She shook her head as she stared down at her screen. “I have no idea.”
“Only one way to find out then.” He hitched his chin toward the phone and she hastily thumbed on the device before it could send the call to voicemail.
“Senator Chastain?” She hoped her tone sounded cool and professional andnotlike she’d been seconds away from finally,finallykissing Fisher Wakefield. Seconds away from having his perfect lips moving over hers. Seconds away from tasting the sweetness of his breath on her tongue.
And sure, asking him to kiss her had probably been a foolhardy request. Kissing him would only make her want to domorethan kiss him. And doingmorethan kissing him would ultimately end in him leaving her like he left every other woman who warmed his bed. Which would absolutely demolish her already bruised and battered heart.
But she figured that was a problem for Future Eliza to deal with. Current Eliza just wanted to feel something other than guilt and horror and sorrow. Current Eliza was determined to experience one small intimacy with him so she could take it out and relive it on all those cold, lonely nights that stretched out as far as her eye could see. Current Eliza…didn’t give a damn about the regrets or recriminations come the light of day, because if this night had taught her anything, it was that she wasn’t assured a tomorrow.
“Have you spoken with the FBI?” Bethany Chastain’s voice rang with the same authoritative tone she used when she badgered witnesses at senate inquests.
Eliza was instantly on guard. And now that she wasn’t distracted by Fisher, her face reminded her that it had its own heartbeat, and her head reminded her that it was concussed. “Yes. Why?” She rubbed two fingers against the ache centered behind her browbone.
“What did you tell them?”
“The…the truth,” she answered hesitantly, wincing and gingerly touching the knot near her temple when it suddenly felt like someone had shoved a knife through the side of her skull. The swelling seemed to be going down some. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. “What else would I tell them?”
There was a brief pause from the other end of the call. Then, “And whatisthe truth, Eliza?”
“I’m sorry.” She glanced over her shoulder to find Fisher frowning fiercely. His expression said he could hear everything the senator was saying, and the look in his eyes askedwhat the fuck?All she could do was shrug, because…what the fuck, indeed. “I don’t know what you mean, Senator,” she said into the phone.
“Why did John invite you tonight?”
She was beginning to feel a bit like an interrogee. “I don’t think Senator McCleandidinvite me. I think he invited his son and I happened to be Charlie’s plus-one.”
Again, a pause. And then, “How odd.”
The sounds of distant voices and an announcement over an intercom system echoed through the phone. Eliza recognized the cacophony of a hospital. “Senator, are you okay? How’s Professor Chastain?”
“Out of surgery but still hasn’t regained consciousness.” It was the first time in the conversation the woman’s iron-lady mask slipped. A tremor entered her voice. Eliza could hear her sniffle before the sound of rustling tissue paper rasped over the connection.
“I’m so sorry for everything you’re going through, Senator,” she said sincerely. “I can’t imagine how?—”
“I don’t have time for your sympathies.” Bethany Chastain cut her off, and Eliza lifted an eyebrow. She should be used to arrogant, high-handed politicians by now. After all, she’d been raised by one. But sometimes their pompous attitudes still caught her off guard. “I called to tell you to be careful of who you trust. Careful of who you talk to.”
Eliza was growing more alarmed by the minute. “I don’t know what you mean, Senator.”
“It’s good you don’t. Stay not knowing.”
“Senator—”
“I have to go. I just came down to get a coffee that doesn’t come from a vending machine, and to take the opportunity to call you. But I see now I needn’t have bothered about that second thing. So I’ll get upstairs to be with Bill. Take care.”
“Senator, I—” Before Eliza could say more than that, the line went dead.
Was itallpoliticians who cut off calls without so much as a goodbye? Or was it only politicians of a certain age who felt their advanced years gave them the freedom to be rude?
She’d have to ask her father the next time she spoke with him.
“What was that about?” Fisher asked.
She blinked and shook her head. “I have absolutely no idea.”
A muscle twitched in Fisher’s cheek. “Should you call the feds or…” He grimaced like his next suggestion rubbed him the wrong way. “Or your dad?”
Fisher was like the rest of the Knights. They admired and respected her father for the work he did. But they didn’t reallylikehim.
In point of fact, Eliza wasn’t sureanyoneactuallylikedher father. He was too hard, too cold, too…ruthlesswhen it came to trying to push through policy.
