Worth the Chance

by Vi Keeland

  I have a full glass of the already uncorked wine poured, before Vinny even gets back from seeing her out. Popping a strawberry into my mouth, I smile and raise an eyebrow. “She was cute.”

  “Oh yeah? Not my type. Guess I didn’t notice.” He takes two grapes from the platter, tossing one into his mouth, and gently slips one between my lips.

  Sipping my wine, I decide I probably don’t want to know, yet I can’t stop myself from asking, “So what is your type, Mr. Stone?” I mimic the server in response.

  Vinny takes my wine glass from my hand and sets it down on the cart. Wrapping his arms around my waist, he pulls me close to him. “I only have one type.”

  “And that is?”

  “You.”

  I roll my eyes, but down deep, I love his response. He kisses the tip of my nose and pulls me close to him in an unexpected, tender hug.

  “What do you want to do tonight?” I ask, content in just staying right where I am for the next three or four decades.

  “Whatever you want.”

  “Really?” I pull back to look him in the face.

  “Sure, as long as whatever you want entails staying in this room and me inside of you.”

  Yet another decision I choose not to argue about.

  Chapter 29

  Liv

  “Morning.” Vinny’s gravelly voice tells me he hasn’t been up for long either. I snuggle closer to him, our legs and arms still tangled, my head resting peacefully on his chest as I listen to his heartbeat. Inhaling deeply, I dread the thought of getting out of bed and getting on the roller coaster of a day I have planned.

  Vinny trails his finger up and down my naked back, lightly tracing figure eights. The motion soothes me, makes it even harder for me to get out of bed. He does that to me, makes me want to close the door to the outside world and forget it even exists. Especially today. I want to stay in the little bubble of this room, feeding each other fruit and drinking wine between trysts.

  The alarm on my phone goes off too soon and I groan as I reach over, turn it off, and begin to climb out of bed. A strong arm pulls me back down. “Where are you going?”

  “I have to get in the shower, my appointment is at ten and I need to meet the photographer a half hour before that.”

  “Give me that mouth.”

  “But I haven’t brushed my teeth.”

  “Then give me something else to kiss. I’m laying here looking at you naked, if you don’t make it fast, you’re definitely going to be late.”

  Kissing him chastely on the lips, I jump out of bed before he can pull me back, even though I’d much rather stay in bed and have him make me late.

  ***

  Paul Flanders, one of the dozens of staff photographers from the Daily Sun Times, and I arrive at Senator Knight’s home. Brick pillars hold two large wrought iron gates in place. A camera mounted on top of one of the tall pillars pivots in our direction as we slow to the waiting intercom.

  “Can I help you?” A man’s voice booms from the little box, mixed with static.

  “I have a ten o’clock appointment with Senator Knight. My name is Olivia Michaels, from the Daily Sun Times.”

  “Hold your ID up to the red x on the box.”

  Fishing out my license, I do as instructed and watch as the camera moves again. A moment later, the gate opens. “Drive to the top of the hill, park in front of one of the garages.”

  One of the garages? A long road surrounded by manicured green lawns leads up to a stately home looming at the top of the hill. I park the car and look around at the stunning view. Built on a peak, the spectacular storybook home is perched on the top, offering a bird’s eye view of the city of Washington, D.C. off in the distance.

  “Not going to be hard to find a place to recreate the Kennedy compound feel at this place,” Paul jokes as we stand in front of the intimidating, towering, white double doors, waiting to be greeted.

  The doors open and I’m surprised to find Senator Knight standing before me. A home like this, I half expected a butler in a full suit with tails to greet us with a fine British accent.

  “You must be Miss Michaels and Mr. Flanders. Please come in.” Senator Knight smiles and extends his hand to greet us individually as we enter.

  Wearing a navy blue sweater and khakis, he looks casually elegant. I find myself staring as he speaks. I’m barely inside, yet I’m already searching his face for telltale signs of Vinny’s lineage.

  Luckily, the Senator and Paul spend a few minutes discussing places that Paul can shoot on the grounds. It gives me a chance to take in his face without having to participate in the conversation.

  His pale blue eyes are strikingly beautiful, contrasting starkly with his deep tan skin. There’s no mistaking that the color is almost an exact match to Vinny’s, but there’s something vastly different too, although I can’t put my finger on exactly what it is.

  Standing to his side as he points Paul in a direction outside, I’m able to take in his profile. What I see almost stops my heart. The same rugged, squared jaw line, frames a strong face, one I’m intimately familiar with. It almost makes me uncomfortable to see it on someone else, makes me feel exposed for some reason. The two men exchange words and then Paul heads outside to photograph the house, leaving Senator Knight to turn his attention back to me.

  “Miss Michaels, I’ve met many of your colleagues at the Daily Sun Times, but I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting before.” He smiles, it’s a practiced smile, one that reminds me he’s shaken hands and kissed babies campaigning for votes a good portion of his life. “I’m actually quite certain we haven’t met before, I’d remember meeting such a beautiful young lady.”

  “Ummm…thank you.” I think? “I’m new at the Daily Sun Times.”

  “Well I hope this will be the first of many interviews. I have a long history with some of the reporters at the Sun. I feel like I watched a few of them grown up over the years.”

  Smiling pleasantly, I lie through my teeth, “I’d like that. It’s an honor to meet you.” My background research taught me he likes to impress women. Young women. The more awe struck I could appear in his presence, the more he would talk.

  “Why don’t we go into the library?” It’s a question, but he isn’t waiting for a response. He motions for me to follow and leads me down a series of hallways. The big house is beautiful, architecturally stunning, yet cold, almost sterile. We settle into a beautiful library on two couches positioned facing each other. It’s not incredibly large in perimeter, but the room spans two floors. A small staircase leads up to a gangway that traces the outline of the room, allowing visitors to reach books on the second floor.

  “You like the library?” Senator Knight smiles, watching me take in the room. I don’t have to feign awe in here, the room is beautiful, every journalists dream.

  “It’s stunning.” I look up and down the countless rows upon rows of beautifully bound books, spanning at least twenty feet high, if not higher. “It’s absolutely exquisite, such simple classic beauty.”

  “Yes, yes, it certainly is. Beautiful.” I turn back to Senator Knight, finding his eyes roaming my face and, for a second, I’m not sure if he’s still talking about the library.

  Burying my head in my bag to hide the pink that I feel rise on my face, I take my time to dig out my notepad, paper, and recorder, hoping the heat cools as quickly as it rose. “So, Senator Knight. I was hoping to get some background, set the tone for the story. Show the readers your climb to the top.” I smile, clicking on the recorder in front of me.

  “Whatever you want. I’m an open book.”

  Sure you are. “You’re originally from Chicago. Did you choose to go to law school locally to be close to your family?”

  “Great question. There are a number of reasons why I chose Loyola, but yes, being close to my family was important. Family is at the heart of every success story. There was really never any other choice for me. I attended Loyola undergraduate, and their catholic val
ues just connected with me so strongly. It brought me closer to my faith and family life. So when I was given the opportunity to attend law school there, I jumped at it.” He smiles and winks. “Plus, I met my college sweetheart there.”

  Didn’t take long for the good Senator to get his strong family values and religious beliefs in, did it? I get the feeling this man could weave the two into a response to just about any question. Politician oozes from him as soon as the recorder clicks on. Like an actor in front of the camera, he comes to life. Quick, someone hand him a baby to kiss.

  “Mrs. Knight earned her degree in early childhood education. Did she teach while you were in Chicago?”

  “No, no. She did a lot of volunteer work, but we were married pretty young, and she took on the job of raising our family full time. Not a lot of women are willing to commit to that important job anymore.”

  Or men. His comment is sexist, and instantly annoys me, yet I plaster a smile on my face as I respond with words that taste stale as they pass through my lips. “I hope I’m lucky enough to be able to stay home with my family someday.”

  Senator Knight sits back in his seat, fanning an arm over the side of the couch, an approving smile on his smug face.

  “You were only twenty-eight when you made partner at Kleinman & Dell, that’s impressive, you must have had some celebration.”

  Turning to look out the nearby window, I watch a change settle in on his face. His jaw clenches and he takes longer to respond. If I wasn’t digging for a reaction, I probably wouldn’t even notice it, but I do, because I’m watching for even the smallest sign. “Yes, well. I was younger back then.” A few seconds later he turns back, mask back firmly in place.

  We spend the next hour talking, but the reality is I could’ve written the story without even coming here. There’s nothing new in what he reveals. Desperate to find more, to dig deeper, I decide to push more on his family.

  “You only have one son, Jackson, right?”

  “Yes.”

  I could be imagining it, looking for something that’s not there, but his answer seemed almost too quick.

  “I’d love to ask him a few questions, if he would have time? I know Paul was set to photograph him today, but if he’s available for a few questions, I’d really like to get a couple of quotes from him. I’m sure he must be so proud of you and everything you support.”

  Smiling, he stands, “I’m sure he will make time for you, Miss Michaels.” Another wink.

  ***

  Following Senator Knight outside to the sprawling backyard, we find Mrs. Knight being photographed by Paul while she gardens. She’s wearing a sheer white shirt, khaki pants tucked into rubber gardening boots, and her perfectly coifed hair is neatly tied back in a pastel colored scarf. Makeup as perfect as her pose, she’s leaning in and digging a small hole to plant a tomato seedling.

  I find the whole scene almost comical. Who gardens in an expensive white shirt and makeup? Even funnier, I parked alongside the gardener’s truck when we pulled into the driveway. But I look up at Senator Knight with my best attempt at awe as he looks on proudly at the fake scene that represents his life.

  “Your wife is beautiful.” And plastic.

  “Thank you.” He stands taller with the compliment, as if he is actually personally responsible for the praise I’ve just given.

  “Come on, let’s go find that son of mine so you can have a few minutes with him.”

  Senator Knight leads the way down a brick path to a smaller house that looks like a guest quarters, or perhaps the residence of a live in member of the staff. “Jackson prefers the guest quarters to his mother’s constant doting in the main house. This was their compromise when he decided it was time to move out.” He opens the door without knocking and yells in, “Jackson, I have someone that would like to meet you.”

  The house is quiet. The Senator steps inside and looks around while I wait in the doorway. A voice from behind me startles me, “Can I help you with something?”

  I jump at the unexpected sound, losing my balance, almost falling backwards as I trip over a pair of running shoes left just inside the door. A strong arm catches me as I teeter. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you okay?” Using both arms, he steadies me on my feet as I look up to find the face attached to the voice.

  Looking into Vinny’s eyes, I freeze, feeling suddenly lightheaded and dizzy. The Senator’s eyes are the same color, yet something was different, gave me hope that maybe the source was really wrong. But the eyes staring back at me instantly shatter almost all the hope I clung to.

  My mouth hanging open, I stare at him blankly. I’m unable to tear my eyes away from the familiarity of looking into them, even though he’s a total stranger. Unable to speak, I nod my head.

  Still holding me steady, I can see concern on his face, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Senator Knight interrupts, “Jackson, there you are.” Confused, he turns to me, “Are you okay? You look pale.”

  Jackson answers for me. “I just scared her and almost knocked her over.” He smiles at me, revealing a deep creviced dimple. “And I didn’t even get her name yet.”

  Releasing my arms slowly to make sure I’m steady on my feet, he takes a step back and extends his hand in my direction. “Hi, I’m Jax Knight.” His smile seems genuine.

  “Olivia Michaels.” I finally speak as he takes my hand in his. He shakes my hand, but continues holding it as his father finishes the introductions.

  “Miss Michaels is a reporter from the Daily Sun Times. She’s doing a feature story for the re-election campaign. She’d like to ask you a few questions.”

  “It’s very nice to meet you Miss Michaels.” A grin on his face, he finally releases my hand.

  “Please, call me Olivia.”

  He nods, “Only if you call me Jax.”

  “Not Jackson?”

  “Nah, too formal. My father here likes to use Jackson, he thinks it sounds more presidential, but my friends call me Jax.”

  Senator Knight’s phone rings and he walks away for a moment, leaving Jax and I alone.

  “So what do your friends call you, Olivia Michaels?” The flirtatious smile is back. It’s different than Vinny’s, but I’m positive it has the same effect on women. There’s just something there. A hint of cockiness mixed with good looks is a lethal combination. Jackson Knight is tall, maybe even an inch or two taller than Vinny, and broad just like his father. He’s wearing a plain white t-shirt and low hanging sweat pants, making him appear all the more like Vinny.

  “Most new friends call me Olivia, but my closest, oldest friends call me Liv.”

  “Okay then, Liv.” He grins. “I was just going to head out for a run, but I forgot my water so I came back.” He pauses. “I’m glad I did. Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Your mother wants me in the garden for some photos.” Senator Knight turns back to us as he makes his way to the door. “Be on your best behavior with Miss Michaels, Jackson,” he scolds his son before walking out.

  Ignoring his father, Jax motions for me to follow. “Come on, I’ll grab us some waters and we can take a walk outside while we talk, if you want.”

  “That would be great, thank you.”

  Surprisingly, our conversation flows freely as we walk. Unlike Senator Knight, every question seems to be answered without rehearsed speech. Our banter is easy, natural, and so many of his responses border on flirting, but he doesn’t cross the line.

  “So, what made you get into the world of Financial Management?” I know he made a name for himself in managing high net wealth personal portfolios. The Wall Street Journal even took notice of the returns he secured last year for his investors.

  “My father,” Jax responds with a truthful answer that I don’t expect.

  “Not your first choice, huh?”

  He laughs, “Nope. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve done well, and it’s an interesting enough job.”

  “But…,” I encourage him to continu
e. Obviously there’s more to his statement.

  “But, what I really would love to do isn’t exactly a great long term career move.”

  “And that is?”

  Jax smiles sheepishly, he almost seems embarrassed to admit his childhood dream. “I always wanted to get into pro boxing. I’ve been doing it since I was a kid.”

  I stop in my tracks. Jax takes two steps more before realizing I’m not walking next to him anymore.

  “Liv. You okay? You’re scaring me again.” One arm quickly reaches for me, as if he’s afraid I’m going to lose my balance again.

  The reality of what’s been hanging over my head since I was given this assignment finally hits me and I feel sick. Allowing it to sink in for the first time that, no matter how much I want the story not to be true, I can’t change the truth. Time freezes, my anything’s possible life suddenly flashes before my eyes. Doors that I see open in my future slam shut and I just know nothing will ever be the same from this point on.

  “Liv. Do you need to sit down?” There’s concern on his face and I realize I didn’t even notice him coming to stand in front of me, both his arms holding my shoulders tightly. I’ve actually lost time, stuck somewhere in my own head.

  Shaking my head to physically force myself to snap out of it, I finally regain my senses. “I’m fine. I’m sorry. I should’ve eaten something this morning. Sometimes my blood sugar gets a little low and I get a little foggy,” I lie.

  “Come on, let me sugar you up inside.”

  Once inside, Jax makes me sit and eat some fruit and drink a full bottle of Gatorade before he allows me to stand. Yet another thing he has in common with Vinny, bellowing demands that I seem to follow like a petty officer to a drill sergeant.

  “You sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “You know, if you want me to hold you, you could just ask. You don’t need to pretend you’re going to faint.”

  “What? I wasn’t…” I’m about to set him straight when I look up and see he’s joking written on his face. He laughs and it helps me relax a bit.