Wanted (Most Wanted #1)(31)
Author: J. Kenner

“Where’s Daddy?” I asked in an effort to change the subject.

“We ran into the president of Trycor Transportation.” She nodded across the room, where my father stood by a table chatting amiably with a silver-haired man and two young girls who were obviously his daughters. “He’ll be back in a minute. In the meantime, you and I can order.”

Our table was far enough from the fountain and the harpist that we could easily hear each other. We ordered high tea and Earl Grey for all three of us, and then Mom dived into all the mundane life stuff. I settled back, comfortable with the warm familiarity of the conversation.

“How is Flynn?” she asked. I gave her a run down of his flight and bartending schedule, and she made maternal tsk-tsk noises. “Tell him he needs to seriously consider going to college. He’s too bright to simply ignore his education.”

I bit back a smile, remembering why Flynn had chosen not to join me at The Drake. “I’ll tell him.”

“And why don’t you and I take a trip home soon? We’ll take some time, get a bit of relaxing in. Maybe even drive up the coast and go shopping.”

“La Jolla?” I asked, knowing that had to be what my mom meant by home. Though the Washington lifestyle had fit both she and my father like a glove, they hadn’t moved there full-time. “I’d love it,” I said truthfully. “But I’ve been away from work for more than a week now, and things are going to be crazy when I get back.”

“I’m sure we can work it out,” she said dismissively, as if whatever issues I might have at work weren’t even worth bothering about. She lifted an arm, her smile bright. “Here comes Daddy.”

I stood up and folded myself in my father’s arms, and the comfort I found there was enough to make me forget my mother’s weirdness.

To my parents’ credit, we didn’t talk about Uncle Jahn or the funeral or the will. They seemed to innately know that I needed space. That I just needed them, and so we talked about Mom’s fund-raising and the various charitable organizations she worked with and the most recent legislation that Daddy was pushing and how well his new aide was working out.

As we’d been talking, the waitstaff had come with our tea and food, and now I took the final scone, slathering its sugared top with clotted cream before taking a not-very-ladylike bite.

As I did, my mom and dad exchanged a glance.

“What?” I said, afraid I was about to get called out for bad manners. “Did I do something?”

“I mentioned my new aide,” my father said. “That reminded me of something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Reminded,” I repeated. I wiped my mouth and took a sip of tea, then sat back and studied my father. He was not the kind of man who needed to be reminded of anything, and I realized with sudden insight that whatever he was about to say was the reason they’d come to Chicago in the first place. “Okay. I’m listening.”

“Do you remember Congressman Winslow?”

I shook my head slowly. “No.”

For the briefest of moments, my dad looked irritated. “Well, he remembers you. He’s serving his second term in Washington now, but before that he was in Sacramento with me. And every year he was one of the faculty at the legislative summer camp that your sister used to go to. He was even her mentor when she did the youth ambassador program.”

“Oh.” I nodded as if this all made sense. But from what I could tell so far, it was my sister the congressman remembered, and not me. “So what is the congressman up to?”

“Quite a bit, actually. He’s definitely a man to watch on the Hill. But most recently, he’s hired himself a new legislative aide.” He grinned at me, but I just shook my head, confused. “You, Angie.” He leaned over and captured me in a hug, then released me so that my mom could repeat the process from my other side.

“Wait. Me?” I asked, when the hugs and kisses were over. “How can I be his aide? I’ve never even met him.”

“It took some maneuvering,” my dad said. “But he’s also a Northwestern grad, and knows just how competitive your poli sci degree is. And I don’t think it hurt that you beat out his GPA by a hair, too.”

“It’s exactly the kind of position you want, sweetie,” my mom said.

I nodded automatically. The truth was, I didn’t have a clue what I really wanted; I’d never let myself think too long about it. But they were right. It was what I’d worked toward. It was what I’d gone to college for.

Most important, it was what Gracie had wanted.

“It’s the perfect position for a young woman starting out,” my father said.

“It sounds great, Daddy. But I’m not sure if it would be right to leave Chicago so soon after Uncle Jahn’s death.”

His face tightened. “You do what you have to do, of course. But you should know that there’s a lot of opportunity for growth. A congressman who’s not only on the public’s radar, but has the ear of the White House, too. I promise you, baby, your climb will track his—and your mother and I will be beside you all the way.”

My father reached out and took my hand and if I didn’t know him better I would have sworn his eyes got misty. “I love you, Angelina,” he said, and my heart twisted both because I knew it was true, and also because of what he had left unspoken: You’re all I have left.

I turned down my father’s offer to have his hired driver give me a lift home. I’d told him I wanted to do some shopping, but mostly I just wanted to be alone. To walk and to think.

I’d wanted to tell my dad that I wasn’t ready to move to Washington. That even though public relations wasn’t my thing, there were parts of my current job I found fascinating. And wasn’t that what being in your twenties was about? Exploring all those options?

But then I thought of Gracie, who’d probably known in utero that politics was her calling. I could still remember the long conversations she’d have with Daddy at the kitchen table, while I’d nod seriously and pretend to understand, trying desperately to think of one clever thing that would make my dad look at me with the same light that he’d shined on Grace.

Then she’d died, and it had broken my heart to think that the light inside my dad would die with her. Except it hadn’t faded, because I’d saved it. Maybe I couldn’t save Gracie. Maybe I couldn’t bring her back. But I’d signed up for student council. I’d joined the debate team. I’d completed a summer internship in Sacramento. I’d gone to Northwestern to major in political science.