a lawyer this afternoon. No way am I going to be one of those women who stands by his side, acting like a forgiving fool.” Her lips curled in a sneer. “He wanted her, he can have her.”
I couldn’t agree more. Somehow I thought a twenty-three-year-old intern wouldn’t be too interested in a sixty-five-year-old disgraced senator. Call me cynical, what can I say.
“Can’t say I blame you. What about you? Where will you go once you leave? If you need my help, let me know, and I’ll stay for you, but otherwise I have to go.”
“That’s sweet, but it’s not necessary. I’m going to Europe for six months. We have an apartment in Paris where I can wait out the storm and keep the press vultures at bay. I won’t be reachable to anyone. After I return, I’ll be going to our town house in the city. It’s near my sister and her husband, so I’ll have family. I’ve missed being involved with the theater and museums. I’ve turned down numerous requests to be on the board of so many vital city institutions, but no longer.”
Amelia came from one of the richest families in New York, and I had to wonder if Dan—son of an accountant and a teacher—had married her for love or for her pedigree. He had a tenacious drive to succeed and be on top, which had served him well in college and law school, but once his political career took off, it seemed he reveled in the spotlight and people fawning over him more than doing his actual official duties. It looked as though he’d fallen prey to a different kind of sucking up this time, and it was about to cost him everything.
“You’re the first to know,” I told Amelia, “but…I’m quitting. I can’t work for someone who treated you so badly. I can put up with a lot, but not a cheater.” I’d had enough of that with my father.
“Gabriel, you don’t have to.”
“I know. I don’t have to like the person I work for, but I do have to respect them. And I don’t respect people who cheat and refuse to accept the consequences of their actions. He’s fighting the investigation and making himself out to be the victim, turning a blind eye to how he hurt you and that young intern. I can’t work for someone like that.” While I disagreed with many of his votes, until now I had respected his work, and his fall from grace saddened me. Over the years I’d worked for Dan, his image had eroded slightly but never reached such a low point. Another father figure shot to hell. Maybe my best friend, Isaac, was right and people just sucked. Period. I hated being such a cynic, but it was looking suspiciously like that was the case.
“What will you do now?” Amelia had always treated me more like a son than an employee, and this wasn’t an easy decision for me to make. Dan had received a few threats after his votes on controversial issues years earlier, but nothing further. I often thought he wanted a bodyguard more because it was cool, rather than for actual safety. “I’ll make sure you get the best of references and a year’s severance. Whatever you need. You shouldn’t suffer because of Dan.”
“Thanks. I’m not really sure what I’ll do now.”
“You deserve some time off.” Genuine distress filled her eyes. “Losing DJ two years ago almost killed me, and you helped more than you could ever know. You’ll always have a place in my heart.”
It had been a horrible tragedy. DJ Bridges—senator’s son, rising political star, and avid pilot—had gotten lost in bad weather similar to the kind that had killed JFK Jr. and Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy. His small-engine plane had crashed, killing him instantly in a fireball.
Unbeknownst to Amelia or anyone else, he’d also been my lover, and I mourned him, albeit in secrecy. DJ had never told anyone he was gay.
“You’re a strong woman. And I’ll always be here for you too.”
Sniffling, she wiped her eyes and gave me a gentle hug and a smile. “I appreciate that. When are you going to tell Dan you’re leaving?”
“Now is as good a time as any. I’ve started packing; I plan to go visit my mother for a while.” I attempted a lighthearted tone. “See? Everything will work out. For you as well.”
“I hope so. Starting over at any age is hard, but at sixty-five…”
My heart went out to her. Amelia put on a brave face, but it couldn’t be easy. “You’re a fighter, Amelia, and you have your whole life in front of you.” I grinned at her. “Didn’t you hear? Sixty-five is the new forty.”
“You’re silly but sweet. You should go see Dan now. He has a news conference in an hour, and I want to be out of the house before the press gets here.”
We hugged again for a moment, and then I watched her mount the stairs with that same regal posture she’d shown the night the news had broken of her husband’s two-year-long affair. What a woman. I took one last look around the familiar, century-old house where I’d spent most of the last five years and then strode to the senator’s office. I knocked, and when I heard a hearty, “Come on in,” my brows rose high. Someone sounded like he hadn’t a care in the world.
Dan Bridges glanced over the rims of his reading glasses, and his face creased in a smile. “Gabriel. Come on in and sit down.” He sat surrounded by photos of Amelia and DJ, along with two former presidents.
