The Secret Son

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  Jefferson was passionate about his stand.

  It was up to Erica to present that stand to his peers—and to the world. She wrote speeches. Spoke to the press. Approved releases. Counseled and convinced until she could hardly think of anything else.

  Except Kevin.

  Nuclear weapons might never be more than stored threats to the world. But they were slowly killing her.

  Her phone rang.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi.” Fighting the familiar twist of desire at the sound of that voice, Erica looked out her office window and watched the people hurrying along the street. The sun was shining on the nation’s capital.

  “How are you?”

  “Same as I was yesterday,” she said, trying to contain the happiness she felt at hearing from him so soon. Since she’d told him about Kevin, he’d been calling a couple of times a week. “What’s up?”

  “I’m worried about you.”

  That made two of them. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

  “How’s Kevin?” The question came as it always did since their conversation almost a month ago, with a mixture of compassion and reticence.

  “More frenzied than I’d like.”

  “Has he got any new interests?”

  “None.” Ridiculous as it was, she found an odd comfort in sharing her worry about Kevin with his father. In this, it didn’t seem to matter that neither boy nor man had any idea of their relationship.

  She was trying to relax about that. She knew her decision to keep her secret was the right one for everyone concerned. And because her own relationship—for want of a better word—with Jack was a long-distance one, it was relatively easy to keep Kevin’s paternity from him. Since his visit to Washington, he’d never mentioned the new job. She assumed he’d turned it down.

  “So what’s it going to take to get you feeling like yourself again?”

  “The nuclear bill is coming up in another month. They’re holding a special vote in early October. And Kevin starts first grade. I’m relying on both of those things to make life a little less demanding.”

  “He’s in a private school, I hope.” The immediate sharpness in Jack’s voice was a bit of a shock. He was usually so calm.

  “Of course.”

  “It should be a small one. Security’s easier to manage.”

  “It is.”

  “I’m assuming you’ve chosen one that’s used to having senators’ kids.”

  “Yes.” She frowned. Before now, Jack had just listened when she spoke about Kevin. Or asked her if she’d “talked to his counselor.”

  “They’ve got the means to provide proper protection?”

  “Yes.”

  “And it’s close by?”

  “Right down the street.”

  “So you’ll be taking him and picking him up.”

  “Either I’ll do it or Jefferson will.”

  “Are there any provisions for concealed-weapon detection?”

  Jack, who usually instilled a feeling of safety and peace, was starting to scare her. “It’s only first through third graders,” she told him.

  “Right,” he said slowly after a brief pause. “Sorry.” His tone had changed.

  “No problem.” She was glad he cared.

  “My beeper just went off. It’s urgent.”

  “Okay.” She knew what that meant. It had happened before. “Be careful.”

  She could tell his mind had already left her as he muttered goodbye.

  For the first time Erica wondered how much longer she could pretend that she didn’t worry herself sick whenever he got a call.

  Would this be the time he got shot?

  And who would notify her if he did? Who—besides Jefferson—would know that Erica Cooley had even met a hostage negotiator named Jack Shaw?

  “I’M WORRIED about you.”

  Erica looked up to see Jefferson standing in her doorway.

  What was it with the men in her life? They all seemed to be worrying about her. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t survived every single crisis she’d ever had to face.

  Of course, “men in her life” was a relative term. Men outside her life, on the periphery of her life, having once been in her life, but not now—that would be a more appropriate description. At the moment Kevin was the only man in her life. And she’d give just about anything to have him be a little boy again.

  “There’s nothing wrong with me that a good night’s sleep and some exercise won’t cure,” she told him, smiling.

  He came in and closed her door. Erica’s smile faltered.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” He didn’t meet her eyes. “I just wanted to discuss something with you that I’d rather not have overheard.”

  He sat in the chair in front of her desk, resting an elbow on the arm.

  Alarm struck her. “What is it, Jeff? You aren’t…sick or anything, are you?” It had always been a secret fear of hers. That he’d have a heart attack or develop some other critical illness. He drove himself as though he was thirty, rather than sixty-five. Sometimes she’d forgotten he wasn’t closer to her own age.

  “No, I’m fine,” he assured her, looking up with a completely reassuring grin. “Just had my yearly physical this week, as a matter of fact. Not even a tinge of high blood pressure to worry about.”

  She relaxed, leaning back in her seat. “So what’s up?”

  “What do you think it would do to my image if I got married?”

  Her heart froze. “Now?”

  “I’m not sure.” His eyes, when they finally met hers, were filled with compassion. Pain. Anticipation, too.

  “You’re thinking of asking Pamela to marry you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?” It wasn’t a proper question. She asked it, anyway.

  “Because I love her.”

  Erica was honestly pleased to hear that. Relieved. Thankful that he had a chance to be happy.

  Yet something inside her was dying. This was almost worse than when he’d asked for the divorce. This was the death of all hope. Not that she’d really expected them to get back together. She’d probably consider marrying Jefferson again if he’d asked…but she knew it would be for the wrong reasons. A desire for security, for protection from life’s emotional ups and downs, did not make a good basis for marriage.

  “I’m sorry.” Jefferson’s voice was low, almost expressionless.

  She hadn’t realized so much time had passed. “No!” She jumped up, came around to sit in the chair next to his. In the old days she’d have been on the floor at his feet. “Don’t be sorry, Jeff! I’m happy for you.”

  “You know I’ll never stop loving you,” he said now. His look, when he met her eyes, was dead serious.

  “If you mean that,” she began, choosing her words carefully, speaking slowly.

  “Of course I do,” he inserted into the pause.

  “Then do you think we should give us another try?” she asked.

  Succumbing to her own needs, she dropped to the floor, her arms in his lap. “I can try to be different,” she said, even while she knew in her heart that she wouldn’t be. Had she been capable of feeling passion for Jeff, she’d have felt it long ago. But… “Think of Kevin…” she whispered.

  His glance was warm, familiar. He was considering her request. Was going to say yes. Erica was flooded with relief. And joy, too, she supposed.

  And then he shook his head.

  “Why?” But she knew.

  “Are you still talking to Jack every week?”

  “Yes.”

  She knew the phone calls would never lead to anything else. That she couldn’t allow them to. Because of Kevin, of course, but for her own sake and Jack’s, as well.

  But Jefferson realized that she’d never be able to respond to him with the passion he wanted. Needed. Deserved. Because for some reason, Jack was the only one who’d ever been able to excite that particular feeling within her. Under those circumstances, living with Jefferson
would be unfair to him and their son. Her feelings for Jack—whether she chose to do anything about them or not—would damage all of them. They’d been through this.

  “Do you…when you’re with Pamela, does she…do you…” She didn’t know how to ask if he was able to forget Erica when he was in the other woman’s arms.

  He seemed to understand exactly what she was asking. His eyes were clear and bright as he looked down at her.

  “Yes.”

  Erica felt like crying.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  RUDY STOPPED BY to see her again. He wanted to know how the senator planned to vote on an upcoming budget issue. It was information he knew Erica wouldn’t give him. Except that he had an ace to play.

  Pretending a calm she didn’t feel, she bought herself a couple of days. But she was still shaking an hour later when she sought out Pamela Woods.

  The tall, slender, gray-haired woman was standing at a bookcase in her office, reaching up for a book. Erica waited in the doorway for a moment, watching her from behind. With those long legs, the classic hairstyle, the deep-lavender silk business suit, she looked regal and every bit the successful attorney she was. Erica could see how Jefferson might fall for such a woman.

  Still, it hurt.

  “Oh!” Pamela said, turning. “Erica, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were there.”

  “I should have said something.”

  “No, no, that’s okay. Come on in.”

  It was odd hearing that eager tone from a woman who usually spoke with such authority and confidence. This woman was the one person in the world who made Erica feel unsure of herself. Was it possible she had the same effect on Pamela?

  It was something to ponder. Another time, perhaps.

  Closing Pamela’s door, she took a seat across from the other woman’s imposing oak desk. There wasn’t a paper or a folder out of place.

  Erica’s desk was usually littered with ten projects at once.

  “What can I do for you?” Pamela asked. She sat in the chair beside Erica’s rather than in her own behind the desk.

  “I have a problem I need to discuss with someone….”

  “Okay.”

  Reading the other woman’s open gaze, Erica relaxed a little. “It’s a rather sensitive issue.”

  “I figured as much, or you wouldn’t be here.”

  She was smart, too. Of course, she wouldn’t have held Jeff’s interest if she wasn’t.

  Erica had to work hard not to let herself feel intimidated. “What I’m about to say is something that, in a way, I have no right to tell you, but I’m being subtly blackmailed.”

  Pamela sat up straighter. “Have you told Jefferson?”

  “No.” Erica shook her head and took a deep breath. “I know what he’ll say if I do, but I also know it’s not the best way to handle this. Problem is, I’m not sure what is.”

  Leaning toward Erica, both hands on the arms of her chair, Pamela said, “Why don’t you tell me exactly what you’re talking about and we’ll see what we can figure out.”

  She’d come to the right place.

  “Kevin isn’t Jefferson’s son.”

  Pamela’s gaze wandered and then settled back on Erica. “I know.”

  “You do?” She felt ridiculous when she heard her own incredulity.

  And hurt beyond anything she’d have expected. Jeff had told this woman his and Erica’s most private secret. She felt betrayed all over again. Worse even than when she’d walked in on the two of them in Jeff’s office the year before.

  With compassion in her eyes, Pamela nodded. “I know that Jefferson is sterile. It came out when he was telling me about his college experience and the year he got so sick….”

  “So you know about—”

  “I don’t know who Kevin’s biological father is,” Pamela said before Erica could give her any more information. “Jefferson felt terrible when he realized the implications of what he had told me and refused to say any more. For all I know, you were artificially inseminated.”

  Erica nodded. Not in affirmation, just acknowledgment of possibilities.

  With that issue taken care of, she got straight to the point.

  “Rudy Wallace found out about Jefferson’s sterility.”

  “Oh, God.”

  “The first time he came to me with the information, he promised not to use it if I gave him a behind-the-scenes exclusive on my divorce. I made the mistake of believing him. He wrote the piece—and now he’s back.”

  “The article that came out about a month ago, quoting you as admitting that you weren’t able to, uh, perform your marital duties?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “Jefferson was pissed as hell about it.”

  “I know.” She’d been on the receiving end of her ex-husband’s temper for an hour over that. It had been an odd experience, having Jefferson fume at her.

  “And now Rudy’s pressuring you again,” Pamela said.

  “He wants to know where Jefferson stands on the budget.”

  “You can’t tell him.”

  Erica looked at the woman and then said what they both had to be thinking. “But I can’t let him print that story about Kevin.”

  “There’s no other alternative. Jeff wouldn’t want you withholding it for his sake.”

  Pamela’s familiarity with Erica’s ex-husband was hard to take. “I know.”

  “So let’s consider what would happen if it came out.”

  Erica shook her head, adamant. “It can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, the most obvious reason is Jefferson,” she said. “With his opposition to nuclear rebuilding—and people accusing him of being afraid to support a bold move—on top of the divorce, the bad press could kill him, and I’ve already hurt Jeff more than I can stand. I can’t do it any more. Ever. If I can give him nothing else, he’s got my loyalty for life.”

  “It’s a good reason. Very good. But maybe not enough.”

  Humiliated by what she had to say next, Erica glanced down at the black pumps she was wearing. They were suede. Matched her black suede suit.

  “If this gets out, Kevin’s biological father will know that Kevin is his.”

  Pamela didn’t flinch at the backhanded but still obvious admission of Erica’s adultery.

  “Shouldn’t he know?” There was no condemnation in the older woman’s voice.

  “No,” Erica said. And then, “I agree that a man deserves to know when he’s fathered a child, but this is different. The news would be devastating to…this man.” Briefly she told Pamela about Jack’s past. “He won’t risk losing so completely again. So he’s avoided the commitment of family.”

  “But if he’s faced with a fait accompli…”

  “I don’t think so,” Erica said. She told Pamela a little about Jack’s job—not that he was a hostage negotiator, just a law-enforcement official who faced frequent danger.

  “So, another good reason,” Pamela conceded. “But still, maybe not enough.”

  “The strongest motivation is Kevin himself,” Erica said, her confidence returning as she thought through the situation. “You spend time with him,” she said, hating to acknowledge Pamela as a part-time mother figure in her son’s life. “You know what a hard time he’s having. There’s no way I can upset him with a scandal like this.”

  “Even worse than the scandal is the shake-up it would bring to his entire world if he found out Jefferson wasn’t his father. You and Jeff are the little guy’s sole security, and that’s already taken more of a beating than he seems able to handle at the moment.”

  Erica swallowed, impressed by Pamela’s sensitivity. For a split second she experienced the bizarre impulse to lay her head on the other woman’s lap and be comforted.

  “So what do you suggest I do?” she asked.

  “Let me talk to this reporter,” Pamela said. “It’s possible that a lawyer’s perspective might change his mind. Blackmail’s not only ugly, it’s illegal.”
<
br />   “So he stops harassing me, but what’s to stop him from printing the story?”

  “He’s already blackmailed you,” Pamela said, smiling as though the two of them shared a secret. “He prints the story and we press charges. He doesn’t, and we agree to forget the whole thing.”

  “You’re good,” Erica said admiringly.

  “It’s why I’m sitting in this office.”

  Arming herself for her meeting with the wily reporter, Pamela asked for particulars, dates and times, all of which she wrote down. They discussed exactly what had occurred between him and Erica—as closely as Erica could remember.

  They agreed that they wouldn’t mention this meeting to Jeff.

  And then they’d finished discussing the problem.

  “Do you ever wonder what it would be like if Kevin and his father had a chance to know each other?” Pamela asked, filling the awkward silence.

  As eager as she was to escape, Erica couldn’t deny the urge to speak about the things that tore at her heart. She wouldn’t have chosen her ex-husband’s lover, but there was no one else. She’d separated herself from friends her own age after her first divorce, preferring long weekdays to facing their sympathy—and hearing about their love affairs. And the people she and Jefferson had socialized with had all been his friends—his age—not hers.

  “I think about what it would’ve been like if I’d met him before anything else happened. Before we married other people. Before he suffered so much.”

  “You don’t ever think about them meeting as things stand now?”

  Erica shrugged. “Of course I do, but I just don’t think that’s possible. It’s all so messed up. So unfair. Yes, I’d love to have them know each other. Kevin’s father was really athletic. It would be great if Kevin learned to ski or mountain climb. And I’ve occasionally thought that Kevin could really help…the man, too. He’s so good with kids it’s obvious he has a deep affinity with them.”