The Power and the Glory

by Kimberly Lang

  Aspyn bit her tongue. It was a good thing she didn’t hope for a future career in espionage. She sucked at any attempt to be covert or stealthy. But if Matthew thought her “hots” were one-sided, that was good. A little embarrassing, but still good. At least no one knew she and Brady were sleeping together. “I appreciate your concern, but …”

  “I get it. I understand why women fall for him. But take some advice from someone who’s been around this game longer than you have?” He stood and leaned over her. “Politics can make strange bedfellows in the literal sense, too, because it’s all about making the most of moments and opportunities. In order to do that, people have to be expendable. You might be an optimist now, but politics eats optimists for breakfast. I like the Marshalls—Brady, too—but they didn’t get where they are today without using up and discarding more than a few people.”

  She couldn’t stop her shoulders from stiffening. “Wow, that’s a harsh thing to say about the people who pay your salary.”

  Matthew shrugged. “That’s not a condemnation. That’s just the way this works. There’s no such thing as harmless crushes or easy affairs in D.C. Someone will use it against you.”

  There was no good response to that statement. “I’ll try to keep that in mind for the future.”

  “Yeah. I recommend you do. Especially if you think you want any kind of future around Capitol Hill.” Matthew’s parting shot didn’t mask his hurt and anger, and he stayed on the far side of the room after that.

  First Lauren and now Matthew? Ugh. She’d believe Lauren was working with Brady’s best interests in mind, and Matthew might be coming from a place of jealousy and disappointment, but both of them seemed to believe she was the only one in any danger. It was both funny and embarrassing. And slightly insulting when she really thought about it. She and Brady were from different worlds, true,

  but being told she was expendable and not good enough had her hackles up.

  Why do I care what they think? She and Brady were having a good time. No one was being used—or maybe they were using each other. Politics might make strange bedfellows, but this wasn’t politics. It simply was what it was. Nothing more, nothing less.

  As long as they both knew that, there wasn’t a problem.

  “Tell me again how you’re not sleeping with Aspyn.” Ethan’s voice was just loud enough to be heard over the music, but not loud enough to carry to others’ ears. “And just for laughs, try to make me believe it.”

  Brady kept his eyes on the crowd. With Congress adjourned until after the election, this was very much a collection of the local movers-and-shakers and the atmosphere was deceptively festive. However … “This is not the time or the place to have that kind of conversation.”

  “You’re the one who brought her. You’re practically advertising it.”

  There must be at least three hundred people in the room. Two hundred and fifty of them probably hadn’t noticed Aspyn was even present, and those that had were too busy furthering their own interests to care about one activist-turned-campaign staffer. And it wasn’t like they arrived together. “Aspyn hasn’t had a chance to meet Dad yet—”

  “Lucky her,” Ethan mumbled into his glass.

  “So,” Brady continued like Ethan hadn’t said anything, “this is a simple, low-pressure way to accomplish that. And since Aspyn has been toying with the idea of getting more involved with politics, this is a good way for her to network.” He watched as Aspyn laughed over something with a Supreme Court clerk. “Plus she’s enjoying herself. Someone here should.”

  “At least you’re not denying it. Avoidance I can respect, but denial would be beneath you.”

  Brady turned on him. “Why are you here anyway? I thought you weren’t coming.”

  Ethan shrugged. “Ah, the Grands can be very persuasive—especially when they double-team. Like I’m going to disappoint Nana? Lily would kill me.”

  He looked pointedly at the empty space around them. “Yet Lily’s not here.”

  “She’s not a Marshall yet, so she intends to use that excuse for as long as she can. Nice try changing the subject, but we’re still on the topic of Aspyn.”

  “Aspyn is none of your business.”

  Shaking his head and tsking quietly, Ethan pretended to think. “Interesting. See, I got this lecture back when Lily and I first got together about all the problems and pitfalls awaiting those who date outside their tax bracket. There was something about scandals and lawsuits … Hmm, now who delivered that lecture?” Ethan paused, then pinned him with a stare. “Oh, yeah. You.”

  He didn’t need reminding. “Well, you obviously didn’t listen.”

  That earned him a chuckle. “And that surprises you? Anyway, you were wrong.”

  “I was not wrong. In fact, I stand behind everything I said. It can be a problem.”

  “Your relationship with Aspyn seems rather hypocritical then.”

  “Aspyn and I have an understanding. This is a different situation.” He could split hairs with the best of them, it seemed.

  The look on Ethan’s face said he was completely aware of what Brady was doing. “Really, now. How very interesting.”

  “Not really. Your relationship with Lily could have blown up in your face—and it nearly did. You just got lucky.”

  Ethan grinned. “Very lucky. And speaking of getting lucky …” He scanned the room until he found Aspyn.

  “Look, there’s Granddad with Senator Caffery. Caffery’s still bitter he spent twenty years in the Senate and remained the ‘Junior Senator.’ Maybe we should go save Granddad.”

  “You go save him.” Ethan flagged down a passing server and handed over his empty glass. “I’m going to go introduce myself to Aspyn.”

  Good God, there was no telling what Ethan would say to her. Brady sighed. He had no choice but to follow in his brother’s wake.

  Aspyn’s smile widened as she saw him approaching, but it remained cool and polite. She had learned fast, and every day Aspyn seemed to fit in better, but without losing her identity in the process. She’d taken the standard D.C. cocktail party uniform and made it her own, choosing a forties retro-inspired dress and taming her curls into soft waves around her face. It was appropriate, yet totally Aspyn at the same time. She looked stunning—but he’d told her that already—and he was amazed and proud at how well she was handling the crush of people and power and money.

  “Aspyn, this is my brother Ethan.”

  She shot him a look at his surly tone, but hers was the perfect mix of polite and friendly. “I certainly see the family resemblance. I’ve heard so much about you, Ethan, that it’s nice to finally meet you.”

  “I could say the same about you.” Ethan leaned closer to Aspyn. “Don’t trust anything Brady tells you about me.”

  Her head cocked to the side in a perfect imitation of confusion. “That’s funny, Brady said the same thing about you.”

  Brady bit back a laugh, but Ethan took it in stride. “Quick and loyal and pretty. I approve, Brady.”

  Aspyn blinked. “Excuse me?” She looked at Brady for help.

  He shook his head. “Just ignore him. I do.”

  Ethan, however, wouldn’t be ignored. He snagged two glasses of champagne from a waiter and handed one to Aspyn. “Are you having a good time, Aspyn?”

  “I am. It’s not at all what I expected.” She leaned forward and wrinkled her nose. “Name tags would be very helpful, though.”

  “What happened?”

  “I didn’t recognize Representative Delany and kind of told him that the groundwater protections in the new House bill were a complete joke.”

  Brady burst out laughing, causing Aspyn to frown at him. At Ethan’s questioning look, she confessed her sin in hushed tones. “Mr. Delany wrote that bill.”

  Ethan toasted her. “Good for you, Aspyn. D.C. needs more people unafraid to speak the truth.”

  Aspyn looked a little embarrassed. “Well, it’s certainly easier when you don’t know who you’re talking
to.”

  “Trust my grandsons to find the prettiest woman in the room and monopolize her time.” Granddad reached for Aspyn’s hand and clasped it in both of his. Smiling at her the whole time, Granddad barely turned his head in Brady’s direction as he ordered, “Brady, humor an old man and introduce me to this delightful young lady.”

  Ethan rolled his eyes and Brady didn’t bother to hide his grin. Granddad’s charm was legendary—if bordering on corny—and Aspyn didn’t seem immune. “Granddad, this is Aspyn Breedlove, who recently joined the campaign staff. Aspyn, this is my grandfather, Porter Marshall, who was a very good senator before he became a terrible flirt.”

  Aspyn frowned in his direction before turning her smile on Granddad. “It’s an honor to meet you, Senator. Your work on human rights and environmental policy is legendary and an example all public servants should strive to emulate.”

  Ethan shot Brady an impressed look. Aspyn was good.

  Granddad beamed. “I like this one. Smart as well as beautiful. You need to hold on to her, Brady.”

  That coughing to his left came from Ethan. Both Aspyn and Granddad turned toward him, and Ethan recovered with a “Something stuck in my throat. Sorry.” Brady tried to stare him into good behavior, but the idiot merely shrugged.

  “I’m afraid Brady’s going to have a hard time getting rid of me,” Aspyn said in a conspiratorial whisper. “I know I haven’t been around that long, but the whole experience has been amazing and so much more fun than I imagined. I’m learning so much, and I’m very excited to see what’s next.”

  Ethan made another choking noise, and only their audience kept Brady from going for his brother’s throat. Ethan must have realized how close to death he was this time and turned his attention to the other side of the room. “Look. There’s Russ Andrews. I need to speak to him. Aspyn, it was really nice meeting you,” he finished, barely keeping his amusement out of his voice.

  Aspyn looked slightly confused and Brady knew he’d have some explaining to do later. Granddad, however, defused the moment by patting Aspyn’s hand and shaking his head. “Ethan’s an odd one sometimes. He gets that from his grandmother.”

  Then, with timing too perfect to be coincidental, his father joined their little group. “I’ll be sure to tell Mother you said that.” His father put on his best senator smile. “Now, who is this young lady?”

  “Dad, this is Aspyn Breedlove. Aspyn, my father, Senator Douglas Marshall.” He watched carefully as they shook hands and Aspyn mentioned again how much she enjoyed working for the campaign, but there was no glimmer of recognition in his father’s eyes. Damn. Once the impetus to get Aspyn off the news and under their wing had passed, Dad had completely and conveniently forgotten she existed.

  And Aspyn was quickly figuring that out. Her smile lost its brightness and shadows clouded her eyes.

  “Dad, we were definitely right to bring Aspyn on board. The outpouring of comments from across the state—and across the country, really—has been unprecedented. People seem to like knowing they have a real person listening to their concerns.” Still nothing but generic nods from his father, and even Granddad was beginning to frown in his direction. So much for subtle hints. Brady forced himself to laugh. “Aspyn should be careful or else half of Congress will be handcuffing themselves to her to prove they’re listening, too.”

  Finally his father caught on. “It was a rather unorthodox situation that brought you to us, Miss Breedlove, but it’s wonderful having you on staff. You’ve definitely blown the dust off and shaken up the way we thought to do things.”

  “Thank you. It’s been an eye-opening experience.” Although she kept her voice steady, he could see the disappointment and disillusionment dawning in her eyes. He wanted to kick his father for hurting Aspyn like that. And he wanted to kick himself because deep down he’d known this was a possibility and he’d still let Aspyn get in this position.

  “Glad to hear it. And thank you for your hard work.” Thankfully his father was ready to move on to the next circle of people, and he made his goodbyes.

  Granddad smiled supportively in Aspyn’s direction. “I think I need to go speak to Justice Williams. Wonderful to meet you, my dear.” He gave Brady a look that clearly said “Smooth it over” as he left.

  From the look on her face, smoothing it over would be difficult. “Dad’s impressed and Granddad really likes you. I think you can consider yourself a success tonight.”

  “Your grandfather is wonderful, and Ethan seems nice.” She leveled a stern look at him. “The senator isn’t impressed, though. He doesn’t know me from Adam’s house-cat. You could have just told me, you know, and I wouldn’t have pushed so hard to get to meet him.”

  “Dad’s just busy. He’s got a lot of people working for him, so don’t take it personally that he couldn’t place you. He forgets my name sometimes, too,” he teased, but the joke fell flat.

  “I see,” she said in the tone he’d learned meant she was actually still drawing her conclusions and not liking them.

  “Remember how I told you campaigns and governing were two different things? Dad’s been focused on the governing part recently. Now that Congress is on break, he’ll be shifting focus to the campaigning. If you’d met him a few days from now, when he’s firmly in campaign mode, I’m sure he would have placed you instantly.”

  “If you say so,” she said, relenting only the smallest bit. “I’d hate to think I sold my soul to the devil and he didn’t even appreciate it.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” She shook her head and drank deeply from her glass. “It’s just hard to adjust my thinking sometimes.”

  “My father is not the nicest man in the world, and not one you’d want to hang out with socially, but he’s not actually evil. Things aren’t always either/or.”

  “I know that. It’s just culture shock. This side of the fence isn’t exactly what I thought it would be sometimes.”

  “I know. But you’re doing brilliantly.” He wanted to reach for her, but there were far too many people around for him to cross that boundary. “And besides, after the impression you’ve made tonight, you’re going to have bigger, better connections than just the current Senator Marshall.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “I thought the Marshalls were the biggest, best connection a girl could have in Washington.”

  “We like to say that, but, in reality, it’s probably not true.”

  “Liar.” But she laughed, and her mood was shifting.

  “I’m proud of you. You’re working the crowd like a pro. And you look amazing.”

  “Thanks.” She lifted a hand to adjust his lapel, but dropped it as she looked around and realized she shouldn’t. “You’re looking very ‘future senatorial material’ tonight.”

  “Then I must go change immediately.” He was only half-kidding.

  She dropped her voice a notch. “I don’t know about that. That look seems to work for you. You’ve got a vibe going that’s very sexy.” She giggled. “I never thought I’d ever find anything about Congress ‘sexy.’”

  This was not an appropriate venue for Aspyn to be talking about “sexy.” His body was already on alert, and he had at least another hour of schmoozing before he could leave. It was a dangerous conversation to be having, but, as always, Aspyn seemed to cause him to break all kinds of rules. So he grinned and said, “Wealth and power are strong aphrodisiacs.”

  “You think?”

  “Of course. How do you think all these balding, paunchy old men get such hot young mistresses?”

  Aspyn nodded slowly, a smile curling her top lip. She waved him closer, and he bent his head forward—and the clear view down her cleavage didn’t help his current situation any—so she could speak quietly next to his ear. “And here I was just wanting you for your hot body and the great sex.”

  All of his blood rushed south at her husky tone. Aspyn stepped back before he could grab her and drag her behind the ficus and palms arranged in the corner. With a tos
s of her curls, she walked away, obviously pleased at having the last word.

  It was several more minutes before he could rejoin the party.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ASPYN cursed as she eyeballed the burned crust of her quiche. So much for her attempts at domesticity. She had her strengths, but cooking wasn’t one of them. Normally she’d accept that with no problem, but today had sucked all the way around, and this was just the topper. She refilled her wineglass and considered just going back to her place and crawling under the covers until tomorrow.

  It was a tempting thought, but she wasn’t a quitter. She glanced at the laptop on the table and the email she needed to answer. She wasn’t a quitter, but there was no shame in being a procrastinator. She needed more time to figure out how she was going to explain all of this since she still couldn’t quite explain it to herself satisfactorily.

  She went looking for another bottle of wine as she heard Brady’s keys in the door.

  “Hi.” He looked tired, rumpled from travel and magically delicious. “Something smells good.” He gave her a quick kiss and loosened his tie. He peeked over her shoulder at the stove and a crease formed on his forehead. “Oh, that’s a …”

  “Real men can eat quiche. And I promise not to tell anyone that you did.” She struggled with the corkscrew until Brady took it out of her hand and easily uncorked the wine. For Gaia’s sake, she was such a disaster she couldn’t even open a wine bottle. “How were the good people of Lynchburg and Appomattox today?”

  “Happier to see us than expected. Taylor was hoping to take that area, but polls had it leaning toward us.” Brady pulled a beer from the fridge and leaned against the counter. “After today, I’m thinking it’s definitely in our column.”

  “Our favorables are up across the board,” she said, refilling her glass. “Taylor lacks any substantial support from women or Independents, and he’s losing ground with his base. His internal polls show him shedding moderate voters like a long-haired cat in a heat wave.”