“So, the idea in hiring Annie was…” Kip looked at her father and felt his heart drop to his feet. If he was going to get help from the senator, he had to be completely honest with him, no matter the consequences. “I was eager for Annie to introduce us so we could talk about this bill. We have all the votes we need in Congress, but I was hoping you’d get on board and the Senate would fall in behind you. Plus, your influence on the Appropriations Committee would guarantee Wentworth Global would get the bid. If that happened, I would be in line for several key congressional positions, as well as financial gain.”
“Interesting.”
“Yeah, we had it all figured out.”
“Sounds like a pretty underhanded plan,” George grumbled.
“It was…it is. But, sir, believe me, I had no intention of talking to you about this bill today. No intention of carrying out the plan.”
Kip and her dad jumped when they heard the front door slam.
“Damn door. When the wind catches it just right, it rips right out of your hand. Gotta have someone look at that,” her father said. “Go on, son.”
“Well, to be honest, I want out from under this thing. Since meeting Annie…everything has changed. In the process of getting close to her, so that I could get close to you, I’ve…well, sir, I’ve fallen in love with you daughter.”
“I thought that might be the case.” George chuckled and took another sip.
“She’s made me see this bill is a bad idea—that my constituents don’t want a pipeline running through their backyards. My constituents—the people I grew up with—are more important than any political clout I might gain. She’s done all kinds of research and polled the folks in my area. It if weren’t for her, I’d still be wrapped up in this mess with no regard for the people I care most about.”
“Isn’t the vote on Tuesday?”
“It is. I met with the Speaker last week and he told me it was too late to do anything about it. I’ve tried to talk to Tom, but he won’t listen, probably because he’s been promised God knows what by the Wentworths. I’ve met with the Energy Committee and several key legislators. They all tell me the same thing. It will probably be political suicide, but I’m going to do all I can to stop it. If I could, I’d stop the Wentworths, too.”
“Why don’t you let me help you? I’ve been down similar roads before. And I can tell you the first thing we’re going to do is call a friend of mine—a lawyer. Because I think you’re going to need one.”
“A lawyer?” Kip felt his eyes bulging, a streak of fear surging through his veins.
“If you want to really make a difference…you need to stop people like the Wentworths. They are a poison that runs unchecked in Washington. John Wolfe was another one. I’ll stand beside you all the way.”
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate this…more than you know.” For the first time in weeks, Kip felt a glimmer of hope that the pipeline could be stopped and he could get out from under the crushing scheme.
The men stood and shook hands. Senator Cooper’s piercing eyes bore into Kip. “I’m glad you and Annie found each other. You’re a good man, Kip. Lord knows Annie hasn’t exactly grown up seeing what a good man looks like. I’m doing my best to change that. Now, we better get back out there before we’re in hot water with our women.”
Kip and George walked back onto the patio, where Marjorie was serving warm bowls of her homemade peach cobbler with whipped cream.
“Marjorie, my love, I believe you’re trying to fatten me up.” Annie’s father took a big bite and dropped into a cushioned lounge chair.
“Where’s Annie?” Marjorie asked.
“That’s what I was just wondering.” Kip looked through the French doors into the sunroom. “Maybe she’s still on the phone with Emberly. I’ll find her.”
Kip strolled through the sunroom, retracing the route back to the foyer. When he opened the front door he found Annie sitting on the steps with her head in her hands. Her hair fell around her like a curtain and he couldn’t see her face.
“Hey, babe, still on the phone?” he asked.
Annie shook her head.
“Your mom is serving dessert. Do you want some?”
Once again Annie shook her head and said, her voice strained, “Take me home please.”
Kip sat down beside her on the steps and reached out to brush her hair out of her face. Annie pulled away as if a jolt of electricity had run through her.
“Are you okay?”
Annie shook her head. “Just take me home.”
“Why don’t you get in the car and I’ll tell your parents we’re leaving,” Kip said.
He stepped through the patio doors and said to the Coopers, “I’m sorry everyone, but Annie isn’t feeling well. I’m going to take her home.”
“Oh, Kip, such a shame. We were enjoying the two of you so much. Tell Annie to feel better and I’ll call her later. Maybe we could have dinner sometime next week.” Annie’s mother reached up on her toes and gave him a hug.
“Kip, let’s talk again tomorrow morning. In fact, I might give you a call this evening if that’s okay with you,” George said, gripping Kip’s hand.
“Absolutely. I need all the help you’re offering, sir. Thank you.” Kip said goodbye to Annie’s sisters and their husbands and then walked out of the house, being careful not to let the front door slam.
He climbed into the SUV, turned the key, then turned to Annie. “Babe, are you feeling sick?”
Annie replied with a quick nod.
“Oh, man, I’m sorry. I’ll drive slowly. If you need me to pull over, just tell me, okay?” Kip lifted her hand and kissed the back of it just before Annie pulled it away.
On the ride back to the district, Annie stayed silent, all the while staring straight ahead through the windshield. Kip kept up a monologue about meeting her parents.
“Your parents are just great, babe. I thought it went well, didn’t you?” When Annie didn’t answer, he went on. “I liked your brothers-in-law, too. In fact, Jim asked me to play golf with him next weekend. I told him I’d check with you…didn’t know if we had any plans.” Annie continued to stare through the window, her gaze unfocused. Kip reached over and pressed the back of his hand against her cheek. “Do you have a fever?” Annie turned her face away and slumped into the seat.
“Okay, I’ll let you be. I know when I’m sick it’s better to just leave me alone. I understand. How about I turn on some music and you can rest until we get back?” Kip turned on the radio to a classical station but kept the volume low. The thirty-minute trip continued with only the strains of violin music and the sounds of passing cars.
Twenty-Six
“How long have you known?” Annie felt numb, shell-shocked as she looked through the windshield; the parked car ahead of them was a mere blur. Kip had pulled the SUV to the curb a half-block from her apartment and cut the engine.
“What do you mean?” he said.
“How long have you known?” Annie rotated her head toward Kip as if someone were turning a crank, making it move mechanically. She took a deep breath while closing her eyes. When she opened them, she exhaled and nearly screamed, “How long have you known I was Senator Cooper’s daughter?”
“Annie.”
“Damn it, answer the question.”
“Let me explain.”
“Answer me! When?” The numbness drained from her body and she felt her whole being fill with rage. How dare he act like he didn’t know what she was talking about? His avoidance of the question proved his guilt.
Kip reached out to take her hand, but she pulled away. “Okay, okay.” He threw his hands back in surrender and glanced out the window as if looking for answers. “Tom called me right after he met you in the bar. He told me who you were that day.”
“Oh, my God.”
“Please just listen and I’ll explain everything.”
“I don’t need an explanation. I know about the whole plot.”
“What?”
“I heard you telling my father that you needed his vote. The only reason you hired me was to get to him.” Annie turned away from Kip and dropped her head in her hands. “Everything makes sense now. I’m such an idiot.”
“Babe, listen to me, please.” Kip draped his arm around her shoulder, but Annie shrugged it off. “If you’ll give me a chance, I’ll tell you everything.”
As if in a trance, Annie recounted the past few weeks in a dull, lifeless monotone. “How did I miss it? You came on so strong and I was flattered. I let you screw me on your sofa. Fell for your stressed-out I need you, Annie.” She released a strangled laugh. “How could I be so stupid? I fell for your bullshit. Romancing me at your cabin…oh, my God. You never took me seriously from day one. You brushed me aside when I wanted to help. You ignored the research and the things I overheard. Of course, you had no intention of dropping the bill. I should have known you were just using me.” With tears streaming down her face, she turned to Kip and said, “You’re no better than John Wolfe or my professors or any other creep that wants something from me because of my father.”
“But I am dropping the bill.”
“I heard you. I heard you asking my father for his vote and support in Appropriations. Your secret is out.” Annie reached for the door handle, but Kip reached across and locked her hand under his.
“Wait, Annie, you have to hear me out. I promise you it’s not like that.”
“I’m tired of your promises.” She elbowed his arm away and pushed the door open, rushing away from the car without shutting the door. Kip climbed out and ran after her. He reached out his hand and pulled her around by the arm to face him. He gripped her shoulders and leaned down to her eye level.
“Annie, please don’t walk away without hearing my side of the story. You’ve jumped to conclusions before and they were wrong. Don’t make the same mistake.”
“I’m the one making a mistake? I don’t think so, Kip. I think I’m done. I’m just…done,” she mumbled and then hiccupped a sob.
“We’re not done. Don’t say that. Do you hear me? I love you, Annie.”
“Oh, great. Nice time to throw out the L-word, Congressman. A cornered animal will do anything in times of desperation.” She tried to pull away but he had her locked tight in his hands.
“I’m not saying it out of desperation…well, maybe I am. But it’s true. I love you. Don’t you get that?” Annie felt his hot breath against her face; his nose was nearly touching hers and his eyes seared into her own. For a split second, she considered throwing herself against him, kissing him with all her strength, hoping what he had just said was true. But she gave herself a mental shake, reminding herself once more that she had been duped.
“You know what I get?” she seethed. “I get that I got a liar manhandling me. Maybe I should scream for help.”
Kip dropped his hands and stepped back from her. He turned in a full circle and then stepped to within inches of her face again. “A liar, huh? Is that what I am? Well, let’s not forget who spewed out the first lie in this scenario.”
“That was different.”
“How so? You lied about your identity from the very beginning. What if I didn’t know who you were? I would have hired someone using an alias. Sounds pretty unethical, if not illegal, to me.”
“I told you who I am. You could have confessed that day.”
“How could I? You told me you’d be crushed if you thought you were hired because of your father.”
“So you admit that was why I was hired?”
“Yes, damn it, yes—that was why you were hired. But if you’d listen, I can tell you that I aborted that plan weeks ago.”
“I’ve had enough of your lies.” Annie rushed toward her apartment building.
“Congratulations,” he called after her. “Since the day you met me you’ve been trying to find me guilty of something. Well, now you have. Good for you.”
“It was only a matter of time,” she yelled back.
“Fine. Stay up on that high horse of yours. Ignore the fact you started this whole thing.” Kip closed the gap between them in a few long strides, blocking her entrance to her building. “Have you ever considered maybe you put yourself in these situations? Big deal—you’re a senator’s daughter. Stop acting like a child. At least your dad’s still here, and he’s a better man than you give him credit for.”
“You don’t know anything.” She stepped left and then right, trying to get around Kip’s blockade.
“I know that you’re being stubborn, unforgiving, and self-righteous. Maybe when you fall off that high horse, you’ll come to your senses.” Annie felt a clenching ache in her chest as she watched Kip storm away, taking long, fast strides toward his car. She took a timid step forward, considering going after him, but just as quickly that familiar rage surged through her body. She jerked open the door and ran to the elevator.
Tuesday morning Annie sank chin-deep in a tub of scalding hot water full of iridescent white bubbles. She hadn’t slept well the past two nights, perhaps because she’d spent Sunday evening and all day Monday lying on her couch watching old chick flicks, eating more ice cream than she would have consumed in a typical month, and crying—more accurately, sobbing—over Kip. She couldn’t believe it was over. She couldn’t believe he had lied to her—that he’d known her true identity all along—and that he had used her. She chastised herself again for being such a sucker, a target for plots and schemes. What was the matter with her? Couldn’t she be loved and respected just for her? Why couldn’t people just be honest? She thought Kip was different. She trusted him. She loved him.
She missed him.
Annie began crying again, but this time the tears fell silently down her wet cheeks. Maybe he had been right. Was she stubborn and self-righteous? Her father certainly thought so.
Monday morning Senator Cooper had called to ask how she was feeling and she blurted out, “What do you care?”
“Well, now, Annie bug, of course I care about you.”
“Really, Dad? What I seem to remember is being ignored most of my life and you never being home. The only time you showed any concern for any of us was when the press was around.”
“Annie, that’s not fair.”
“Not fair? I’ll tell you what’s not fair: getting dressed up in our finest for the annual Christmas picture so you could send out cards to your constituents and supporters showing you and your perfect, happy family. But come Christmas morning, you weren’t even there. Or how about being paraded around at campaign appearances every six years when you didn’t have the decency to come to my dance recitals or school plays? Was that fair? And, what about the scandals—”
“I’ll admit I’ve made mistakes in my life, but believe me—I’ve paid for them.”
“Oh, really? Like when?”
“Like now. You’re furious with me. We can’t even have a level-headed conversation.”
“I don’t see the point. We never have, so why start now?”
“You know, Annie, I’m not the only one who makes mistakes.”
“Oh?”
“You’re not immune to the occasional error in judgment.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about Kip.”
“Don’t stick your nose in my personal life…not now.”
“Honey, now is the best time for me to stick my nose in. You need to hear Kip out.”
“Oh, great…first he gets you on board with this pipeline and now he has you intervening on his behalf with me. Save it for someone who cares.” Annie tapped off the call and threw her phone across the carpeted floor. She had spent the rest of the day intermittently crying, fuming, eating, and crying some more.
When she had woken up Tuesday morning and saw her frightening reflection in the mirror with her puffy eyes and dark circles, she decided she would no longer play the victim and get on with her life. She drew a hot bath and tried to relax for a few minutes before once again starting a new job search and pu
tting the past behind her.
After her bath, Anne donned her favorite sleeveless dress, applied her make-up to perfection, straightened her hair with a flat iron, and slipped on her strappy sandals. She picked up her laptop and shoved it into her messenger bag, and opened the door, planning to head to the Starbucks on the corner for a latte while she scoured job sites. Standing in the hallway with his fist in the air, ready to knock, was her father.
“Dad, what are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to pick you up,” he said, stepping into her apartment.
“Pick me up for what?” Annie shut the door and lowered her bag to the floor.
“We’re going to the Hill. There’s something important you need to see.”
Annie crossed her arms over her chest and glared at her father. “There’s nothing important on Capitol Hill that I need to see. I’ve seen and heard enough.”
“There you go again with that stubborn way of yours. Or mine, I guess. You had to have gotten it from somewhere.”
It was the second time in three days someone had called her stubborn and she didn’t like it. Speaking her mind, doing what she wanted to do, and standing up for herself wasn’t what she’d call stubborn.
Senator Cooper sat on her sofa and laced his finger together, resting his elbows on his knees. He looked up at Annie, who was still rooted to the same spot beside the door.
“You know, Annie, I’ve learned a lot in my sixty years; some things took longer to understand than others. When I was your age, I was probably as stubborn and determined to be right as you are.”
Annie puffed out a breath. “What are you talking about?”
“Come sit beside me. I want to talk to you.”
Annie inched toward the couch, looking at the floor. She could feel her temperature rising and she wanted to scream. He was messing up what had begun as a potentially productive day and the last thing she wanted to do was listen to her father’s rhetoric. She gingerly sat on the opposite end of the sofa.
Whatever You Call Me Page 21
