Cocky Senator's Daughter: Hannah Cocker (Cocker Brothers of Atlanta Book 8)

by Faleena Hopkins

  He frowns. “I don’t remember that. I just remember you coming to Atlanta for your junior year in high school, hating the city and going home to Boston. Leaving me all alone.”

  At first I can’t even speak.

  My voice returns much louder than before. “That’s amazing. What? No! I didn’t hate Atlanta! I moved here knowing not one soul besides you, went to a school in the elitist part of the city where everyone had grown up together and nobody looked sideways at me because I was a runt and had no sense of style, and wore those stupid braces! And my father – who asked me to come here – was absent the entire time! At least at home I had friends and I had Mom.”

  With a fight behind his eyes Dad stares at me.

  He wants to argue but he can’t against one-hundred-percent fact.

  I have a strong urge to throw this glass at him.

  His face softens on a smile. “You really did dress terribly.”

  “Don’t deflect this with humor.”

  “You thought orange and brown looked good.”

  “Stop it, Dad.”

  “And those shoes! Holes in them but you wouldn’t throw them out.”

  “They were Vans. I loved those.” I can’t hold back a smile despite my best efforts to stay furious.

  My father’s charismatically handsome, albeit a little wrinkly, face warms up more as he grins. “And those braces! I hired someone to fix you, the moment you returned to Boston.”

  My eyes go wide. “You did?”

  “I sent that personal shopper. Did your mother not tell you that was me?”

  Missing her deeply I lift my crystal wine glass, “Can we just have a truce for tonight, Dad?”

  He lifts his, too. “A truce.”

  “Thank you.”

  We clink them and both take a sip, staring off in different directions.

  He opens his mouth to speak but before the sounds form words, I cut him off. “I’m getting a place of my own!”

  His lips crinkle shut as his phone vibrates. “I have to get this.”

  The particular way he lowers his voice immediately tells me there’s a female on the other end of that line. He’s still got women falling at his feet. And after wife number seven passed away a year and a half ago, I’m sure he jumped right back on the proverbial horse.

  Sipping my wine I watch my father’s broad back as he lays an age-spotted hand on one of the dining room window frames. The front yard of his gated mansion is obscured by the darkness of the late hour. He’s laughing under his breath.

  My father is a serial-monogamist.

  He is very loyal to each of the many women he’s seamlessly tied together in an endless string of back-to-back marriages. My mother was wife number three.

  I’m his only child.

  When I asked him why, he quipped, “What, you think I’m not trainable?” with amusement in his hazel eyes.

  He acted like he was joking but I heard it loud and clear: given the choice, he wouldn’t have had any children at all. That sure does make a girl feel wanted.

  Justin

  From behind my desk I stare at Atlanta’s skyline glittering in the night, grumbling into my cell phone, “You’re shitting me, Jason. She’s pregnant?”

  My nomination to run for Senate was publicly announced today. The phone has been ringing nonstop, but is that why he’s calling? Nope. He’s calling to tell me to expect more changes in our friendship. He may not be putting it that way, but that’s what this means.

  And while my family had a dinner to celebrate the impending announcement already — and I really didn't expect to hear anything from them today — I figured my twin brother was calling to ask how I was feeling now that the world had been notified.

  I sure as fuck didn’t expect him to say, “We’re pregnant.”

  He laughs, mistaking my attitude for a joke. “I know you’re happy for me, Justin. This attitude is just an act.”

  “You keep telling yourself that,” I mutter before adding, “It’s just me and Jeremy now. Are we the only sane ones?”

  Jason laughs outright. I wasn’t joking. I’m really asking. How did this happen? How did my brothers get rings on their fingers and chains around their legs?

  Don’t they know it’s a farce?

  You never know what someone is going to do, and a ring won't stop them.

  “You watch. You’ll find a woman who makes you want to settle down.”

  “No, Jason, I won’t. I have no interest in a life of misery. I’m content watching you guys go down the rabbit hole while I stay up here in the real world.” I pick up my fountain pen, twirling it in my hand. “Look, I’m happy for you, alright?”

  That’s a lie. I hate lying. But I hate this conversation more and I want it to be over.

  “Thanks, Justin. That means a lot. Will you be the godfather?”

  “That means I would have to take care of the kid if something happens to you guys?”

  “That’s what it means.”

  “Forget it. Ask Jake. He’d be happy to. He already has a kid, and another coming. He won’t even notice if a third joins in.”

  “Justin! You're my best friend and my fucking twin. I want it to be you. C’mon!”

  Blinking into the dimmed office light I shake my head. “I can’t do it, Jason. I’m sorry. I’m not meant to be a father. Not even a surrogate one. I’ve gotta go.”

  I’m sure he didn’t like me hanging up on him, but I won’t stand up at the baptism and pretend I’d be a good godfather.

  What a mistake that choice would be.

  Give me a kid and I’ll turn it into an adult with high therapy bills.

  I’m not father material.

  Some men just aren’t.

  At least I know myself.

  Rapping on the door as she pokes her newly dyed hairstyle inside, my secretary’s gritty voice interrupts, “Mr. Cocker? I have a family dinner to attend. Is it alright if I go home now?”

  I nod with an absent wave. “Thanks for staying so long, Mary.”

  She walks into the room in a skirt and low pumps fit for J.F.K.’s era. Old people almost always wear what they wore back when they were in their twenties. Which isn’t saying much for our generation’s future. Can’t wait to see a bunch of old guys with their pants around their thighs, waddling like wrinkly penguins.

  “I’ve scheduled your first campaign trail visit to Macon, and after four more in the north, you’ll be heading south to Dublin.”

  “Two weeks to prepare,” I murmur.

  “Yes, sir. After Dublin, you’ll visit the lower parts of the state, finishing in Atlanta.”

  “When is Savannah?”

  “Right before Atlanta, sir. Second to last stop.”

  “Dublin?” I ask, eyebrows rising.

  “Yes, sir. That’s where your sister-in-law Drew is from and her family has ties in the community. I thought it would make a good stop so I organized an event there. I contacted the local reporters to invite them to attend. Should cover the entire vicinity in one fell swoop. Also spoke with the Charles family, her parents. They said they’d be happy to help.”

  I’m impressed. “You did all that?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Shaking my head, I mutter, “You really are something else. Thank you. You’ll notify reporters for all the other cities, too?”

  She nods and a small smile deepens her crow’s feet. “I’m glad you’re pleased, sir.”

  “Very. It’s all in my calendar?”

  “Yes. I also emailed the itinerary to the limousine company you prefer. Mr. Bennett confirmed a car for as long as you need one.”

  “Did you ask if Harold was available to drive?”

  “Of course. He can do every city except for Savannah, as he has a family engagement that weekend. You will have a different driver there, but Mr. Bennett assures me he’ll be just as reliable and amiable.”

  I turn my head to stare at the distant skyscrapers again. “Have fun at your family dinner, Mary.”
/>   “Thank you, Mr. Cocker.” Her footsteps fade away.

  Long after I hear the door click behind her, I’m still staring at the view. Jason didn’t even mention my big news in that phone call. Am I just being selfish? He knows how long I’ve been working on this goal.

  The phone rings and my heartbeat accelerates at the possibility that Jason realized, and is calling back to congratulate me after all. But it’s not him.

  I consider letting it go to voicemail, but answer just in time. “Hi Mom.”

  “Why don’t you want to be Godfather?”

  “Jesus,” I mutter. “Good news travels fast.”

  “Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain when you’re turning down being a Godfather. Why did you say no? What is wrong with you?”

  My shoulders tighten up. “Nothing’s wrong with me. Something’s wrong with my fucking brothers! Everyone’s having babies and falling in love. It’s disgusting.”

  “If I were there I would slap you in the face!”

  “Really? I doubt that. You haven’t slapped me since I was twelve.”

  “Actually, you were seventeen. Remember, that teacher you…” She trails off rather than say seduced.

  “That teacher I what, Mom? Learned a lot from? A whole lot? And taught even more to? That one?”

  She’s not amused, which means this Godfather business is important to her. I brace myself as she launches into a verbal set-down with motherly passion.

  “That was the last time I slapped you. After all that chaos you caused us and your principal and the poor faculty, much less that poor woman who fell in love with you, God bless her heart! Thank goodness they covered it up for you. How did we get on the subject? Oh yes, your foul language. If you think you can swear at your mother just because you’re lonely, then you have another thing coming.”

  My throat tightens. “I’m not lonely.”

  “You miss Jason. Don’t think I don’t notice these things. I know my boys. I raised you.”

  Tired of arguing, I take a slow breath. “Fine, Mom. Believe what you want. They have plenty of time to pick another brother for the honor. I don't care who does it, but it's not going to be me. You’ve wasted your time in calling me.”

  “I wish I had the power to open your heart, Justin. I don’t know when it closed… but I know it’s my fault.”

  Rubbing my forehead, I tell her, “Don’t blame yourself for who I am, Mom.”

  “It’s a mother’s job to mold her children into who they become. Who can I blame, if not me?”

  I do blame someone, but it’s not her.

  Nancy Cocker is a good woman.

  Hell, in my book she’s a fucking saint.

  “Mom, not everyone wants marriage. Not everyone wants children.”

  She’s silent for a moment. “You won’t change your mind… about Jason’s child?”

  “No. I won’t. You should have known better than to think you could talk me into it.”

  More silence, then, “Your father just got home. I have to go greet him and make him feel welcome and loved. See, that’s what happens when you find someone you want to spend your life with. They greet you when you return home. You might like how good that feels, if you tried it. Goodnight Justin.”

  She hangs up and I clutch the dead phone to my ear, face tightening more by the second. Shooting my arm out I pitch it across the room where it crashes against a wall, shattering on impact. Fragments skitter across the hardwood floor as I close my eyes.

  Jaimie

  The Realtor took me all over Buckhead, Virginia Highlands, Old Fourth Ward, Midtown, and nothing quite clicked until she showed me this two bedroom Craftsman home in Inman Park I now call mine. It’s the first property I've purchased. Until this I’ve lived solely in apartments, even while growing up with my mother.

  Even if I choose not to stay in Atlanta, I can rent this place. The Inman Park neighborhood is very hot and it’s a good investment, which I need since I’ve risen to a higher tax bracket this year.

  I'm moving slowly on furnishing it. Amazon delivered my mattress and box spring yesterday. I still need to get a bed frame. I know I'll have it forever, so I want to choose wisely. But is that what’s stopping me?

  No…it’s that I feel like I’m cheating on Boston.

  My phone’s vibration rattles on the tiled kitchen counter and I rush over to answer it. "Kate! How are you? God, I miss you."

  "I know! I had to go and see a movie by myself last night. Come back!"

  Smiling and feeling loved right when I need it, I unwrap some new glasses, plates, and silverware, while we continue to talk. "I'm setting up my new house. You have to come to Atlanta to see it."

  "I'd love to, but it'll be hard for me to get away from work for a long weekend, and two days really isn't enough is it?"

  "Well, when you can. I've only been here a couple weeks. I still need to get acclimated so I can have something to show you. If you flew down now I would have no idea where to take you in this city. The streets are crazy, kind of reminds me of Boston. There's no rhyme or reason to how they twist and turn."

  “That must feel like home, then,” she laughs. Her voice takes on a mischievous quality as she says, "I saw your boyfriend on the news.”

  Justin's nomination was announced yesterday. My father, it turns out, wasn't surprised. Apparently he had been notified via the grapevine that Michael Cocker’s son was aiming for his seat.

  Rolling my eyes on a wide smile, I remind her again, ”He's not my boyfriend. And not only have I not seen him since that plane trip, if he heard anyone call him that title he would have a heart attack. He did look good on TV though, didn't he?”

  "He's gorgeous! I still can't believe you had sex with him on a plane. I want to touch you and see if that luck rubs off on me!”

  My smile fades at the memory of how Justin and I left things. There have been nights when the memory of what happened between us was all I could think about, and it kept me from being able to sleep. I had to wait until last night, when I slept here for the first time, to touch myself and release some of that sexual tension. Couldn't do it at my dad’s. So not hot.

  "It was a one time thing, Kate."

  "Once is better than never! Just to be looking at a face like his, and kissing it, and seeing it make that sexy expression guys make when they get all hot and bothered."

  Smiling I tell her, "He's more than just a pretty face. I hate to say this, because it sounds disloyal, but my father is going to have to step it up. I’ve been reading up on Justin. Even though he’s running as an Independent I think Justin is a strong contender, and from the short debate we had on the plane he has very strong opinions and stands behind them. He's not weak in any way. He will fight hard for this. Also, and I’m sure you can guess this, but he can be very charming when he wants to be.” Kate and I share a knowing laugh before I say, “If he only gets the female vote by women crushing on him alone, he could beat my father.”

  Kate is silent for a beat. "Why are you there? You're an event planner not a campaign manager.”

  "I'm here because he asked me to be."

  "But won’t your being around Justin during this campaign trail get you in trouble? I know you're there to get closer to your dad. What happens when the months pass and he realizes that you have a thing for his opponent?"

  "I don't have a thing for Justin,” I lie.

  She snorts loudly, “Yeah right.”

  My hand flies up to argue, “Believe it or not, women can have sex and not get attached. We just had a crazy little moment. That's it. Nothing else will come of it." Stacking shiny plates in the cabinet I add in a quieter volume, "I didn't come here to get closer to my dad. I came because he asked me for help."

  "Sweetie, I know how much you miss your mom. And I know you wish you and your dad had a closer relationship. It's okay to admit it."

  "Admitting it makes it more real.”

  Her voice is soft as she asks, "And what's wrong with that?"

  "L
isten, love, I see the U.P.S. guy coming up. I've missed his delivery once already, so I have to let you go. I love you."

  "I love you too! Congratulations on the new house. I can't wait to see it."

  "Then get your butt down here right now.”

  She laughs and hangs up while I stare at the unopened cardboard boxes that were already delivered successfully.

  I didn't miss that delivery.

  Turning my iPad on I Google Justin's name some more, and add a filter of thirty days.

  I need ideas. Good ones. No, fantastic ones that will blow my father’s mind.

  When Dad asked me to come and help plan his events it confused me, too. I understand why Kate doesn’t think I’m qualified. I’m not that politically savvy, but I do know how to throw a grand party, and that’s what impresses people.

  Dad is completely ignorant of my capabilities. I’m great at my job, but he would never know that. So while I don’t know why he invited me to take on this important position, I do know I’m going to savor impressing the hell out of him.

  Upcoming speaking events at Civic Centers and college auditoriums across Georgia start popping up in the search as I scroll. While clicking through their various websites I see these are all places mapped out for Justin’s campaign.

  An idea gets my blood pumping with excitement and I reach for my phone.

  “I was just about to call you,” he answers.

  "Dad, I've got an idea." I pause for effect. "I've just discovered when Justin is speaking and where. We could kill two birds with one stone if I contact these facilities and piggyback his speeches. It will save them work having to create a new event for you on a separate day, drawing a whole new audience which everyone knows is a pain in the ass to duplicate. And we’ll still pay them the same for the event as we would have. They’ll be getting twice the money for half the work.”

  With the sound of discovery behind his tone, he excitedly adds, "It will give me a chance to hear what he's saying and refute it as if we were in a debate. Except I'll have the floor for the entire time afterward and he'll have no opportunity to get a rebuttal in.”