Chapter 5

Josephine O'Bannon loves her twin sister. Really, she does. Still seeing her get her happily ever after stings a little.

[5]

　

　

I googled Regio and realized right away that I was woefully unprepared for New York. Regio was one of the city’s hottest spots and according to Nightlife Magazine was nearly impossible to get into on a Saturday night without a reservation. Apparently Clint had some pull because the second I stepped into the place I was greeted by name and shown to a table where Clint was waiting.

 

Tanner, who had tailed me here, disappeared into a corner. I wasn’t sure how all this was supposed to work. Was he supposed to sit with me? Was I supposed to treat him like furniture like the Secret Service? This was the problem with having a bodyguard. Nobody explains the rules to you. I decided to ignore him. He’d only said a few words to me anyway, I doubted his feelings were going to get hurt.

 

Half the place was staring at me. Jo, again. It was getting to be a familiar thing, common place but no less weird. I got the stares everywhere I went lately. I looked like their hero and I was as close to her as most of them would ever get. So they stared. It was uncomfortable but it was my life now.

 

Clint stood as I approached and greeted me with a kiss on the cheek. He was looking his usual dapper self. Well, out of the three times I’d seen him he looked pretty good all three times, twice in clothes, once without. Tonight he was wearing a black suit that showed off his muscular build. As his hard and toned body pressed against mine for the kiss I was engulfed with his cologne. He smelled like a man should smell. Like I’d always pictured a cookie cutter husband in a clothes catalog would smell. Strong and manly but not overpowering.

 

“Good evening.” He said with all the casualness of a man who had already seen me naked.

 

“Thanks for inviting me out. Although I’m a bit intrigued as to why,” I admitted. I didn’t like being left in the dark and I surely didn’t like to let things linger. I was curious as to why I was here and I wanted him to know that.

  

He waited for me to sit down before he retook his seat and sipped a glass of wine that was already poured in front of him. He looked comfortable, so comfortable it was making me nervous. Confident and handsome men always threw me off my game. My last serious boyfriend had let me lead him around by the nose and that relationship had been extremely comfortable for me. It only ended because he got a residency in Oregon and I did my residency in Houston.

 

“You left this morning without saying goodbye. I had a really good time last night,” he said. It sounded genuine at least. Then again it was sex. One of the doctors at the hospital used to say even bad sex with an ugly girl is better than no sex with a pretty one.

 

“I had fun too,” I lied, maybe. It could be the truth although I wasn’t sure. It was safe to assume I did have a good time but I wouldn’t swear to it in court. I had woken up this morning with a years worth of frustration released. Even if I didn’t remember the sex I could feel the difference in my body when I woke up. Like a thousand pounds had been lifted from my shoulders.

 

He abruptly shut the conversation down as the waiter walked over, a tall young man with a thin mustache straight out of a French waiter comedy. He held a towel or a napkin over an arm that jutted out from his body at a ninety degree angle. If I wasn’t in such a fancy place I would have pointed at him and laughed. Black pants, white shirt with a thin black tie, moussed back hair. Was he serious? He looked like a cartoon character.

 

I ordered a glass of wine for myself and the waiter disappeared. I took his absence as an opportunity to peruse the menu. I had never been in such a fancy place and to my horror I realized the whole thing was in French. Too embarrassed to admit my ignorance I stared blankly at it for a few moments, trying to figure out what was French for tater tots.

 

“Should I order for you?” He finally asked me.

 

I laid the menu down in front of me and looked at him red faced with shame. “Is it that obvious I don’t speak French?”

 

He gave me a half shrug. “Not really but I tend to notice things. It’s one of the reasons my family decided I should go into politics. I fit a certain personality profile.”

 

“Your family decided?,” I asked. “Do you even want to be a politician?”

 

He sipped his wine. “Can you believe nobody has ever asked me that? Not my father, not my grandfather, nobody.” He pondered it for a minute or so then shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t have a problem with it necessarily. I mean my grandfather has mapped out this chart for me. And your sister’s wedding was the first step. Access. In a few years he wants me running for congress. Then the senate, and hopefully, Baker family prestige willing, The White House.”

 

“Sounds exciting.” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

 

“It’s not as bad as it sounds. I was working at a law firm until a few months back. THAT was bad. I hated it with every fiber of my being and my father said my grandfather had some ideas I should consider.”

 

“What kind of law did you practice?” I asked.

 

“Tax law.”

 

I laughed. “Well that’s your problem right there. Taxes are boring. You should have gotten into litigation. You could have been the next F. Lee Bailey.”

 

He shook his head with disgust. “Oh, God no. My family would have killed me.”

 

“Can I ask you a question. Something that’s been bugging me about your demographic.”

 

He nodded with interest. “Go ahead.”

 

“What’s with the fear? It’s like you guys are all afraid to offend each other. Even Luke and he shouldn‘t feel the need to worry about anybody.”

 

“Luke?” Clint asked, cutting me off.

 

I rolled my eyes. I would never get used to calling Luke Doyle. Doyle may have been his real name but he’d lived for ten years in Tennessee under the alias Luke Dodds. Everything he accomplished from the time he skipped out on his family at eighteen to find work stocking shelves in a grocery store until the time he and Jo were shot in their driveway had been under the name Luke Dodds. Suddenly having to call him Doyle seemed silly.

 

“Doyle. Even he felt the need to high tail it to Tennessee to get away from it. What’s the big deal?”

 

Clint breathed deeply. “Most of our families are rich. Extremely rich, but we personally don’t have much money unless we get a trust fund. So we’re sort of beholden to the older generation until they die and the money passes along. And most of our families hate publicity. We don’t talk about money, we don’t drag the family name through the mud, you keep your head down and do things that won’t upset your elders.”

 

Okay that sort of makes sense.

 

“The worst thing you can do is embarrass the family. Remember when Paris Hilton’s grandfather disinherited her for dragging the family’s name through the mud? That would have been a catastrophe for most people. She on the other hand always did her own thing. Like her or not she made her own fortune. I hear she’s worth more now than she ever would have gotten from her family anyway and she’s totally free to do what she wants. Most of us don’t have her gift of self preservation and self promotion though. If I got disinherited I, along with most of my generation I suspect, would be sort of lost. You grow up counting on that money. It’s like a security blanket, but it’s also like this carrot on a stick. Do what you’re told or you’ll lose everything.”

 

I nodded. “It sounds like an awful way to live. I grew up without much but I was happy. My parent’s let me make my own decisions. There was never this stigma hanging over my head that I had to be a certain way so as not to upset grandpa and end up in the poor house.”

 

Clint’s mouth curled into a smile. “What about now, you starting to feel it yet?”

 

I was actually. I’d pretty much had my future mapped out for me and I wasn’t even a part of the Lucas family. I’d gone from going back to my apartment in Houston and finding a job to moving out to the East Coast and getting a job at some concierge practice. And I didn’t seem to have a say in any of it.

 

“It’s not that bad I guess.”

 

Clint shook his head. “Just you wait. The money is a trap. It’s great, but it’s like being on retainer.”

 

I laughed. “I’m not on retainer.”

 

“Are you sure? Because you sure as hell seem to have joined the family to me. Five seconds before you walked in the door I spoke to my grandmother. I told her we were having dinner and she said you were acceptable. She gave you the Baker family stamp of approval.”

 

I didn’t see the point of telling me that. I was attractive. Successful. Of course I’d be acceptable. My whole life was about making myself acceptable.

  

“So.”

 

“So, you’ve joined the upper class. You’re one of the gang now. I mean technically it’s your sister who has the status but you’re her twin. By extension everybody knows you’ll be along for the ride. And with you being a doctor who worked her way through medical school I can’t imagine you won’t have a half a dozen guys beating down your door. Rich guys, looking for the one thing their money can’t buy them. Access.”

 

“Access to what?” I asked.

 

Clint smiled. “Power. Your sister is married to a billionaire. The second richest man on the planet. A man so powerful he changed the way people see the 1%. A man who demonstrated that people won’t resent us so much if we give them something, some reason to love us. What he did gave him a lifetime pass to spend his money freely without fear of regular people making him feel like crap for it. It changed the course of history and his family’s destiny. His uncle is going to be the President of the United States. Their family runs not one but TWO Fortune 500 companies. They are the wealthiest and most powerful family on the planet. And you being a single girl, with a good pedigree I may add, a doctor, southern and beautiful, you’re like a first round draft pick. Half the one percenters in the city are already tracking your phone number down. You’ll start to bump into them at inopportune times, just you wait. I wouldn’t be surprised if you had a few foreigners throw their hat in the mix too. A Lord here, a Duke there. Maybe some kind of Prince.”

 

He was teasing me. “Stop. Your messing with me right?”

 

He shrugged. “Not at all. You‘re very attractive Josie. And headstrong. You‘d make a great society wife. The southern accent alone is enough to make you stand out. Still you bring things to the table most of these women don‘t. Most of them finish high school and start looking for a husband. If you marry a man with a lot of money and decide not to practice medicine anymore you‘ll still be Dr. Josephine, Whatever. It gives you a certain cache. Not to mention that whoever marries you will be given access to some of the most powerful people in the world.”

 

He started to laugh to himself. “My family liked to laugh at the Lucas family when I was a kid. They used to say they were trying to buy their status. My great grandfather used to say you can’t buy class. Instead they just became so powerful nobody can ignore them anymore. Not since the Kennedy’s has one family held such sway. I can’t imagine sitting around their dinner table on Thanksgiving. I thought my family was tough. Most of my family wouldn’t cut it over there and they know it. My family is spoiled rotten. The Lucas’ tend to either go into the family business or serve in some way. One of them is a nun. An actual nun, it’s insane. My sister, I love her to death but she’s trying to cut an album to become a pop star. That’s a huge difference in family values. I can’t imagine one of the Lucas family trying to get on MTV.”

 

I laughed right along with him. “Me either. Even Doyle was a police officer.”

 

“That’s the kind of thing you can’t teach. The need for service. I hear one of them died in Vietnam. And Harvey Lucas’ only son joined the Army after graduating from West Pointe. That would never happen in my family. Nobody in my family does anything remotely risky. The riskiest thing I’ve ever done is quit my law firm. And believe it or not I’m the successful one in the family. The golden boy. Still I’m catching all kinds of hell because I’m supposed to be settling down and getting married soon.”

 

Wait, was this why I was here? “Is that why you asked me to dinner?”

 

He shifted uncomfortably. “Yes and no.”

 

“What does that mean yes and no?”

 

“Well I’m a politician, or at least I will be. If we never see one another again I need to be able to say we dated in case something comes to light.”

 

I was suddenly horrified. “Why, because of last night?”

 

He didn’t hold back. “Yes. It was my first and only one night stand. I figure if we go out to dinner once or twice it kills the story, we dated and people who date have sex sometimes. It’s a non-issue now.”

 

Something turned in my stomach. This is why I hate politicians.

 

“Really romantic.” I said not able to hide my displeasure. I’d rather be a booty call than damage control.

 

He stared at my face looking for something. “I’d love for us to see each other again.”

 

Yeah, as if THAT were going to happen.

                         

I spent the rest of the evening making small talk and being polite. My feelings of anger softened the more time we spent together but that didn’t change anything. Clint was a bit of a jerk. Not on purpose, I understood that, but naturally. He was the high school boy I never got to date in my teens. The fun, cool, popular jock who spent his time in the parking lot with his friends instead of going to class. He was everything sixteen year old me would have killed for in high school. Now it was just pitiful. I was pitiful because despite his silly plan to legitimize our drunken fling he did it in the most offensive way possible. It wasn’t about protecting MY honor, it was about protecting HIS, it was about him being a politician. And even with my knowing this I still found him funny, charming, and handsome. And if that wasn’t enough I totally would have slept with him again if he hadn’t opened his big mouth.

 

The second I stepped into my hotel room I saw the note. It had been slid under the door but that didn’t stop Tanner from doing a security check anyway. I waited for him to finish, said a polite goodnight and shut the door behind me.

 

The note was handwritten on hotel stationary. “Josephine. Looking forward to seeing you at church in the morning. Sister Margaret.”

 

Church? Was I supposed to go to church every Sunday now too? That seemed a little excessive. What if I wasn’t religious? It was nearly eleven and I assumed Sister Margaret was probably in bed already so I dared not call her. Didn’t nuns to bed early the night before church? Wasn’t that like a requirement of theirs, like children on a school night?

 

Spending time with God wouldn’t be the end of the world. I prayed regularly and even though I didn’t get into my top choice school, Vanderbilt, I did manage to accomplish all my goals. Besides, Jo got into Vanderbilt, most likely through bribes and trickery, so how selective could they actually be. She was a smart girl but she put forth very little effort in high school. While I was class Valedictorian, she was a solid B student easy. Neither of us were popular but she spent most of her time playing computer games with her friends and participating in various clubs. Yearbook, chess club, young entrepreneurs, anything to keep her from doing actual homework.

 

I decided to go in the morning. It would do me some good. I HAD spent a night drinking and fornicating. A morning with Jesus would wash that night away. A little prayer, a bit of penitence and I was good as new.

 

I shot Tanner a text letting him know that we were done for the night and that I would be going to church the next day. He texted me back the word Roger which I assumed was military man talk for okay. Why he didn’t just say ok was beyond me but I let it go. If he wanted to play the role of stiff robot I’d oblige him. I took a quick shower and went to sleep.

                

I woke up on Sunday morning feeling refreshed. I had a quick wave of doubt about church but shook it off. Mass was only an hour. One hour for God and the rest of the twenty three hours in the day were mine to do with what I pleased.

 

I called room service to bring me a coffee and pulled out my safest dress and shoes. Conservative, dark and not at all flashy and attention grabbing. Check.

 

While laying out my clothes I noticed the message light on my cell was blinking. The message was from Jo, left during the middle of the night which I assumed was sometime during the day in France. The message was accompanied by a photo. Jo and Luke looking very touristy on some bridge. They were both doing their best to seem normal but there were a throng of people in the background staring. Jo to her credit was in her chair.

 

‘Having a blast sis. This city is so beautiful, I love it here.’

 

Short and sweet. I was glad she was having a good time but a wave of familiar feelings came over me. Jealousy. I had always dreamed of going to Paris. Didn’t every girl? It was on my bucket list. Paris, a nice house in a gated community, a loving husband, two kids, one boy one girl. The basics. I wasn’t asking for much. I was a southern girl. I wasn’t totally unreasonable.

 

Before I had a chance to stew in my self pity somebody knocked on the door. The coffee I assumed. When I opened the door Tanner was standing there, behind him was Nicole the bellman. She was holding the coffee along with a morning newspaper peering over Tanner‘s large shoulder.

 

Tanner gave me an annoyed look but didn’t speak. I knew what it meant without having to be told. What’s the use of having a bodyguard if I’m not going to use him.

 

To throw him a bone I looked over at Nicole and solved the problem. “Nicole in the future when I order room service could you make sure it’s delivered to Tanner’s room please.”

 

He smiled just a bit and I realized I’d given him what he wanted. Men weren’t complicated creatures. They wanted the comfort of being in control, even if it was an illusion. Tanner was no different. He just wanted to be kept in the loop.

 

“Yes ma’am.” Nicole said a bit too formal.

 

“Ma’am? You aren’t getting soft on me are you Nicole?” Tanner stepped aside and let Nicole step into the room. She was a carbon copy of how she looked yesterday. Everything was exactly the same except for her demeanor. She seemed more stiff, formal.

 

“No, my boss is being kind of a tool. He’s on this whole professionalism kick. Apparently somebody complained about my cross, so he drags me into his office and tells me that I need to be a bit more aware of my surroundings.” She snorted. “It didn’t even make any sense. I asked him for specifics and the coward was too afraid to say anything remotely critical.”

 

I noticed she didn’t bother hiding her cross. It was still proudly displayed around her neck. Something wasn’t adding up. “I don’t get it. Why would he be afraid to tell you to straighten up?”

 

Nicole didn’t offer it up but Tanner did. “Ms. Ambrosi here is an heiress. Her father owns the Presidential Hotel brand and a half a dozen others. It gives her a certain amount of latitude around here.” Tanner spoke the words with his usual calm professionalism but as far as Nicole was concerned they may as well have been fingers on a chalk board.

 

Of course she was an heiress. She’d said yesterday that her father wanted her to learn the value of hard work and money. Meaning she was unlikely to learn it anywhere else. And that would totally explain why she was able to get away with wearing her goth getup. It wasn’t over the top like some of the kids I’d seen since coming to New York but it was extremely inappropriate in a place like this.

 

To her credit she changed the subject. Jutting out the coffee and newspaper in my direction.

 

“I have your coffee. And something else you probably want to see. You hit the gossip column this morning,” she said without looking at me. Her eyes were filled with fire but they were focused on Tanner who seemed to be smiling at her playfully.

   

She was extending the coffee and the paper but I reached for the paper practically snatching it out of her hand. The paper was already pre-folded to the gossip column and when my eyes scanned it I realized right away that my reputation for being a b***h had struck again.

 

Whispered…Dr. Josephine O’Bannon is said to be fuming that French Supermodel Gabriella made a pass at her new brother in law. The pass itself doesn’t seem to be a big deal but according to sources close to both the Supermodel and the doc, Gabriella apparently made disparaging remarks about our favorite ex-cop’s inability to bear children in an attempt to lure our favorite hunky billionaire away. Gabriella’s camp is mum at the moment but sources close to the model are saying Gabriella herself has never made a point of keeping her attraction to the young billionaire a secret. The Lucas family has no comment as per their usual stance on not commenting on such tawdry affairs but apparently they are all deeply offended by the whole thing. As am I.

 

Spotted… Dr. Josephine O’Bannon with hunky lawyer Clint Baker at Regio last night. Sources say the pair hit it off at the Lucas nuptials and barely waited twenty four hours before they saw one another again. The two appeared to be pretty cozy with plenty of playful whispers back and forth. Although the night ended with separate cab rides in opposite directions I hear love may be in the air. Remember you heard it here first.

 

I wanted to be sick. That backstabbing Jill pinned it all on me. Jo was going to kill me. And not only that but I looked like a maniac. Again. People were going to think I was horrible.

 

And the thing with Clint. Love? Hardly. Although that wasn’t technically terrible, it never hurt to be linked to a handsome, rich, successful guy. Even if it wasn’t true. Still, love? Where did they get that part of the story from? We barely knew one another. Well that wasn’t particularly true either, we knew one another intimately. Yet sex was hardly love. And we weren’t technically dating. What is it the kids say these days, sex isn’t dating?

 

“This is awful.” Was all I could think to say.

 

“Yeah, what a skank. Who says something like that? Especially about YOUR sister. That French chick totally needs her a*s kicked.” Nicole was saying. She seemed genuinely offended by the whole thing. Her face was even scrunched up as if she’d smelled something bad.

  

“She’s not going to admit to it. She‘ll deny it. Anybody with half a brain would deny it.” I said softly. “It’ll look like we’re just picking on her.”

 

Nicole scoffed. “Are you kidding? That chicks a total b***h. People have been saying it for years but she‘s been getting a pass because she’s only done it with people who don‘t matter. Waiters, maids, limo drivers. This however is the sort of thing that offends everybody. I was on the elevator with these two old ladies earlier today and even they were talking about it. They were totally offended by it. I mean a woman gets shot in the stomach and loses her baby because she did the whole world a favor, and now she can never have babies of her own. And the first time she lets her guard down some skank comes and tells her guy that SHE can have his babies instead and tries to steal him away. Totally skanky.”

 

Tanner made a sound of disgust with his mouth. Even my hard as nails security guy was disgusted. It was true, it was a horrible thing to do but there was no proof. Simply saying it happened doesn’t make it so. Gabriella would probably deny it, she’d probably even sue.

 

I gotta warn Jo. “I better give my sister a call and warn her. She‘s in France right now where that Gabriella‘s from.

 

They‘ll probably throw French Toast at her, or pelt her with French Fries.”

 

I walked over to my purse and fished out a ten dollar bill for Nicole and slipped it to her. “Thanks Nicole, you here all day?”

 

“Most of the day.”

 

“I gotta call my sister and get ready for church but I’ll see you around later.”

 

Nicole nodded and like a pro made herself scarce. Tanner pulled the door closed behind her leaving me alone in my room to deal with my crisis in private.

             

Jo didn’t answer her phone. I’d called three times and finally left a message on her voice mail. A long rambling message that spelled the whole sordid mess out for her, topped off with a suggestion that she just say no comment to any questions about the whole thing.

 

Tanner and I were off to church after that. He was wearing a nice black suit that almost made him look like a banker instead of a badass. Almost. When we got into the SUV I spotted an ankle rig that seemed to sheathe some sort of knife and when he unbuttoned his jacket before climbing into the car I saw he was carrying a gun. On the ride over I decided to attempt small talk.

 

“So how did you sleep?”

 

He shrugged. “Fine. I’m used to sleeping in strange places.”

 

I wouldn’t have classified the Presidential as strange. We weren’t exactly in Bosnia sleeping in tents. We were in the biggest city in America and we were staying in a luxury hotel. We weren’t in a suite or anything but it wasn’t quite the Holliday Inn.

 

“If I go to dinner or something is it against the rules to order you food?” It seemed an odd question but it had been bugging me all night that I ate some fancy meal last night and it never occurred to me to make sure he ate.

 

“It’s not necessary ma’am. It’s my job to protect you. So I eat when you’re secure. I have a routine that I follow, so don’t even consider me into your equations. I’ll adapt, whatever you have to do it’s my job to adapt to.” He nodded with confidence. “You’re currently what we call a low risk protection asset anyway. Meaning it’s my job to look out for you but I don’t expect much trouble.”

 

That was good to know. The last thing I wanted was trouble. We rode the rest of the way in silence and by the time we got to the church I was anxious to get mass over with. I saw the Priest standing out front, greeting people as they walked into the door and considered how long it had been since I‘d been to church. Years. Once I’d made my mind up about being a woman of science I let my religious beliefs fall by the wayside. In college I couldn’t reconcile the fact that science was the world we lived in, while religion was where most of our hearts were. It wasn’t the sort of thing you could explain. It just was.

 

The minister didn’t seem to know my struggles. When I walked up to him he shook my hand and welcomed me with genuine happiness and hospitality then turned his attention to Tanner who seemed to soften his hard as nails glare for the priest.

 

We disappeared inside and found seats in the back. After all my years of heathen living I didn’t want to pull an Icarus and fly too close to the sun. It had been years since I’d been to church but even here, in a city that wasn’t my own, in a congregation that wasn’t familiar, it still felt like coming home again.

 

After mass ended I felt more at peace than I had in a while. My life had been moving so fast these past few months that I had lost track of the things that were truly important to me. I wanted to slow things down, I needed to slow things down. On my way out the door I felt a hand wrap around my wrist and pull me backwards. Sister Margaret.

 

I had seen the line of sisters sitting upfront in the first pew but I had only seen them from the back. I couldn’t tell which one sister Margaret was and wasn’t confident she knew I’d accepted her invitation and shown up. When she pulled me back towards her she was smiling, almost proud.

 

“Look who made it.” She said with a smile that was infectious.

  

“I appreciated the invitation.” I felt great about it now that I’d actually gone and given my soul some peace. It seemed like a great idea, long overdue.

 

“Well we do it every week. You’re always welcome to come back.”

 

I nodded with confidence. “I’ll be here.”

 

Sister Margaret looped her arm in mine and started us towards the door. “I heard through the grapevine you needed a new wardrobe.”

 

“You heard right.” I almost asked her if Jesus had told her but was afraid making jokes about Jesus in a church would be blasphemous.

 

“I’m free tomorrow afternoon, we should go shopping. I know all the great stores and everybody cuts me deals hoping to score points with the big guy,” she teased. It was hilarious that she’d use her status as a sister as a way to get discounted designer clothes. I wonder if Jesus would approve.

 

“Are you sure that’s not abuse of power or something?” I asked with a smile.

 

“Live long and prosper.” She said pulling my arm tighter.

 

“Is that from the bible, did Jesus say that?,” I asked. I was somehow familiar with the quote but not quite sure of it’s origin.

 

She shook her head. “Spock. Star Trek.”

 

I stifled a laugh. “Star Trek? Shouldn’t you be quoting the bible if you want to convince me?”

 

She shrugged. “Jeremiah 29:11. I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” She looked at me with confidence. “How’s that?”

 

I nodded. She may have been a goofball but she clearly knew her stuff. Yet for all I knew she’d made it up so I didn’t argue.

 

“I’m sold. If Jesus says it’s okay to shop then we totally should.”

 

She nodded and gave me another pull. “Jesus just wants us to be happy. Shopping will make us happy. Don’t worry Josephine, it’ll be painless. I promise you you’ll have fun. Besides money bags is paying for it. One good thing about your sister being with Doyle is he’s got more money than everybody alive. Well almost everybody. And he has no problem letting you spend it. He loves your sister and your sister loves you so he loves you. A few dollars here or there is no big deal to him.”

 

For some reason I felt like a gold digger. “None of this is my idea. I wanted to go home to Texas and get a job.”

 

Sister Margaret laughed at me as if I were on stage at Second City. “Yeah, my dad is not going to let that happen. Nobody wins a fight with him.”

 

Yeah I could see that was the way things went in this family. The VP got what he wanted. It seemed like all he had to do was suggest something and everyone bent over backwards to make him happy. I hadn’t even put up a real fight. I folded like a lawn chair. True I was being asked to join a life of privilege and luxury but that seemed to be secondary. It was like I was being asked only out of politeness. If they could have gotten away with simply telling me what to do I believe they would have.

 

“You seem to have won at least one fight with him. You don’t have Secret Service protection.”

 

She shrugged. “That won’t last long. I’ve gotten orders from Vatican City telling me to take all necessary precautions. Apparently getting kidnapped by Terrorists wouldn’t be good for the future President of the United States or the Catholic Church. Go figure.”

 

I wanted to laugh but it wasn’t a laughing matter. “They made me get one too.”

 

She looked over at Tanner who was spying the room protectively. “I can see. Is he any good?”

 

I nodded. “I don’t know much about bodyguards but he seems competent to me.”

 

“Tomorrow. I’ll call you, we’ll shop, have lunch. Chit chat. It should be fun.”

 

“Afternoon sometime. I have some calls to make in the morning. About a job.”

 

“Sounds like a plan,” was all she said as we stepped out the door and into the late morning air. The wind was chilly on my face, early signs of winter. I breathed deeply and relaxed my nerves. I’d started the day off well and now I needed to calm down. I was hungry.