Conscience (The Bellator Saga Book 2) (14 page)

“Are you going to be mean to me again once the sling is gone?” Caroline asked.

Christine moved the bag out of Caroline’s reach. “I’m weighing my options,” she said, popping the piece of chocolate Caroline had thrown at her into her mouth. She hunted through the bag and spied the empty wrappers on the couch. “You ate all of the caramel ones? Really?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Caroline said innocently, then thought of something. She had noticed since she returned to work that people were treating her with kid gloves, except for her close friends and staffers. They’d stop talking when she walked into a room and would make a path for her in the tunnels when she walked over for a vote or a committee hearing. The crush of cameras during her first day back at work was overwhelming, and the number of journalists still following her around hadn’t decreased. It was irritating.

“Your interns were looking at me funny,” she told Christine.

“They’re intimidated by you,” Christine said blandly, unwrapping another piece of chocolate for herself.

“Why on earth would they feel that way?”

Christine stared at her. “Seriously, Caroline?”

“If they’re intimidated by me, they must be scared shitless of you.”

“Probably,” Christine said, after she finished chewing.

“Do you think it’s the sling? Maybe it’s the sling.”

Christine rolled her eyes. “Yes, that must be it.”

Caroline sighed. “I used to think I was an attention monger. And now I realize I’m not.”

“You think that’s going to get better now that you’re about to marry Jack? Welcome to the fishbowl, Punky. The tabloid press is going to be all over you two, especially during the campaign. Get used to it.”

The media seemed to find their story enchanting, although it read like a highly engaging but tedious romance novel. But that didn’t mean Caroline wanted strangers talking about her every five minutes.

“What if I don’t want to get used to it?” she asked.

“Then prepare to be uncomfortable for a very long time.”

Caroline debated whether it was worth sulking over, and kicked at the floor with her heel. “This sucks.”

“Are those the shoes I bought you?”

True to her word, Christine had bought Caroline a new suit, along with a stunning new pair of Christian Louboutin pumps. At Neiman-Marcus, not Nordstrom. She purchased quite a large number of items when she and Jess took Marguerite and Sophie shopping while Caroline was still recovering. 

“Yes.” Caroline lifted up her foot, admiring one of them. Those red soles were always a dead giveaway. “They’re spectacular, by the way.”

“Well, try to be a little nicer to them. They set me back a few.”

A valid point, and Caroline crossed her legs, trying to be a little less pouty and a little more refined. While Caroline appreciated her generosity, she wished that if Christine was going to drag her daughters along that she would have gone to Macy’s instead.

Caroline saluted her. “Yes, ma’am.”

“You still want me to give you lessons on how to be more refined?”

“I thought you were going to teach me how to be a queen bee. Leading by example should take you pretty far. You should have seen the way your intern reacted when I accidentally called you Chrissy. Priceless.”

Christine gave her a hard look. “In all seriousness, you probably do have to watch that.”

“I know. Does Tom have to call you Representative Sullivan too? While he’s in your office, that is.”

Christine actually blushed. “He calls me Dr. Spencer sometimes. As a joke.”

“While he’s doing political stuff with you?”

“Yes.”

“In front of your staff?”

“He only does it when they’re within earshot.”

Caroline laughed. “Good for Tom. But that was never your title. Was it?”

“I gave some serious thought to keeping my name when we got married.”

“You’re a bundle of surprises, Chrissy. I would have never guessed that.”

“My life is a rich tapestry, Caroline. And it’s delightful when you and Tom use that…
term
for me but please, not in public.”

Caroline laughed. Christine couldn’t even say her own nickname out loud. “I know. Your reputation and all.”

“It’s not only about me. You’re quite intelligent but you’re also very colloquial. It’s a useful skill to have, and it’s a big part of why the electorate responds to you. But you have some especially critical eyes on you now and they might not find you as charming as those of us who know you well.”

She’d been hoping to escape that part of being more high profile. “Why wasn’t this an issue when I was the keynote speaker? I was all over the media map last year.”

Christine shifted her gaze. “You were very angry back then, and it showed. But you handled yourself a lot better than you thought, even with your occasional lapses in discretion. The spotlight on you is considerably brighter now than during and after the convention. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Caroline thought of the tabloid photographers who had camped out in front of her house in Rockville the day she returned to work. She never thought they’d pay that kind of attention to a low level politician but she clearly misjudged their nerve. “You have a point.”

“You’ve got to be more self-aware. Your default is to be open and friendly as opposed to guarded.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“It’s a wonderful thing. I’m thrilled that you’re so happy. But it makes you susceptible to predators.”

“What am I, Bambi?”

“No. You’re a marvelous person and I don’t want to see you get raked over the coals by opportunists and doomsayers.” 

Caroline was touched by Christine’s concern for her, but it was still contradictory. It would be impossible for her to retain her identity while keeping her hackles up all the time. “So, stop being so trusting?”

“A smidge of bitchy wouldn’t hurt.”

“You can teach that too? Your process sounds complicated. How much is this program going to cost me?”

“It cannot be taught. It is
known
.” Christine grinned. “And deep down inside, Representative Caroline Gerard is a giant bitch. The force is strong in you, my dear. I can feel it in my bones.”

“Then let’s start this instructional series.”

“It’s going to take a lot of work. I don’t know if I can get you into shape by next January.”

“Jack will appreciate any efforts you can make.”

Christine grimaced. “Yes, he’ll be thrilled if you start acting more like me.”

“As will all the fine residents of the Commonwealth, I’m sure.”

“My approval ratings are almost as high as yours, smart guy.”

“That’s because you’re best friends with America’s Political Sweetheart, Dr. Spencer.”

Christine was trying to keep a straight face, which was why it was even more amusing when she laughed. “Oh, Punky. You could afford to have a bit more humility. But the first goal is for you to stop cursing so much.”

“Fuck that,” Caroline said. “You’re failing miserably.”

“I haven’t even started yet.”

“That’s because you know a lost cause when you see one. Move on to goal two.”

“Just wait. I’ll have you sipping tea and lounging gracefully in a Victorian dress by the time we’re done with the campaign.”

“Not likely.”

Christine pressed her thumb and forefinger to the bridge of her nose, a sure sign that she was getting frustrated. A bit unsettling, the way she drifted from entertained to annoyed so quickly. Jeanine had her work cut out for her. “I worry about you, Caroline. You need to have more than just a flip reaction when you’re tested. Many, many politicos have no sense of humor, particularly when it comes to women. Some of these bloggers and pundits are sharks, and they will destroy you for sport.”

A thinly veiled comment meant to refer to something very specific. “What are you telling me?”

“I’m telling you to stop laughing at press conferences when interviewers insult you, even if it’s indirectly.”

“Oh. You saw that. What would you have done?”

“I’m pondering that one. It wouldn’t have been pleasant.”

Caroline could only imagine what Christine would unleash if someone asked a question like that at one of her press conferences. “The alternative to laughter would have been for me to tell the guy that the only reason Jack wanted to get married so soon was so we could stop using a condom.”

Christine made a face. “That would still be an extraordinarily inappropriate response to such a question. More importantly, I have no desire to know the details of your sex life, especially since it appears as if you’ve thrown your Catechism out the window.”

Caroline wasn’t sure if light kink was a venial or mortal sin, but she was willing to risk her soul anyway. Moral turpitude had proven to be so damn enjoyable that it was worth a little extra time in Purgatory. “We’re getting married in less than a month. At least we’re not going to be unmarried cohabitants anymore, right?”

“Sin is a relative term to the two of you. That is obvious.”

Funny how Christine could almost read her mind and translate her words like that. “So, you don’t want to know what I did to Jack after he gave me my fabulous birthday present?”

“Dear Lord, no. I hope you’re going to confession before the wedding ceremony.”

Caroline laughed. “I probably should.”

Christine gave her another annoyed look and got up off the couch, throwing their empty wrappers in the garbage and shaking the Ghirardelli bag at Caroline. “Don’t forget to tell Father Mike about stealing my chocolate. I have half a mind to hide these from you,” she said sternly.

“Good luck. I know how your brain works. I will always find your secret candy stash.”

Christine put the chocolate back in a drawer and sat down at her desk. “I hate it when you’re right. Anyway, when it comes to this media overload you’ll be fine. Just take my advice and they’ll back away eventually.”

“That’s no fun at all.”

“Charm their pants off, then.”

Metaphorically, of course. Caroline could manage that assignment. “That’s more my speed. Do you think we’re making the right decision?”

“In what sense?”

She knew Christine wasn’t all that gung ho about their impending wedding. Caroline managed to convince Jack to let it take place at the church the Sullivans attended in Bryn Mawr. The priest agreed to it as long as they joined the parish, which they readily did. He’d done them a huge favor by fitting them in; weddings at Our Lady of Good Counsel usually had to be booked over a year in advance. It was the only time Caroline had ever used her position as a public servant for her private benefit.

The ceremony was only three weeks away. They agreed to keep it small but Jack had taken many steps to make it extravagant, although he grudgingly acquiesced to her demand to have the reception in his ballroom. Caroline was at the point where she wanted to get it over with. Christine had made some random comments here and there, nothing too specific, but enough for Caroline to pick up on the fact that she had some serious reservations about the whole thing.

Caroline stuck to the safer topic. “The gubernatorial race. Do you think Jack can win?”

Christine leaned back. “With you by his side? Without question.”

“Do you think I’m silly for giving up my seat?”

Jack hadn’t been exaggerating. It was a lot to throw away. The seat would have been Caroline’s for as long as she wanted it. She nipped the leadership talk in the bud quickly when she announced she wouldn’t be running for re-election. Now she was catching heat from progressives and activists who thought she was setting a bad example by giving up her career.

“I understand why you’re not running again,” Christine said. “You may be getting some flak from your feminist buddies but I get it.”

“Feminism is supposed to be about
choices
,” Caroline grumbled. She had learned long ago that it was impossible to please everyone, but found some of her critics’ hypocritical bluster infuriating.

Christine rocked back and forth in her chair and crossed her arms. “Not to get all mushy on you, but it’s not going to be the same on Capitol Hill when you’re gone.”

“Wow, someone’s certain she’s winning. Already planning on moving over to Dirksen, eh?”

Christine arched an eyebrow. “Are you saying I’m going to lose?”

Caroline smiled. “You’re going to blow your opponent away. But things would have changed anyway, Chrissy. You’d be in the upper chamber with Ellen, leaving me all by my lonesome in the House.”

“I know.” Christine looked out the window. “But we would have been in the same city. I still would have searched you out every day. I’m just going to miss you when you’re in Harrisburg. That’s all.”

That was probably about as mushy as Christine was going to get. “You make it sound as if a victory for Jack is a foregone conclusion,” said Caroline.

“You don’t think so?”

“I honestly have no idea.”