“I wrote the song with you. I’m sure your producers already know that.” Otherwise my newly-appointed lawyer would make sure to remind them.
“Damn, Cass, you’re slow on the uptake. This time it isn’t about you-the Songwriter. It’s about you-the Singer-and-totally-gorgeous-duet-partner.”
I let his words settle down in my brain. “You mean—“
“—yeah, I mean, fly your ass down to L.A. right now and put your warmest smile on, because you’re gonna meet a helluva lot of people. Important people.”
The silence that followed was totally anti-climactic. It was the breakthrough I’d never let myself dream of, but I kept my mouth shut and simply leaned against the back of my chair.
“Cassandra O’Malley, hellooo? Did you just die and go to Heaven to sit between Cobain and Morrison?”
“I can’t come. Right now, writing songs is all I can do. We’ve had a big setback with the adoption and—”
“—you can’t say ‘no,’ Cass. You’re not going to say ‘no.’” Shawn’s voice was dead-cold. I’d never heard him sound like this before. Not with me anyway.
The DNA test had come back and Josh was in the clear. Trisha and the D.C. caseworker had checked our story with Lenor. The judge seemed to be happy. So, it was all good but I wasn’t going to stretch myself too thin right before Lucas came to live with us. “I can say ‘no.’ I have to.”
“Why? It’s just a duet. You hop on down to L.A. in first class, all expenses paid, and come and spend a couple of days with me to record the song. You meet a lot of great people and lunch with Will. He’s your agent now. Then, we wait and see what the studio executives think of the duet.” Another puff on his cigarette. “That’s it. I’m not asking you to drown your newborn.”
It sounded so simple. No big deal.
I checked the time in the bottom right corner of my screen. Shawn was right: I had to move my ass, but not to L.A.
“I was on my way out when you called and I really can’t be late. I’ll call you tonight, I pro—“
“—I want your answer tonight, Cass. Please don’t screw up like you did back in Phoenix.”
The guy had no fucking idea. “Listen, Shawn, I know how much I owe you. But we’re not in the same place in our lives right now. I’m married and I can’t make decisions like that without talking to Josh first.”
Maybe I should have checked with my husband first before pointing Gran’s rifle straight at his father? Maybe Jack MacBride wouldn’t have spent a week in hospital? And maybe Miranda wouldn’t have had to bribe him into keeping his mouth shut with a fat cash payment. Maybe, maybe…
“Talk to you later!” I hung up.
The reception I had to attend with Josh was right here in Georgetown, but I decided to call a cab.so I could make up the time I’d lost on YouTube.
When I reached my destination, I paid and got out of the cab. I stood with my feet glued to the sidewalk, then looked up at the exterior of the Hotel Langford. It was like traveling back in time and finding myself in front of the Oxford Union. Shivers ran through me. I didn’t want to relive that night, when I’d told Josh about Lucas, when Josh had belonged to another woman.
I shook myself. Josh belonged to me now and I belonged to him. What happened in Steep Hill was only a blip in our journey together. I stepped confidently into the plush hallway. In front of me spread an expanse of shiny marble tiles and antique rugs. Presidents had slept in this hotel and I understood why. This place was the real deal.
Out of the corner of my eye, I checked my reflection in the glass panel on the left of the hallway. I wasn’t going to fool anyone even with this classic black dress and matching stilettos. I’d been to the hairdresser in the afternoon to have my curls professionally tamed into a conservative bun, but the color still looked too brash, fake, even if, I swear, I wasn’t a bottle blond.
No matter if I spent my hard-earned cash, I still looked like a Midwestern gal trying too hard.
“Can I help you, madam?” I’d never been at the receiving end of a ‘madam’ before. Either I’d aged prematurely or my makeover was paying off. I smiled at the receptionist and asked for directions. I wasn’t directed, I was escorted to an elevator and then down a grand corridor to a double paneled door guarded by two dark-suited guys with little plugs in their ears. I’d noticed a few more Men in Black on my way up.
“Your invitation please Ma’am?” one of them asked.
Was the Secret Service entertaining here tonight or what? Well, it was Washington D.C. after all. Josh had asked me to bring proof of ID and I understood why now
The room I stepped into was far bigger than I’d expected. It was a ballroom topped by a dome with golden decorations all over the ceiling. Between that and the glasses of champagne circling around me, I was already feeling a little tipsy. I grabbed the first cup of bubbly I could get my hands on. That way I had something in my hand when I started my quest for Josh.
The average age of the crowd was north of forty. Or fifty. I must have looked straight out of kindergarten next to all these silver foxes. I zigzagged between the dozens of guests, loneliness starting to creep inside me. But I caught sight of that bitch Megan, and then my eyes settled on Josh. Jealousy bubbled from within. What were they doing together? I looked for something to throw at the girl—something yucky and sticky—but found nothing.
I calmed down because they weren’t actually talking to each other but listening to an older man whose face was familiar. I wasn’t into politics but I watched TV and I was pretty certain I’d seen him before. Josh’s six foot two frame hovered over the man who was speaking, but his composure was one of respect. There was no way I was going to butt in, so I hid in a corner and tried to make my champagne last.
It wasn’t right though. I’d come here to learn about Josh’s world and going all anti-social now wasn’t going to make it. I forced myself to crack a smile at some neighboring guests. They smiled back so I stepped into their little group and tried to follow what they were talking about. The next education bill or something. I prayed nobody was going to ask my opinion. Because I had none.
From where I stood, I couldn’t miss how Megan stole some hungry sideway glances at my man. But he wasn’t looking back at her. Ha-ha! Meanwhile, the politician was taking his sweet time and I was getting bored.
“Mrs. MacBride?” and then another “Mrs. MacBride?” Finally the voice reached me and I turned around. It took me a couple of seconds to place the guy’s face.
“Hi! You’re Peter…?”
“Peter Hewitt.”
“Nice to see you again.” Not really, but it was Washington and I was here for Josh. Hewitt had Estevez’s ear.
Peter took two glasses of champagne from a passing tray and handed one to me, while taking my empty glass away. Two brews was my weekly quota for booze, so this was dangerous territory for me.
He nodded at the older man opposite Josh. “Senator Leland Van Ark,” he said. I answered with an arched eyebrow, so he explained, “He’s the Senate Majority Leader.”
I kept myself from whistling. Not really the place.
“And the pretty girl next to your husband is—”
“Megan Alistair. We’ve already been introduced. She’s an old friend from Georgetown.”
Hewitt took a sip of his bubbly and the next words hissed through his lips. “I see.”
I shifted my body so that I could face him straight on. “And what do you see exactly, Peter?”
“Joshua MacBride is a smart man. He operates openly enough so that the women in his life don’t suspect anything underhanded is going on.”