“You’re so full of shit.”
“Tsk-tsk, Mrs. MacBride, you’re betraying your roots. The Langford is hardly a honkytonk.”
“And what are my roots? Do tell me, Mr. Hewitt.” I wasn’t going to point a rifle at this guy, but if my words were bullets, he’d look like a slice of Swiss cheese by now.
“The same as Joshua’s, and that’s why the outcome of your marriage is a foregone conclusion.”
I couldn’t help asking. “Why?”
“Because ambition is the engine behind your husband’s success, not love, although...” he tilted his head sideways as if conceding a point, “… he’s very good at this young family man charade. Voters love that and he knows it.”
I wanted to break this asshole’s nose. “Get out of my sight.”
He raised his glass and turned. I watched him walk away and looked for where his salute had been directed.
“I told you to avoid Hewitt,” Josh cut in. His jaw was locked.
“Good evening to you too! Long time no see.”
“He’s a snake.”
“And Megan Alistair is a cow, but here you are being all chummy with her.” I knocked down half of my glass for some Dutch courage to face Josh’s polar gaze.
“I wasn’t chummy with her. She introduced me to Senator—”
“—Van thingy, I know, Leader of the free world and beyond. Your friend Hewitt gave me a briefing.” Another gulp of champagne. “How does your ex know him anyway? They’re not exactly the same level on the food chain.”
“He’s her godfather.”
The champagne went down the wrong way and I coughed. Thank God I managed not to spit out anything, but I wasn’t getting any help from my beloved. He just kept looking at me. When I’d recovered, he added: “She’s the one who invited me tonight. I didn’t want to accept but she suggested you come along too.”
Of course, the girl was smart enough not to piss off the wife while making her way into the husband’s good books.
“Should I go and say Thank You then? Or maybe I should write her a card?”
Josh made a point of ignoring my sarcasm. “You said you wanted to know my world. So here we are. You can’t get much closer to it than this.” He waved a hand at the crowd, in their tuxedos and designer dresses.
I waited for Josh to comment on how I looked. It’d been all for him, for him to be proud of me, but he didn’t say anything. Instead he nodded at some guests passing by. It was as if there was a wall of ice between us.
After several long minutes passed with me fidgeting in my corner, he finally asked, “Don’t go mental but Megan invited us to spend the weekend in the Hamptons. She’s having friends over. I told her we probably wouldn’t come but I wanted to ask you first. You’ve never been.”
I’d never been anywhere really but, hell, I was going to look like a loser. “I won’t be able to go anyway. I mean, I don’t think I will.”
“Why?”
“I’ve been asked to go to L.A. to record a duet with Shawn.”
“And what’s keeping you from accepting?” His question fell between us like an axe.
“You said we should take those decisions together as a family, so I told Shawn I’d check with you first.”
“That’s very considerate of you.”
I, for one, didn’t miss his sarcasm. I dropped my glass onto a passing tray and turned to face him with the room behind me. “Cut the attitude, MacBride. You’re angry about what happened in Steep Hill. I get it. You’re angry with me because I went all cowboy on your father, but I know you’re even angrier with yourself. Because more than anything, you hate losing control.”
Ten days apart and I’d had plenty of time to chew on what happened.
Josh threw several glances over my shoulder. “Watch your tone, Cass. We’re not in—”
“—in a honkytonk. I know. Hewitt already gave me the low-down.”
He shrugged. “You shouldn’t have talked to that jerk in the first place.”
“You can be such an ass.” My voice broke off. All the pent-up tension since Christmas was taking over and piling up in my throat. I wasn’t the crying type, but my eyes started tingling. I had to leave before making an even bigger fool of myself.
I sliced through the crowd keeping my head down so that no one could see the turmoil all over my face. I went through the barrier by the men in black without incident. I waited for the elevator but, after ten seconds, I couldn’t stand it any longer, so I opened the door to the service stairwell. As it shut behind me, I heard my name.
Josh had come after me. I didn’t care and went down the first flight of stairs at pace. These freakin’ stilettos of mine were the only thing in the way of me getting the hell out of there. I kicked them off and my bare feet resented the cold of the tiles. I picked the shoes up and hurried away.
“Cassie!” then another “Cassie!” I didn’t slow down. “Cass, I’m sorry. Please wait.”
I stopped and waited for him to catch up with me. He rammed his hand through his hair. He’d had it cut as soon as we’d returned to D.C.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I was an ass up there, but we need to talk about what happened with my father.”
I had my back against the wall of the stairwell and, with my shoes off, he now had an even bigger height advantage over me. I didn’t need that. “You’re right. We need to talk about that and…” I had to come clean. “… and how I pushed you away after losing Lucas for Christmas.”
“I’m angry with you for what happened in Steep Hill, but I’m even angrier with myself.” I didn’t say anything, so he continued. “I’m angry with myself for doing too little, too late. The truth is that I knew my father would stand in our way and I didn’t do anything about it. I waited and waited until he dropped his bombshell and screwed us up.”
“Hopefully he’s out of the picture now, and—”
“—I’m angry with you because you beat me to it. You did what I should have done six years ago.” I kept staring at him. “Six years ago, I should have pointed a gun at him and—”
“And what? Fired it? Going to jail for life wouldn’t have really helped with our family plans. You were right.”
“The truth, Cass,” he repeated, “is that I still feel the same as in high school, like you don’t really need me. I want to look after you, after Lucas too, but you’re always one step ahead.”
If there’d been a chair nearby, I’d have dropped my butt on it. I hadn’t seen that coming. “I’m sorry. That’s—That’s not how I want you to feel. At all. Everything I do now—my music, Lucas — that’s because you’re by my side, because you believe in me. Even me learning how to cook, that’s you.”
Josh chuckled and I indulged in the dimples creasing his cheeks. He took one step toward me, then a smaller one. “I’m not sure the cooking is a blessing or a curse.” My back straightened up against the wall. His eyes searched mine and I couldn’t escape his hold on me. He lowered his head so that his mouth came an inch from my ear. His voice was coarse when he said, “Sometimes… I’m scared of you.”
My head tilted in surprise and the skin of my cheek came to touch his. “You’re not scared of anything,” I answered in one breath.
“I’m scared of how reckless you make me. Or of how reckless I want to be for you.” His hands came to rest around my waist. Slowly they slid down my thighs. He lifted one of my legs slightly so that the hem of my dress eased up. His hands snaked back up but they were brushing over my skin this time.
My whole body became tuned to only the tips of his fingers. “Josh, not he—”
“I’m scared of how my heart takes over as soon as you come close.” I shut my eyes as if the sound of his voice had stolen my sight. His hands palmed my ass and my legs parted to welcome him. He was hard against the thin material of my thong. “I’m scared of how my whole body comes to life by simply hearing your voice. So when you sing...”