“Alex Santiago pouring a cup of coffee—now, that’s something I didn’t think I’d ever see.”
He turned and smiled broadly. Kat studied the woman who had sparked such a brilliant response from him.
“This is Mellie Rodgers. She is the senator’s highly capable executive assistant.” Mellie was almost as tall as Alex and was impeccably dressed in a pale pink suit that would’ve made Jackie O look fashion-challenged. Her auburn hair was styled in a chignon, and her pinch-toed maroon shoes probably cost as much as Kat’s rent. All of a sudden she felt frumpy, despite the fact that she was wearing her best suit, a tailored navy pinstripe with a gray silk blouse underneath. Of course her shoes were sensible flats since she’d known she’d have to walk a bit from the parking lot at Union Station.
“What he means is that I’m the person who keeps tabs on the senator’s whereabouts and keeps Alex in check.” She reached out and straightened his tie. It hadn’t been crooked, but was now. “If you need anything, Katerina, you let me know. Apparently we’re to roll out the red carpet for you.”
Kat stared at Mellie’s retreating figure. “What did she mean by that?”
Alex took her to his office and shut the door. He glanced in the mirror on the back of the door and adjusted his tie. Kat suppressed a smile.
“You’ll find a lot of interesting staff in this office and working for the campaign. We unfortunately have to indulge donors who make significant contributions by giving their children jobs.”
“That should be illegal.” Kat knew she sounded naive, but she couldn’t help it.
“That would make my job so much easier. During campaign years we can send them to headquarters or one of the field offices, but all of the staff here have been with us for a number of years.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because it’s understood that staff who get their jobs because of who their daddies are get limited access and responsibility until they prove their worth.”
“Oh,” she said simply.
“But you are the exception because the senator has said that he wants you to be fully involved.”
She took a big sip of her coffee, nearly burning her mouth.
He went behind his desk. The office wasn’t large, but it was certainly bigger than her closet office at the college. He had a carved wood desk with some trinkets on it but not a lot of the personal junk that normally littered desks. By the window was a more functional wood table with a computer, printer and various office paraphernalia.
The wall was decorated with photos of Alex with the senator, the president and various high-ranking congressional leaders. There was one picture on his desk that was hidden from view, turned away from where she was standing as a guest. In the corner was a pole with the US flag. His office looked like it could belong to an old, stuffy man, not at all like the other work spaces she’d seen in the rest of this modern building. It was an office with gravitas.
“So how did your conversation with the senator go last night?”
“It was fine.”
“Just fine?”
“Would you like me to wait in the break room while you prepare for our first meeting?”
He blinked then shrugged off his jacket. His muscles flexed beneath the plain white shirt. When did he find the time to work out?
“Take a seat.”
She sat in a plush leather guest chair.
“I understand Nathan sent you the policy briefs for the IED bill. I want to hear your thoughts.”
She took another swallow of her coffee. “It was an interesting analysis, taking into account perspectives I hadn’t considered when I did my lecture earlier this semester.”
He sat back in his chair, trying but failing to control the smug look on his face.
“But my position hasn’t changed. In fact, it’s even more firm than before.”
“Excuse me? Did you not read the statistics on how many lives the new technology could save?”
“My argument isn’t with the merits of the bill. It’s with the need for it. I don’t think we should be at war anymore. We need to bring the troops home and use that money to improve our schools, provide better funding to local law enforcement, bolster social security, take care of our own people.”
He laughed humorlessly. “You think we can just bring the troops home. Tell me, have you ever served?”
She shook her head and leaned forward, opening her mouth to argue about the research she had done, but he held up his hand. “I did a tour in Iraq as a reservist.”
She closed her mouth. He had served? Maybe that explained his physique. “Our troops are in danger every second of every day. IEDs are on every street corner, and we use decades-old detection technology. Is it okay to let our men and women die out there? You’re telling me you don’t support our troops.”
“I do support our troops. But we can’t keep using taxpayer money for them to police an overseas nation when our own kids are suffering in poverty, when our elders can’t afford health care, when...”
“Kat, you can’t support our troops if you don’t support their mission.”
A knock on the door interrupted their staring contest. Mellie stepped in a second after she’d knocked, not bothering to wait for an invitation.
“Alex, I had to move your nine-thirty to now so we could fit in that DOD contractor you added yesterday.”
Alex nodded. He turned to Kat. “Your job in these meetings is to listen and learn. You can ask questions, but only if they are not inflammatory. No comments or opinions.”
She pursed her lips but nodded.
The door opened and a woman in a khaki uniform walked in. Her name tag said Atao. She was tall and slim with light brown hair pulled neatly into a bun and gray eyes.
“Hi, I’m Anna Atao.”
Kat leaned forward. Was this woman here to talk about the IED bill? That seemed odd. Her uniform was from the Public Health Service Commissioned Corps, which responded to public health disasters. What did that have to do with IEDs?
Alex gestured to the guest chair. “It’s also Captain Atao and Dr. Atao, isn’t it?”
“That’s correct.”
Alex introduced Kat then thumbed through a folder on his desk. “And I understand that you’ve requested this meeting be kept private because your supervisor, Rear Admiral McKenzie, doesn’t know you’re here?”
She nodded. “As you know, federal staff are prohibited from lobbying members of Congress, so I’m here to educate you on an issue important to me. However, I’m here as a member of the public and not representing the Commissioned Corps. I wouldn’t normally come in uniform, but I have to leave for Brazil right after this meeting.”
Alex sat back. “Now that we’ve dispensed with the disclaimers, I’d like to hear your concerns. I assure you this meeting is confidential.”
Anna Atao didn’t waste any time. “Sir, babies born with atrial septal defect die unless it’s surgically repaired. The surgery is widely available in the United States and has a mortality rate of less than one percent.”
She handed Alex a piece of paper. “On that sheet is the number of American babies who die each year on the island of Guam because they can’t get that surgery. Even though their parents beg, borrow and steal the money to pay for the procedure, they die because they can’t afford airfare to Hawaii or California. Sometimes there aren’t even enough seats on a commercial flight to accommodate the baby incubator, nurse and a family member. The airlines don’t help. The military has a huge base in Guam, but they won’t get involved, either.” The woman’s pitch was rehearsed, but Kat heard a deeply buried pain in her voice.
Alex’s face was impassive as he read the information sheet, but Kat saw the frustration in his eyes. “Captain Atao, this is an issue for the government of Guam. The governor needs t
o work with Congress if he wants more resources for the island. The military base is not available to serve civilians.”
Kat glared at him.
Captain Atao stood. She put her hands behind her back and Kat noticed her fingers trembling. “Guam has no representation in the US Congress, so the people must rely on the goodwill of men like you.”
“I see here you no longer reside there?”
She stiffened, and Kat watched her link and unlink her fingers behind her back. This was personal.
“I don’t.”
“I’ll talk to the senator and try to get you a meeting with him next month.”
“That won’t work for me. As I mentioned, I deploy to Brazil for the Zika virus outbreak today. I may be there for months.”
Mellie knocked on the door to indicate their time was up.
Alex stood and came around his desk. “I’ll do what I can, but I don’t want to give you false hope. It’s a tough issue.”
Captain Atao blinked then thanked Alex and left. Mellie ushered in the next appointment. Kat excused herself and caught up with the captain. “Captain Atao.”
She turned in surprise. “Call me Anna, please.”
“Anna, what do you need for the island? Surgical facilities? Helicopters to do medical transport?”
Anna shook her head. “We need to upgrade our hospital and have a regular schedule of visiting surgeons so families don’t go bankrupt trying to get to Hawaii or the Philippines.”
She had said “our.” Kat wondered if Anna was from Guam.
“What would it cost?”
Anna rattled off a figure. “Will you help?” Her eyes held so much hope that Kat immediately regretted her impulsivity.
“I don’t have any power here, but I do want the facts in case there’s an opportunity for me to say something.”
“You know how parents whose children have cancer pray every day for a cure? In this case, there is a cure—a simple surgery. You have no idea what it’s like for a mother to watch her baby die.”
Kat reeled at the raw pain in Anna’s voice. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her faculty business card with her email address. She hadn’t gotten a campaign business card yet. Grabbing a pen off a nearby desk, she added her personal cell number. “Take this and please contact me. I will do my best for you.”
Anna nodded gratefully then left.
The rest of the morning was a whirlwind. Most appointments were scheduled for fifteen minutes, though some of the bigger players got thirty. Kat’s stomach grumbled loudly as one o’clock rolled by. She’d been too nervous to have breakfast, and now she regretted the four cups of coffee she’d downed.
Watching Alex work was fascinating. He was gracious, charming and made everyone feel like they’d gotten what they wanted from him while giving away nothing. It was quite an art form.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
“Starving.”
“How do you feel about food trucks?”
“What?”
“Come on—we have a whole thirty minutes. I’ll buy you one of the best meals in DC.”
She grabbed her purse and followed him out. They walked down the block to a street where four trucks were parked on the side of the road. Delicious aromas teased her nose.
“Looks like we have a choice of Italian, Mexican, crepes and fried chicken.”
“So it’s not the same trucks every day?”
He shook his head. “It’s whoever can get parking. They go all over the city.”
“What do you recommend?”
He pointed to the Mexican truck. “It’s a little spicy, but to die for.”
She smiled. “Why not?”
They made their way over and he ordered an enchilada. She hesitated then ordered the stuffed poblano peppers. His lips quirked. “You know that’s really spicy.”
“How bad can it be?”
“I don’t recommend it. I’m used to spicy food, and even I don’t order it.”
She gave him a coy smile. “Can’t handle the heat?”
The vendor called their order and they picked up the take-out containers. He pointed to a bench and they sat down.
Kat took a bite of her pepper, savoring the sting of spices on her tongue.
“You really do like it?” He sounded surprised.
She laughed. “I actually love Mexican. Did you grow up eating Salvadorean food?”
He looked at her, arching an eyebrow.
“What? You think you’re the only one capable of using Google?”
He took a bite of his food. “Salvadorean dishes aren’t as peppery hot as Mexican food.”
“What’s your favorite?”
He stopped chewing. “I was born here, and with the hours my mother worked, she didn’t have a lot of time to cook. I grew up eating fast food like regular Americans.”
Something in his tone made her pause. “Where did your mother work?” she finally asked.
He took his time, downing a swig of his drink. “Here and there. She worked as a housekeeper. Still does.”
Without thinking, she put a hand on his shoulder. “My mother has a degree in biology. She used to be a high-school teacher but for the past several years she’s barely held down jobs as a waitress, a check-out clerk at the grocery store, even a short-order cook at a fast-food joint. Making an honest living is admirable.”
He scoffed. “Listen to yourself. The worst your mother had to be was a short-order cook. My mother couldn’t get that kind of job. The only work offered to her were things that regular Americans didn’t want to do. Cleaning toilets, hauling out animal manure, clearing sewers.”
“Did you have to watch her at those jobs?” she asked softly.
He crumpled his napkin, threw it into his container of half-eaten food and closed the lid. “We should get back.” Standing, he threw the remains of his lunch into a nearby trash can.
Kat held on to hers; she was starving and would find a quiet moment to finish her lunch later. Alex had already started walking and she had to run to catch up to him.
“You didn’t answer my question. Did you have to watch your mother at her job?”
He whirled, his eyes shining. Of all the times she’d seen him look angry, this was the first time she sensed a deeper emotion in his eyes. Something dark lurked just beneath the surface. “Why must you persist?”
His tone should have made her shrink back, but she stepped closer to him. She didn’t want to lose this moment, perhaps the only honest moment they’d had together. He knew everything about her life, had taken it upon himself to be her protector, yet she knew very little about him beyond what he showed on the surface. “Answer the question, Alex.”
This time he stepped away from her. “Yes, I went with her. I watched my intelligent, capable mother degrade herself doing menial work just so she could feed me. I stood by while she suffered so I could have a better life. Now can we focus on work?”
The pain in his eyes was so raw that she longed to touch him, to let him know she saw it. But somehow she knew now was not the time to push him any further. He took out his BlackBerry and thumbed it all the way back to the office. When they entered, Mellie handed him a stack of messages and he asked Kat to sit out the next few meetings.
She followed him to his office anyway. When he turned to close the door, she put her hand on the frame. “I’m supposed to have full access. I didn’t drive all the way over here for you to shut me out because I asked some personal questions.”
He narrowed his eyes but she stepped closer. She wasn’t afraid of him. There was a real Alex behind the facade he presented; one she desperately wanted to see. He was the only man since Colin who didn’t physically scare her, and she needed to know why.
His hand remained on the door.
If she wanted to get by him, she’d have to squeeze past him. She wasn’t going to let him intimidate her. Two steps forward and she would be barely an inch from him. The second she made her move, he took a sharp breath then let go of the door and backed up.
Kat smiled and took her designated spot on the couch from where she’d observed the other meetings that morning—mostly constituent briefings in which various organizations came asking for money for their initiatives. They all sounded important, but her mind kept returning to Anna Atao. Kat could still hear the anguish in Anna’s voice. There was something haunting about it, as if Anna hadn’t been talking about just any baby. She opened the take-out container to finish her lunch.
“You know, you want me to open up to you about my mother but you still haven’t given me a real answer about your call with your father.”
She paused mid bite then finished chewing slowly.
“What exactly do you want me to say? He’s a stranger to me. We exchanged pleasantries. He asked about my mother and to tell him about myself. It felt more like a job interview than a reunion.”
“He’s a good man. He probably didn’t know how to interact with you. Video calls can be awkward.”
“My mother tried to contact him when she found out she was pregnant. He wouldn’t take her calls.”
“Relationships are complicated.”
Don’t I know it.
“You don’t abandon the people you love, no matter what,” she said. She pointed to the picture on his desk, the one hidden from visitors. “Is that a picture of your mother?”
He nodded and turned it around. She stood to take a closer look. He was standing next to a small woman with black hair and dark eyes who was smiling into the camera, her face filled with joy. Alex was wearing an ill-fitted shirt, his bushy hair tousled and his arm around his mother. Kat picked up the frame. “How old is this?”
“That was the day I graduated from college. Made her sacrifices worthwhile.”
The pain in his eyes was so fresh, her heart ached for him. She longed to ask him more, but a knock on the door signaled their next meeting had arrived.
The Senator's Daughter Page 7
