A Political Affair (26 page)

Anne’s jab at Mark had a collateral effect besides shutting him up—Mary Beth had someone new to be angry with. She scowled at Mark, obviously furious her son had messed around with the pastor’s daughter in their barn.

Elton quieted the room as he asked a critical question for everyone involved. “Who knows about you two?”

“My immediate family—my mother, sisters, and my brother-in-law. They’re very supportive of Anne and me, especially my mother. Anne’s become a friend of the family, and most of the time we spend together my family is around.”

Anne examined her parents’ reactions. Her mother nodded, as if she found some comfort in the respectability his family’s presence brought to their relationship. Her father’s expression remained impassive.
 

“Greg knows, too,” Stephen said with a nod.

“So that’s why he dropped you off,” her mother said. “I wondered why.”
 

“Greg’s been very helpful. My mother thought it would be wise to tell him.” Stephen eased into the sofa and squeezed Anne’s hand. “Also, my family’s closest friend—who is like a father to me. He knows of us.”

“Who’s that?” asked Elton, as he tapped the arm of his recliner.

“Senator Grayson York . . . and his wife, Laura. A few weeks ago, they hosted my mother, Anne and me for dinner. Grayson was my father’s best friend. He’s my sister’s godfather and my closest colleague in the senate. He would never hurt us.”

“I’ve always liked him,” Mary Beth admitted with a small smile. She glanced at Elton and shrugged. “He’s funny . . . and a moderate.”

“Yes, Grayson is a wonderful person. He likes Anne a lot.” Stephen looked at Elton and said in a more sober voice, “Our family attorney is also aware of the situation.”

Elton’s expression instantly changed. His eyes skewered Stephen, and Stephen answered his glare at once. “I think you’d understand it was wise to inform him. You shouldn’t take it as a sign of anything else. In order to protect everyone involved, including Anne, it’s better he not be caught flat-footed.”

Elton took a deep breath. “At least you understand this is bound to come out. Politicians in your situation usually have so much hubris they delude themselves into thinking nothing will happen.”

“Dad, haven’t you been listening?” Anne said, irritated by her father’s attitude. “This isn’t like that.”

Stephen gave Anne a brief look, as if to warn her against fighting with her family. He turned to Elton. “Obviously, it’s better for everyone involved, including you and your family, if our relationship is kept quiet until after my reelection. That’s the desired outcome, but we’re taking precautions in case something does become public.”

Quiet for a moment, Elton crossed his arms over his chest and reclined in his chair. “So your story is Anne became a friend of yours and your family. You two became involved, but you kept things private for obvious reasons.”

“It’s not a story,” Anne muttered. “Those are facts.”

“They
are
facts,” Stephen agreed. “And because it’s my personal life, I haven’t commented on it.”

“We both know the personal is political here. You’ll have to comment.” Elton’s tone changed from conversation to interrogation. “What will you do when it comes out?”

Without flinching, Stephen met Elton’s stare and spoke politician to politician. “I’ll address it publicly with my family and—hopefully—Anne at my side, though that’s her choice. I’m also certain Grayson would make a statement of support to corroborate the truth of things.”

Anne imagined the scene, which in the past she’d envisioned with dread. Despite the terror of it, she knew she’d want to be there with him. She nodded. “I’d be there.”

“And you’ll be the butt of a million jokes,” Mark said, this time with concern rather than sarcasm. “Your career will be over. Think about it.”
 

“I told you I’m willing to take the risk.” She shook her head. “The negative publicity won’t last forever. It never does.”

While he was the least political person in the family, Mark was the first to address what had been left unsaid. His voice saddened in disappointment with his sister. “And it could hurt Dad.”

“Dad, you know I’m sorry, don’t you?” asked Anne with some sadness.

Elton glanced at his wife and was silent for a moment. He sighed, in deep thought. “Politically, this is more of an annoyance than any harm to my career. I’ve been around too long. That said, it’s going to be a problem for some of my relationships within the party.” He looked at the heavens as he thought of how it might play out. “I’m going to hear about it.”

“What will you say? What will you do?” asked Anne, scared to hear the answer.

“I’ll say I love and support my daughter, but she’s an adult who makes her own decisions. This was a decision I don’t agree with.” He looked at his wife to confirm his statement. “That will be the only thing said publicly by the family.”

“I understand, and I appreciate it,” Stephen said with sincerity. “Given the situation, I wouldn’t expect any more from you.”

“And none of you will tell anyone, regardless of what happens, right?” Anne looked at each member of her family to confirm their answers.

“That’s right,” Mary Beth said with a grim smile. “It’s best for everyone involved.”
 

As Mary Beth finished speaking, the phone at Mark’s side rang. He picked it up and curtly answered, “Norwood residence.” Seconds later, he sputtered in surprise, “Oh. Hello . . . Mrs. McEvoy. No, this isn’t Elton. I’m Mark Norwood, Anne’s brother.”
 

Elton and Mary Beth looked at one another in astonishment. Anne smiled at Stephen and whispered close to his ear. “Did you know she’d call?”

“Not at all. I only told her this morning I’d be here today.” He smiled. “She’s much smarter than I am.”

Another moment passed and Mark said into the phone, “It would be nice to meet you, also.” He glanced up at Mary Beth and pointed to the receiver. “Let me get my mother for you.”

Mary Beth took the call and answered in a chipper voice, while still acknowledging the social stature of the woman on the other line. “Hello, Mrs. McEvoy. Thank you so much for calling. I truly appreciate it.” She listened for a moment and said, “Well, thank you, Lillian. You’re really very kind to call.” As the two women spoke, Mary Beth left in search of a private room.

Elton’s expression and demeanor finally changed. The concern and anger vanished for a moment as he chuckled at his wife talking with Lillian McEvoy. He smiled at his daughter. “Oh, Anne . . .”

It was midmorning the following day when Anne joined the extended McEvoy family at their mansion off Cheeseman Park in Denver. The visit was initially social, but when Greg arrived it turned into a campaign meeting.
 

The entire family sat around the giant dining room table. Lillian had made tea and coffee for everyone, with shortbread cookies to tide them over until lunch. She called the meeting to order. “Well, the news is out now. Dan Langford has raised over a million dollars in the last quarter. That’s a significant amount of money for someone like him. Before things get hairy, I want a family consensus on financing the campaign with family money. Personally, I’d rather not, but I suggest we do if it becomes necessary. Patty agrees.”

Patty was firm. “I think it’s best, though we need to handle it carefully.”

“We don’t want to appear to be ‘buying’ a Senate seat to keep it in the McEvoy name,” remarked Megan. “Langford would have a field day with that in the media.”

“And I don’t want it to appear that we don’t have supporters for the campaign, because we do. At the moment, fundraising isn’t an issue,” said Stephen.

“But these days people expect wealthy candidates to contribute to their own campaign,” Anne said with a shrug. She didn’t understand why they were worried about appearances. Everyone knew the McEvoys were rich.

“It’s the amount that’s the issue . . . and timing.” Greg shook his head. “I would wait until the last possible minute and contribute the minimum amount.”

Patty concluded the discussion. “Mom, I think we’re all in agreement.”

“If it’s settled, then let’s talk about how we message this—” Megan’s ringing phone stopped her train of thought, and after she read the caller’s name, she frowned. “
Washington Post
. I need to take it. I’ll be right back. They’re probably already looking for a quote on Dan’s numbers.”

Megan was out of the room for only a few minutes. When she returned, her face was grim. “Walter Smith has set up an independent expenditure campaign to defeat Stephen. What do you want to say?”

Stephen collected his thoughts. Walter Smith was public enemy number one for Democrats. Any comment from Stephen about Walter needed to be pitch perfect.

Patty jumped in. “No. I’m the campaign manager. This is entirely political. I’m the appropriate messenger here, not Stephen.”

Stephen nodded. “She’s right.” He chuckled in admiration of his fearless sister as she scribbled on a notepad. “Let’s see what Patty has to say.”

Handing a piece of paper to Megan, Patty said, “Here. Read it to him.”

Megan took the call off hold and said, “Stu. Hi. This is from Patty McEvoy, Senator McEvoy’s campaign manager.”
 

She paused a moment before relaying Patty’s statement. “Quote: ‘Bring it on. The McEvoy family has never been afraid of a fight.’ End quote.” Waiting a few seconds, she asked, “You got that?”

Late in January, Stephen turned off the flashlight to darken the tent as Anne laughed inside their joined sleeping bags. She stripped down to her underwear and stowed her clothes at the bottom of the bag to keep them warm during the cold West Virginia night.
 

“Okay,” she said, snuggling down into the bag. “You promised to keep me warm if I went on this ridiculous expedition with you. We could be comfortably in your bed back at the cabin.”

“Just give me a second, and I’ll warm you up. I want to get out of my clothes, too.”

The pitch black rendered Anne blind, but she heard him lower the zipper so he could join her. As he stashed his clothes at the bag’s foot, she reached out and touched his long underwear.
 

“One good thing about the middle of nowhere is we don’t have to worry about being too loud.” She giggled.

“If you keep teasing me, I promise I’ll be very, very loud.” He kissed his way behind her ear, leaving a trail of tickles she felt everywhere.
 

“Really?” She smiled into the darkness and slipped her hand into his fly.
 

The next morning at dawn, Worthington Clements and his dog were out for their morning constitutional, snowshoeing around his property. The snow did little to muffle the sounds of enthusiastic sex coming from the red tent a hundred yards away. Initially, the elderly gentleman rolled his eyes in disgust, but he caught himself quickly. He thought of his younger days and smiled. “Aw, hell. You’re just jealous,” he mumbled aloud.
 

When he came closer, his booming accent, born of the hollows of West Virginia, overrode the laughter coming from the tent. “I can hear you’re enjoying yourselves in there, but I’d like to inform you that unless your name is Clements or McEvoy, you’re trespassing. Now, I know it’s not Clements because I have no living relatives and no heirs. And I seriously doubt you’re a McEvoy.”