Dare to Submit

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Dare to Submit Page 12

by Carly Phillips


  When her doorbell rang, she pulled her covers up higher over her head and ignored it. Of course, whoever it was wasn’t giving up, but neither was she giving in. Eventually they’d go away.

  Finally, there was silence. “Thank God.”

  “What’s wrong? Do you need a doctor?” Brad asked, striding into the room.

  “Oh my God, you scared the crap out of me!” She jerked up in bed and put her hand over her pounding heart.

  “Have key, will enter,” he said, dangling the set she’d given him for emergencies.

  “This isn’t an emergency,” she told him. “Go away.” She slid down into the bed.

  “When you don’t show up at work, it is one.” He settled on the edge of the bed and pulled the covers away from her face. “Decklan didn’t take the news well?” he asked, sympathy in his voice.

  “Decklan had already seen the news.” She groaned at the memory of his cold greeting and everything that had followed.

  “I’m so sorry.” Brad held out his arms for a hug, and she accepted the comfort, laying her head on his chest.

  “He’s so hurt and angry.” She didn’t get into the personal details of the confrontation. Those were between the two of them. “The thing is, he’s not wrong.”

  “No, he’s not. But if he knows you as well as you say he does, he’ll understand you have a big heart and you were helping out a friend.”

  She looked up at him. “He understands that I didn’t put him first. I didn’t choose him over you. And you know what? He’s right,” she said, coming to that revelation for the first time.

  She pushed herself up against the pillows and folded her arms across her chest. “If I’d seen him on television being announced as soon-to-be-engaged to another woman, I’d not only lose my shit, I’d probably want to kill him.” Looking at it that way, she was lucky he’d only had her strip before changing his mind.

  As she realized how selfish and stupid she’d been, another lump formed in her throat. Both she and Brad had been selfish. “What happened with Keith?”

  He settled onto the edge of her bed with a resigned sigh that didn’t bode well. “He was watching because I’d given him a heads-up once I realized there’d be a press conference. And when I got home, his bags were packed.”

  “What? It’s not like he didn’t know about our charade, so why now?”

  “The announcement drove the point home that we’d never have a life together. He didn’t want to live that way,” Brad said, his pain evident.

  “God. So we both lost someone we love.” She blinked, the word love spilling off her lips and the realization slamming into her. She loved Decklan. She wasn’t sure why her emotions had taken so long to crystalize. Maybe, because like everything else in her life, she’d never felt this depth of feeling for another human being other than Brad. And that was deep friendship.

  She choked back a sob. She wasn’t the only one suffering.

  “Is he really gone for good?” Brad asked.

  Amanda shrugged as the tears came again. “I think he needs time, but I don’t know if he’ll ever trust me.”

  And once again, she was forced to admit if the situation were reversed, she didn’t know if she’d be able to re-extend that kind of faith and trust. Not when it had been so hard won to begin with. And it had, for both of them.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked her best friend.

  “I’m going to do what I should have done from the beginning. I’m going to come out to my parents and hope for the best.”

  Amanda blinked. “Really? You’re ready for that?”

  “I’m not ready to lose the man I love.”

  She wished he’d come to this conclusion before her life had imploded, but she couldn’t tell him that. And it wouldn’t change anything. “What do you think he’ll say?”

  “Publicly, he’s opposed to homosexuality and same-sex relationships. But that’s the party line. I’ve always known it and I never pushed the issue.” He dipped his head. “I think I’ve been a coward. I used his political future as an excuse.”

  “It’s not easy, I’m sure.”

  “Come with me to tell him?” he asked her, placing his hand over hers.

  “Of course.” She wouldn’t send him alone. After all, the senator might not be her father, but this was her lie too.

  * * *

  A few days later, Amanda found herself at the senator’s newly and quickly established campaign headquarters with Brad. She’d pulled herself together after that first twenty-four hours, climbed out of bed, and returned to work. She’d promised to stand by Brad as he came out to his father, and she planned to keep her word.

  They were met by Mitchell Dawson, the senator’s campaign manager, a weasel of a man who Amanda had disliked the first time they’d met. Her view hadn’t changed. He greeted them cordially but without warmth and escorted both her and Brad into the senator’s large office … and stayed. He didn’t excuse himself or walk out.

  Amanda shot Brad a concerned look but he shrugged. She took that to mean he’d expected the other man’s presence. Mitchell was always around, even in the Ritter’s personal get-togethers, silent but there, another reason Amanda found him creepy.

  “Bradley, Amanda! So good to see you both.” Stephan held Amanda’s hands and kissed her cheek. “You look pale. Are you feeling okay?” he asked her.

  She nodded. “I came down with something, but it’s gone now.” She managed a smile.

  “Well, good. Bradley, take care of your girl.” He patted his son on the back. “I’m sorry your mother couldn’t be here too, but she’s still in New York meeting with the strategists we hired.”

  “It’s okay. I’ll talk to her when she gets back. Umm … Dad, can we talk alone?” He inclined his head toward Mitchell, who held up the wall behind the senator’s desk.

  “Come on, Brad. I’ve known you since you were this big.” Mitchell gestured to a much lower height.

  Stephan glanced at Brad, who shook his head.

  “Mitchell, please excuse us. Let me talk to my son and Amanda.”

  “But—”

  The senator straightened himself to his full height. “Go, Mitchell. I’m sure you have plenty to do.” He shot the other man an insistent look, forcing Mitchell to stride out, grumbling his displeasure.

  He left the room but didn’t close the door completely. Amanda couldn’t find a way to tell Brad, so she let it go.

  “Let’s sit.” Stephan gestured toward the couch and chairs in the corner of the office, obviously placed there for more intimate conversations.

  They all settled in.

  “So what’s bothering you?” Stephan asked, leaning forward in his seat.

  Brad reached for Amanda’s hand and held on tight. “Dad, I know you think Amanda and I are going to be getting engaged. I know you love her and so do I. But the thing is…”

  He squeezed her hand harder. A quick glance told her he’d broken into a sweat. As difficult as he’d thought this would be, it was clearly that much worse.

  She squeezed back, conveying her support.

  “The thing is,” he began again, “I’m gay.”

  “I know.”

  Amanda blinked, startled. He knew?

  Brad coughed hard. “What? For how long? And why didn’t you say anything?”

  “Bradley—”

  But Brad wasn’t finished and he went on. “Why did you not only let us perpetrate this … this charade, but push even harder by practically announcing our engagement on TV?” he asked, his voice rising along with his obvious frustration.

  Stephan touched Brad’s back. “Son, if you weren’t ready to come out, it definitely wasn’t my place to do it for you.”

  Brad turned a healthy shade of red.

  “And let’s face it,” the senator continued, “your relationship benefited both my career and place within the party.”

  Amanda listened in disbelief, remaining silent, as this wasn’t her family or problem.

>   “But your career and the party is the only reason I didn’t come out before now.” Brad rose to his feet and began pacing the floor in front of the senator’s big wooden desk. “I didn’t want to destroy something you worked your whole life for, so I remained silent. Meanwhile, this lie has been eating me alive for years. It’s put a wedge between me and the man I love, and it’s cost Amanda as well.”

  Senator Ritter stood and Amanda did the same. “Bradley, do not put your choices on me. I never once asked you to lie or pretend to be something you’re not in order to benefit my career. You did that yourself. Admittedly, I let you, but don’t mistake your choices as anyone’s but your own.”

  Brad’s shoulders slumped in silent acknowledgment of his father’s words.

  “I’m not saying I don’t appreciate that you cared so much about me and my career. I do and I’m grateful. But let’s be clear. I didn’t ask or demand it of you. I would never do that.”

  In that powerful reply, Amanda saw the man who would possibly one day be president. A man who was strong enough to believe in himself, to be selfish enough to let his son suffer without once giving him an out, and a man capable of twisting a situation while keeping things just on this side of the truth and come out on top. Because the fact was, the senator had valid points. She and Brad had made their choices. And now they had to live with the consequences.

  Brad ran a hand through the hair he’d styled well before coming here today. More evidence of the fraud he perpetrated in front of his father. Not that he realized it. Clearly, they both had growing up and changing to do.

  “My God. I can’t believe you knew.” Brad’s eyes were red-rimmed.

  The senator placed an arm around his son. “So what now? I know you came here to do more than tell me that you’re gay.”

  Brad drew himself up straighter, owning himself and his new choice. “I want to come out publicly. I figure if Dick Cheney’s daughter is a lesbian and his career survived, yours will too.”

  “The hell it will,” Mitchell said, storming back into the room.

  To her surprise, Amanda had forgotten he was listening.

  “We’ve worked too hard to get to this point for you to blow things up at this late date.” The campaign manager’s face turned beet-red as he spoke.

  “Mitchell, calm down. We don’t live in the Middle Ages. We can deal with this. It’s not like I didn’t have a contingency plan all along,” the senator muttered. “We will sit down with a sympathetic journalist. As a family. We’ll choose someone known for the hard questions but who we can trust to give us the right spin.” He was clearly in politician mode.

  “Does Mom know too?” Brad asked.

  The senator leveled his son with a steady look. “She raised you. What do you think?”

  Amanda winced, hurting for Brad. Both his parents had denied who he really was, using the excuse that he’d never told them. But Brad’s omission had been in order to protect his father, while Stephan’s denial had been so he could enhance his career. Or at least not sabotage it while he was on his way up the political ladder. Still, the man seemed to accept him now, and that was a lot more than Amanda could say about her own parents.

  “This is bullshit,” Mitchell muttered. He picked up a glass paperweight and looked as if he was ready to throw it through the window. Or at Brad’s head. Based on the way he glared at him, either was a possibility.

  Stephan strode over to his best friend. “Now, Mitchell, put that thing down and let’s get busy. Make a list of potential interviewers. We have to find ways to mitigate the fallout.”

  “The only way to do that is to make sure things continue on as they were. The party isn’t going to take this well. You just announced your candidacy. You bring in the heavy right wing and tea party votes and money. No one will like the fact that you’re embracing your queer son.” He sneered the word.

  Brad winced. Amanda was horrified.

  “That’s enough!” Stephan’s voice boomed through the room, and Amanda stepped away, bumping into Brad. He pulled her away from both angry men.

  “That’s my son you’re talking about,” Stephan informed him. “I don’t give a damn what your views are, when you speak of my family, you will do so with respect.”

  Despite the fact that neither man was focused on Brad himself, Amanda was, and she felt the tremor go through his body at his father’s heartfelt words.

  The senator and Mitchell continued to argue about the effect of Brad’s orientation and the senator’s plan for both the campaign and the political party he served.

  “We should go,” Brad said, interrupting when it became clear the other two men were going to be engaged in a long, hard battle.

  Stephan nodded. “I’ll be in touch with the date and time of the interview,” he said, ignoring Mitchell for now. “Until that day comes, I can expect you two to carry on? Show up at any event and continue your parts?” He asked as if it were a foregone conclusion. It was.

  Amanda knew she’d never turn her back on Brad or his family.

  “Of course,” Brad said.

  Amanda managed a nod.

  With Mitchell glaring at them, she turned and followed Brad out of the room, her mind spinning with all that had transpired inside. In the end, Brad had won a major battle and would probably come out with Keith by his side.

  She didn’t know if she could say the same of herself and Decklan.

  SEVENTEEN

  Due to a bout of the summer flu that had gone around the precinct, Decklan worked extended hours during the week. He was grateful for the distraction of patrol, but that didn’t mean he could completely keep his mind off Amanda. And he couldn’t stop replaying their confrontation over and over in his head.

  She’d obviously come straight to his apartment after the senator’s announcement, wanting to explain. Instead of just listening, he’d humiliated her—and he couldn’t get her stricken look out of his mind. Although he wasn’t the one who’d lied, he sure as hell had fucked up how he’d handled her.

  His family kept calling to check in and see what had happened with Amanda, and he couldn’t bring himself to admit the whole sordid mess. He could barely deal with it himself. But he wasn’t ready to forgive and forget any more than he could imagine walking away for good and never seeing her again.

  After his last day on patrol before a stretch of time off, he pulled back into the station lot. He parked, locked up his car, and walked inside. He had some paperwork to finish, and then he could head home. With a little luck, he was finally tired enough to sleep instead of tossing, turning, and replaying every moment in his tortured brain.

  A dark-haired man sat in the chair beside his desk. He took a quick look at the man’s profile and realized he had a visitor. Bradley Ritter. Although they’d never met in person and his current outfit, jeans and a tee-shirt with windmills and the words “Clean Energy,” were nothing like the suit and tie he’d worn on TV, Decklan still recognized Amanda’s best friend.

  Drawing a deep breath, Decklan stepped behind his desk, seeking the comfort of his own space before dealing with his guest.

  The other man quickly rose to his feet.

  “Sit down, Ritter.” Decklan followed his own instruction and lowered himself into his chair.

  “So no introductions are necessary,” Brad said, easing back down.

  Decklan shook his head. “I recognize my girlfriend’s almost-fiancé.” He deliberately made the first hit.

  Ritter shrugged the words off. “At least you’re still calling her your girlfriend.”

  Decklan groaned. He wasn’t in the mood to spar with the man. “What do you want?”

  Brad met his gaze. “So Amanda is right. You are pissed.”

  At the mention of her name, Decklan straightened his shoulders. He didn’t like hearing that she’d discussed them with another man. Even if it was her gay best friend.

  “I’m a lot of things, none of which I intend to discuss with you. But since you’re here, I think I’ll
tell you a few things about you.”

  “Go for it,” Brad said.

  “Fine.” Decklan hadn’t realized how badly he wanted this chance until now, when he was faced with the opportunity. “You may be brilliant with coding, Ritter, but I’m not sure you really understand human nature. I get that you were there for Amanda when she needed you, and that she loves you.” Just a friend or not, it hurt Decklan to even say those words.

  He leaned forward in his seat, now on a roll. “But you took advantage of her personal issues with her parents and her desire to be loved and needed, and instead of helping her get out of her own head and meet people, you made it easy for her to hide. Because it suited you. Because she gave you a cover you desperately needed.” Satisfied, Decklan sat back in his hard chair before finishing up with, “And that, my friend, is selfish. And cowardly.”

  Brad shrugged off the insult. “So is not coming out to your own family. Yeah, I get it.”

  Decklan blinked. Brad had just agreed with him. Decklan hadn’t expected that, and it frustrated the hell out of him. How could he expend his anger at the man if he wasn’t going to fight back? “What can I do for you, Ritter?” he asked again.

  “I wanted to talk to you myself. And I wanted to see the man Amanda’s fallen so hard for. Hell, I want to make sure you’re worthy of her.”

  “Seriously? You’re here to judge me?” he asked, offended since he’d been the one screwed over.

  Ritter met his gaze without flinching. “As Amanda’s best friend, I think I have the right. So yeah. I am. She’s home crying her eyes out. She hasn’t been coming into work regularly, which isn’t like her. And I want to know if you’re worth it.”

  That information wounded Decklan worse than being butted in the head with a gun. Hurting Amanda was the last thing he’d wanted. But what had he expected when he’d made her strip down, then turned her away and let her walk out the door?

  He’d been so busy feeling sorry for himself he hadn’t given a thought to her feelings. Nice. He needed to get his head on straight, whatever that meant.

  “That wasn’t my intention,” Decklan muttered.

 

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