“I see.” He studied her face. He had always been rather good at reading people. It was time, he realized, to use his ability on his own daughter. “Still want to go through with it? The divorce?” He certainly couldn’t blame her, not after what he’d found out about Jordan since the accident. Still, people had a way of working things out when you least expected it.
“More than ever.”
It was time to ask. She felt a slight tension enter the pit of her stomach and told herself she was being silly. This was her father and she wasn’t a little girl anymore, seeking a favor of the great senator. She’d aged a hundred years in the last two weeks.
Taking a breath to calm herself, she began. “On the night of Grandmother’s funeral, you told me to come to you if I ever needed anything.”
“Of course.” Now they were getting to it. She’d never come to his office before. He thought it odd for her to start now, out of the blue. “What is it you need? Another place to get away?”
She shook her head, a smile forming. He’d never guess. Why should he? He didn’t know her very well, even if she was his flesh and blood. For that matter, she was just getting to really know herself. It was a shaky journey, but one she was beginning to find satisfying. “A job.”
His eyes narrowed. “A what?”
She leaned forward, her momentum growing in the face of her uncertainty, as if to speed things along before he turned her down. What if he did refuse, for some reason? What if he thought it wouldn’t look right or something equally immaterial but annoying? People had strange reasons for doing things, or not doing them. “A job. Here, with you.”
He’d never pictured her working. Rheena would have a fit. Not that that would stop him. It might even make things interesting. But was Shanna serious? “Shanna, I think—“
She could hear the refusal coming a mile away. Shanna held up her hands, stopping him.
“Just hear me out, Dad. I wasn’t cut out to be a bored heiress. I want to do something with my life. My education doesn’t qualify me for much except standing on a street corner and spinning theories about life.”
“If you just transfer that to a party atmosphere, then you’re all set.” He smiled, then saw just how serious Shanna was. He crossed his arms before him, ready to listen to reason. “Go on.”
Maybe it was going to work. “I never felt more alive than when I was working on Jordan’s campaign committee. Even the little details, they were all important. They all went into making up a whole. And it felt good being a part of that.”
He saw the light that came into her eyes. It intrigued him. So, she had a taste for politics. He had suspected it, on occasion, because of the questions she asked and because she seemed to like to linger and listen when he and his colleagues discussed politics. But he hadn’t expected her interest to go this far. “Well, a candidate’s wife—“
She shook her head. “It wasn’t just being his wife, Dad. Of course I went into it to help him, but it got to be more than that. It meant more than that to me. For the little while that I was working, I felt really good about myself.” She rose, placing her hand on her father’s shoulder. It was the first time she could remember approaching him on a one-to-one level, as an adult. “I want that feeling back, Dad. I want to make a difference.” She smiled. “And I really do believe in you.”
He was touched more than he thought was possible. Lightly he covered her hand with his own and patted it. He’d been the recipient of a lot of praise over the years, some genuine, a good deal not. The senator couldn’t remember ever being this moved. “Nice to hear after all these years, Shanna.”
Talk was very cheap in politics, they both knew that. People traded it for favors all the time, buttering up, kissing up. She wanted him to know that she was being sincere.
“I really mean it. And it’s not because you’re my father and it’s not because you’re charming.” He inclined his head slightly at the compliment and she smiled for the first time since she had walked in. “It’s because you stand for something, for integrity.” She thought of Jordan. “That’s not an easy thing to do in Washington. Souls get sold all the time for a vote.”
Though it was good for the voters to think of him in this light, Brady didn’t want his daughter getting blinded. He was only mortal. “Don’t put me on a pedestal, Shanna. I’m not lily-white.”
She liked him, she thought. She genuinely liked him. It was a nice thing to find out about your own father. “No, you’re a man and human. But you’ll never be accused of being corrupt, either. And I know your record,” she pointed out. “I know you’ve made a difference more than once. I want to help you keep making a difference.”
“Very heady stuff to hear this far into my career.” He sat down and turned his chair to face her squarely. For a moment he forgot about the work, the vote waiting for his support and his influence. What was happening here right now might not change the course of national events or history, but it was important to him.
He made his decision, knowing he couldn’t have said anything else. “All right, you’re hired. As it happens, I need a new aide. See Haggerty about placing you in the office.”
Brady saw Shanna’s relieved smile and realized that she had been afraid he’d turn her down. His own daughter? Did they really know so little about one another? He supposed so. It never ceased to amaze him. He probably knew more about Haggerty than he did about Shanna. But now that she was here, it was something he would have the opportunity to remedy, God willing.
He rocked back in his chair, a forefinger against his cheek as he studied her. “What is it that you can do?” Something else he didn’t know.
She shrugged. “Anything that needs doing.” She thought of Jordan’s headquarters. Someone else had taken the title, but she had done the work. “I’m a hell of an organizer. And I’m not too proud.” As she remembered Jordan and the way he had been the last time she saw him, her mouth hardened slightly. Pride had kept her from forgiving him. That, and good sense. “At least not when it comes to working.”
He laughed, then nodded. “That’s good to hear. On both counts.” Brady glanced at the report on his desk. There were responsibilities waiting and he could put them off only for a fraction of the time that he would have liked. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He raised the top two files. “I have to—“
She had to tell him everything. Now that she was working for him, he’d know soon enough anyway. She gripped the arms of the chair, as if that would help the words come out. “There’s one more thing you should know.”
There was something in Shanna’s tone that had him raising his brow, not quite knowing what to anticipate. “And that is?”
She said the words in her head before she said them aloud. Dress rehearsal. “You’re going to be a grandfather.”
It was the last thing in the world he had expected, even less than her application for a position in his office. He looked at her incredulously. “What? How . . . ?” For a moment speech failed him.
Shanna shrugged, striving for humor. “The standard way. Birds and bees.” But her father wasn’t smiling.
“Jordan’s?” Brady saw the surprise mingled with hurt that came into her eyes and quickly waved his hand. It’d been the wrong thing to say. He never said the wrong thing in public. But this was personal. “Yes, yes, of course it’s Jordan’s. I’m sorry.” His apology was in his eyes. “It’s just that I’m completely off guard here.”
He wasn’t the only one. “Tell me about it.” Shanna laughed sadly.
He wondered if Rheena knew about this. “Are you keeping it?”
She smiled and pressed a hand to protect the tiny being that lived within her. She had come to terms with that, too, on the flight back. In a way, she knew she had from the very first. There could have been no other decision. “Yes. Possession is nine tenths of the law and I have squatter’s rights.”
This put everything in a different light. Except his love for her. “Does Jordan know?”
She
raised her chin. He was beginning to recognize the familiar move. It reminded him of Eloise.
“No.”
“Are you going to tell him?” he asked more gently.
“Eventually I’ll have to.” There was no way around that. Jordan had a right to know of his one legitimate child. She wondered how many others there were born “on the wrong side of the blanket.” “But it doesn’t change anything.” She searched her father’s face. “Does it?”
This was where the support came in, he thought. He wasn’t about to let her down. “Not a thing. Like I said, report to Haggerty. At your convenience,”
She saluted as she rose. “Will do, Senator. Now is fine.” Smiling, she let herself out.
It took a lot of concentration for the senator to get back to his reports, even though he knew that the subcommittee would be waiting.
Chapter 14
It was Shanna’s intent to fill all the empty spaces, all the tiny openings in her life with work. She threw herself into it from the first moment she entered her father’s D.C. office. The first week was a whirlwind of orientation that left her breathless, exhausted, and hopeful. The pace limited the amount of time she had to dwell on the almost stark bleakness of her personal life. The only time she spared for it was to make sure her divorce was under way.
Stealing an hour from the office, Shanna emphatically informed her attorney that she hadn’t changed her mind about the divorce. She wanted it to be quick and neat. Furthermore, there was to be no quibbling over possessions. Whatever Jordan wanted, within reason, would be his. The houses, the furniture, she didn’t care what it took. She just wanted him out of her life. Permanently.
Though appalled at the idea that she apparently was giving in on all counts, John Stewart agreed to take care of the matter as discreetly as possible. He did, however, draw the line at Shanna’s money.
“You can’t just give that social-climbing scoundrel what he wants,” Stewart insisted from behind his two-hundred-year-old intricately carved desk.
It sounded as if he had been on the phone with her mother, and recently, Shanna mused. What was left of her breakfast was making itself uncomfortably known and she wanted to cut the meeting short. Besides, she had to be getting back to work.
“No,” Shanna agreed. “The money belongs to me. And the family. Whatever Jordan earned and saved during our marriage is his to keep.” When last she looked, Jordan’s bank-account balance had been abysmally low.
Shanna rose, hiking up her purse strap on her shoulder.
Stewart looked down his long, thin nose at her. He had been retained by the family for more years than he cared to count. He felt as if he had a vested interest in their affairs. By association, what transpired with the Bradys reflected on him. He rather liked Shanna and wouldn’t want people thinking of her as a meek little fool. “There, at least, you’re showing some sense.”
Shanna smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Stewart. It’s taken me a while, but I’m learning.”
As she walked out of his office she left behind the impression of a young woman who was on her way to becoming someone to reckon with. Stewart hoped he’d live long enough to see it happen. These things often took a great deal of time and he was far from a young man.
Something to look forward to, he thought, lighting up the one imported cigar he allowed himself each day. He buzzed his secretary. “No calls, Miss Jacobs,” he instructed, then leaned back and enjoyed his only vice.
Shanna returned from the lawyer’s office and plunged into work. She wanted to forget about the divorce, forget about everything that had come before. Her life began now, today.
Except, of course, she amended, for the little detail of her pregnancy. That tied her to the past. She fervently hoped that she wouldn’t look down at her baby’s face each day and see Jordan looking back.
Gathering together the bound copy of the latest data she and another aide had complied on the present housing shortage in her father’s home state, Shanna brought them to his office. She knew his itinerary better than her own. There wasn’t any conference scheduled.
She walked in on a friendly conversation between her father and Senator Whitney. The latter, sitting back comfortably on the leather coffee-and-cream-colored sofa, looked a bit more jowly than he had when she and Jordan had attended his soiree. He grinned broadly when he saw Shanna enter, then shook his head in disbelief.
“Well, now, how about that? Your daddy said you were working here, but I didn’t believe him.” Whitney eyed Shanna compassionately. Brady had told him about the divorce. “How are you holding up, honey?”
She placed the five-inch-thick report on her father’s desk. “Here’s the statistics you wanted on the housing shortage, hot off the presses.” She turned toward Whitney. Though she appreciated his concern, she didn’t want to be the object of pity. “Just fine, Senator. I’m working at becoming indispensable.” She glanced at her father. “Right, Dad?”
Brady had turned to a page of the report at random and was very satisfied with what he saw. He looked up in response to her question.
“Absolutely.” He saw the indulgent smile on Whitney’s face. “I’m serious. She has this knack I never knew about.” He ran a thumb over the report’s binding. “People talk to her. She can get to the bottom of things and get things done.”
In a paternal move that was becoming increasingly more familiar to him, Brady slipped his arm around Shanna’s shoulders. He was a head taller, but they had the same slender, wiry build, the same color hair. He was beginning to see a lot more of himself in her than he ever had before. But then, he realized, he’d never really looked before. “She’s a godsend to the office. Pretty damn good at canvassing on the streets, too, and talking to the voters.”
Whitney listened, impressed. No matter what, Brady had never been one for empty praise. “Come by my office.” The elder statesman winked broadly at Shanna. “I could use a pretty little face around there.”
Shanna patted the man’s baby-smooth cheek affectionately. There were few people she felt as at ease with as she did with Whitney. “Just look in the mirror, Senator.”
Whitney roared appreciatively. As a young man, he had been “downright ugly,” he liked to say. His wife, he maintained, had married him strictly out of pity and the depth of her good heart. Now, as age advanced and gave his face character, he was not nearly as self-conscious of his appearance. When Shanna had once likened him to Mark Twain, he had all but glowed.
“She’s gotten sassy, Brady.” He nodded twice at his assessment. “Nothing wrong with that. Just don’t let her get fat.” He pretended to leer, raising his shaggy white eyebrows comically up and down. “I like my women on the thin side. Meat I can get from a turkey.”
Shanna glanced down. Her waist was still small because of her almost daily communion with the toilet bowl. But morning sickness would stop eventually. When it did, she had a feeling that her body would explode, expanding two dress sizes up.
“Better look now, Senator,” she advised. “I won’t be thin for long, I’m afraid.”
Whitney looked from Brady to Shanna, then cocked his head to one side. “How’s that?”
Her father hadn’t told him. She felt grateful for his respect of her privacy. “You’re going to be a great-godfather,” she told Whitney, keeping a smile fixed on her lips. She watched anger bloom in the florid face. Whitney was a dangerous man when aroused. She was glad she had never been on the receiving end of his disapproval.
“That son of a bitch!” he huffed, embarrassed at his slip, but his anger remained. “Pardon my French, Shanna.” It was the first time in all the years he’d known her that he had ever cursed in front of Shanna. “He left you pregnant? Where I come from, they’ve got ways of dealing with scum like Calhoun.”
He made her sound as if she was a castoff, and while she knew he hadn’t meant anything by it, she was determined to correct the image she had unwittingly had a hand in creating.
“Please get something straight, Se
nator,” she told him quietly. “Jordan didn’t leave me, I left him.” She raised her chin. “It was my first act of independence and I’m proud of it.”
The outrage against Calhoun still vibrated within his chest and Whitney wasn’t certain what to say to Shanna. In some ways she was like his own daughter. “But—“ he looked at her stomach.
She knew he meant well. “No ‘buts.’ There’re lots of single mothers in this country, Senator. No big deal. I’ve just become another statistic.”
It wasn’t nearly as simple as that. There were things to consider. “And your ex’s name has just become mud. He’s not going anywhere in this town.” He glanced at Brady, annoyed that this had been kept from him. Goddamn it, he was practically family. “’Least not on our coattails, your daddy’s and mine.”
Shanna placed a restraining had on Whitney’s arm, her expression serious. “I don’t want anyone ‘fighting’ for my honor, Senator. I can take care of myself. This is between Jordan and me.” Her expression softened to an affectionate smile. “I don’t want anyone taking him behind the woodshed and giving him ‘what-for.’ Or ruining his reputation. He’ll do that on his own, just give him enough time.”
Whitney looked at Brady, who shrugged, indicating that it was out of his hands. “Sassy and stubborn. Quite a gal you’ve got here, Brady.”
Brady smiled the wide, beguiling grin that his constituents had all come to know and trust. “I’m just getting to find that out.”
The time slipped by so quickly, Shanna had difficulty remembering which month she was in. There was the business of maintaining the office on a day-to-day basis, plus her father’s reelection campaign had wound up to almost a fever pitch. There were rallies, speeches, reports, not to mention sessions of subcommittees to help him prepare for. There wasn’t a moment’s peace, an island of time to seize and savor.
It suited her needs perfectly.
Initially she had been assigned to doing very little at the office. Aaron Haggerty, the man who had run the senator’s office ever since Brady had arrived in Washington, had known Shanna almost as long as Whitney had. Brady tended to attract people who remained loyal to him. Consequently, they all operated like a well-oiled machine. Shanna’s capabilities were an unknown when she joined, much like the law students who came to apprentice in the summer months. Haggerty had no idea if she was just temporarily on the scene, satisfying some desire to dabble in the world of the working class, or if she intended to stay on. He observed her progress carefully. As her proficiency became evident her workload increased. At her insistence, her responsibilities became even greater. Fast, efficient, and eager, she doggedly undertook and managed to do the work of two.
Choices (A Woman's Life) Page 13
