LifeoftheParty (9 page)

“Okay. Jesus,” he said, turning the car into Strawbridge
Lake Park. Before they came to a stop she had jumped out, trotting up the dirt
path to the lake. Doug shut the car off and went after her.

He found her on a bench facing the water, her head in her
hands. He said nothing as he sat at the opposite end, his hands in his pockets.
The trees on the other side of the lake were lit with fall colors, the sunny
day reflecting the reds, oranges and golds in the mirror-still water. If it had
been a normal day in a somewhat normal world, Doug would have remarked on the
swans paddling toward them, the leaves falling slowly around them, the trout
that just leapt from the water. But he kept quiet. Because his girl was hurting
and he didn’t know how to fix it.

His girl.

“Come here,” he said, pulling her to him.

“Oh Doug,” she said, snaking her arms under his jacket,
burying her face into his tie. “Please don’t hate me, please don’t. I couldn’t
stand it if you did.”

He kissed the top of her head. “I don’t hate you.”
I love
you.

He blinked. He loved her. He always had. It had never gone
away. Not for one second.

“I don’t hate you,” he repeated, pulling her closer. “And I
won’t let anyone hurt you.” That much was certain. He’d take a bullet again
before he’d ever let it happen.

She snuffled, squeezing him. “Well, that’s good.” She tugged
at his holster. “Because I really don’t know how to shoot one of these things.
I tried once and I damn near killed myself.”

“If there’s any shooting to be done, promise you’ll leave it
to me.”

“Of course. That’s a promise I don’t even have to make.”

He tipped her chin toward him. “That’s one.”

Gina held his gaze for a moment then pulled away. She leaned
forward, folding her arms atop her knees, her gaze fixed on the lake.

“I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

He said nothing.

She turned, meeting his gaze over her shoulder. “As you may
have expected.” Then she stood, walking to a tree a few feet away. She braced
herself against it, her back to Doug.

“I’ve never told you much about myself, have I? Even from
before.” She reached to pluck a leaf from overhead. “Maybe because we had so
little real time together, with me always off on a plane to the next party
strategy session, the next rally, the hottest candidate. And then when I would
see you…” Her shoulders rose, slumped. “My God, Doug, when I’d get back and
you’d kiss me…” She shivered, tossing the leaf in the air. “It was all I could
do to breathe, let alone form a coherent thought. You damn near worked me to a
nub, inside and out.”

He was glad her back was turned. Because he wasn’t sure how
she’d take him smiling. It was true, back in those heady first days. He’d never
met a woman like her before, never one so voluptuous, so adventurous, so
intelligent, so brave. From the first moment he saw her he had to have her,
watching her strut around that courtroom as though she owned it, seeing her
eyes flash when she called an objection, marveling at her canniness in cross-examination,
silently cheering her on even as he testified for the prosecution. Truth be
told, she’d mesmerized him, like a shiny penny on a string. She was flash and
purpose all rolled into one, an intoxicating mixture of brains and steel and
body, and once he’d had her he couldn’t get enough, his desire increasing
exponentially every time he sank himself into her.

“I think I know the feeling,” he said.

She turned, coming back to the bench. “Then you know what I
mean,” she said, sitting just far enough away so their bodies didn’t touch,
even though he could still feel her heat. “But I want you to know me now, Doug.
I think you should. I think it would help you understand me.” She looked away.
“That is, if you want to.”

He reached and squeezed her hand. “Of course I do.”

“Good. Because I really want you to know.” She closed her
hand over his, taking a deep breath before she started. “My parents divorced
when I was really young, as they were really young themselves. Not even twenty,
I think. Neither of them wanted me, so my grandmother kept me until I was nine.
But then she remarried, and her new husband wanted to move to Florida to this
place that didn’t allow kids, so my Aunt Erika on my dad’s side took me. She
was single, a court reporter, and real strict. She didn’t want me to be alone
in the house after school, so she would have me walk to the courthouse and sit
in the back of whatever courtroom she had a trial in. At first I was mad
because I couldn’t play or watch TV like the other kids, but then I got to
listening and the more I did, the more fascinated I got.

“After a while, I got to know all the prosecutors and a lot
of the defense attorneys, the rules of court procedure, the judges, the
dockets. The sheriff’s deputies were all my friends. I was the pet of the
courthouse and loved every minute of it, and by the time I was twelve I knew I
wanted to be a lawyer. And with Riverboro being the county seat, there were
always politicians around, so when I graduated high school, I was sailing into
college on party scholarships, my freshman summer spent as a congressional page
in Washington, courtesy of the third district.”

“So that’s how it went,” Doug said. “And I had to prostitute
myself with the Army before I could get the money to go to college.”

“You were in the Army?”

“Stateside, Germany then Kuwait. An MP.”

She threw out her hands. “See? We never knew this about each
other.” She looked back to the lake. “But I expect there’s a lot we don’t
know.”

His hand went to her hair, smoothing it over her shoulder.
“I’m an open book. All you have to do is ask.”

“Oh Doug, I’m not trying to hide things from you, I’m really
not. But no matter how much I try, I can’t stop competing with myself, as crazy
as that sounds. Sometimes I think I’m more competitive than a man could ever
be. And I can’t stop. I just have to keep going and going until it’s just
perfect, because if I make it perfect then maybe I’ll be too. And then maybe
when I am, I’ll be able to stay in one place.”

“And with one person.”

She looked at him. “Yes. And then no one will ever leave me
again.”

He squeezed her shoulder. “Maybe that could even be me.”

She sighed. “Oh Doug.”

He pulled her to him. “Would you like that? No—don’t answer.
I don’t want to know.” He tilted her head back. “Not now.”

He kissed her like he had never kissed her before. It was a
kiss born of sympathy and friendship and the truest kind of love, and a weird
kind of kinship he had no way to explain. And it was mutual, it seemed, as she
kissed him the same way back, her lips lightly brushing over his before she
broke it.

“I don’t want to be scared, but I can’t help it,” she
whispered.

He leaned his forehead against hers. “You don’t have to be.
I’m here and I’ll take care of you.”

“No matter what happens? No matter what you find out?”

She was testing him. And still hiding something, he was
certain. But he didn’t care. He had to have her and he would. For keeps.
No
matter what.

“Yes,” he said, more roughly than he intended. “No matter
what.”

She closed her eyes. “Good.”

When she said that, everything chaste flew out the window.
He pressed her back to the bench, his lips seizing hers, his tongue lunging to
meet her own. She groaned and he felt himself hardening.

“Doug…Doug…” she moaned, her arms flying about his neck, her
hips rising to grind against his. He slipped his hand into her jacket and found
her breast, squeezing until she jolted against him. Then her eyes flew open.

“Good God, Doug,” she whispered, frantic. “We’re outside in
a public park!”

“I know.” He looked around. But he didn’t see anyone. Except
a man walking a dog way up near the road and… “Let’s go back to the hotel.”

“Doug, we’re outside.
In a public park.
” She smiled,
slow and saucy.

There was no missing her meaning. He hardened even more.
“Come on,” he said, pulling her to her feet.

He looked around. There was a utility shed about twenty feet
away, a clump of bushes behind it. When he turned to Gina she nodded. This was
what he loved about her. They headed for it.

It was an old shed of cedar shingles, but she didn’t seem to
care. She leaned against it and planted her three-inch heels into the mulchy
ground, looking to Doug with anticipation. He didn’t intend to disappoint. He
fell to his haunches then rucked her skirt up her thighs, sliding her panties
down until she stepped out of them. He stuffed them into his pocket, then
turned back to her pussy as she grabbed his shoulders for support.

“We don’t have much time,” she said, glancing left and
right.

“Sorry, doll. Can’t always be your sixty-minute man, you
know.” Then he grabbed ahold of her thighs and pulled her to his mouth.

“Damn!” she yelped, Doug devouring every inch of her pussy.
She was hot and sweet and just like he liked her, his tongue tracing every
crevice, every fold, his finger sliding into her vagina. When it did, she came
like thunder rumbling, her pussy trembling against his mouth, her moans low and
earthy. He rose, kissing her quickly.

“Turn around,” he said, unzipping. “Spread your legs and
brace against the shed.”

“Aye, aye, captain.”

He slid her skirt over her ass, driving his cock into her
pussy. “Jesus,” he breathed, her muscles clenching around his shaft. His eyes
fell to half-mast. It always had amazed him how good it felt to fuck her, how
she could take nearly all of him, how he couldn’t get enough of her. When he
started to move in and out, slowly at first, she groaned, her hips twitching as
she fell into his rhythm. She felt so good, so much better than she’d ever felt
before, he sped up, grabbing hold of her hips, angling himself deeper. So deep
he imagined he could touch her heart.

He reached out, bracing against the shed.

“Doug,” she moaned, and he lost it.

Could a person really take this much pressure? This much
pummeling? He didn’t know and damn it, he didn’t care. All he knew was Gina was
coming again and he was about to, his mind tumbling toward that senseless,
crazy place he lived to visit, never so much as with Gina. But he had just
enough sense left to pull out, grab her panties and come into them, his semen
soaking the silk until his palm went damp. Then he tossed them, Gina catching
their flight into the bushes.

She turned just as he pulled her skirt down. “Doug! What
the—?”

“Someone’s coming, Nature Girl,” he said, zipping. “We
better get out of here.”

“You owe me some underwear,” she said, slipping slightly
when he tugged her.

* * * * *

HOLLY HOUSE INN—RIVERBORO

1:27 P.M.

“We can order room service,” Doug said, nuzzling her neck as
they exited the elevator.

“But I have to get to the office, if only for a little
while.” Gina tilted her head to catch a quick kiss. “I probably have a million
messages by now.”

He slung his arm over her shoulder as they walked up the
hall. “Yeah, well, you got to eat—” Suddenly he froze, pushing her behind him.

Gina followed his line of vision. Her door was opened, barely
a quarter of an inch.

“Get back,” Doug whispered, slowly drawing out his Glock.

HOLLY HOUSE INN—RIVERBORO

FRIDAY 1 NOVEMBER

1:28 P.M.

Gina gripped his arm. “But Doug! What if—”

“I said
get back
,” he hissed, shrugging her off. She
finally relented, slinking back a few steps, her heart in her throat.
Oh God
,
she thought,
if anything happens to him…

He was nearly at the door of her suite, his hand already
reaching for it. Gina pressed herself to the wall parallel, her hands flat against
the wall, almost as if she were taking the building’s pulse. If it could talk,
would it be as terrified as she was? With the man she loved walking dead into
uncertainty? When he reached the door, he stopped and, cocking his pistol,
pushed the door open.

Gina held her breath. He walked in.

Silence. Something squeaked. Then more of it, interminable.

Then, “Gina?”

She swallowed. Hard. “Y-yes?”

He poked his head from the doorway. “Come on in.”

She did. Her suite appeared exactly how she left it.

Doug stood in the center of the living room, his Glock
already holstered, his hands in his pockets.

“Nothing?” she asked.

He cocked his head to the left and to the right. “The bed’s
still a mess. My toothbrush is exactly where I left it, and the towels are
still on the floor. So we couldn’t blame it on the maid.”

Gina took a quick look out the door. The housekeeping cart
was still a few rooms away. “Maybe she was going to start but had to do
something else. We can ask her. She’s just down the hall.”

He swiped a hand over his chin. “No, we won’t have to. She
wasn’t here. But maybe her showing up scared someone away.” He went to the
desk. “Were you at this desk this morning?”

“No. I wasn’t even out here. We got up, took a shower.” She
cast him a meaningful glance. He returned it with a half-grin. “Then we got
dressed and left.”

“And you didn’t use the phone. The house phone, I mean.”

“Why should I? I have my BlackBerry.”

“To call the front desk maybe?”

“Doug, you were practically behind me the whole morning.”

“A rather nice place to be.”

She smiled, the tension easing a bit. “Then you would know
if I were using this phone, wouldn’t you? Why would you ask?”

He looked to the desk again. “It’s off the hook.”

She hadn’t noticed. But there it lay, the receiver on its
side about six inches away from the base. “You know if you get a regular room,
they charge fifty cents an outside call. Maybe if…”

Doug looked at her. Then he shook out a handkerchief from
his pocket, picked the receiver up with it and pushed the red button for the
front desk. After a few moments someone answered.

“Good afternoon,” Doug said. “I just have a question. Do you
know if anyone made a call from this room this morning?” He paused, listening.
“Thank you.” And hung up. He looked to Gina. “No calls.” Then he pulled the
receiver cord out and, wrapping the phone in his handkerchief, stuck it in his
pocket.

“Get your things together,” he said. “You’re checking out.”

“I am? But this is the only hotel in town. I’d have to go at
least five miles away, and I know Jack wouldn’t like it—”

“Jack will survive,” Doug said, already walking toward the
bedroom. By the time she caught up with him he was tossing her suitcase to the
bed.

“But where am I supposed to go? I can’t go too far. Oh damn,
Doug. Maybe I should call the police after all.”

“No,” he said, “I finally agree with you on that point.
Publicity will only bring out more crazies. And another hotel won’t do any
good. Nor will any other place with a public entrance.”

She threw out her hands. “Then where do you expect me to
go?”

“My place.”

“Your place? Over on Parker Square? Right next to that big
office complex? A million people could blend in with no problem.”

He plucked a pair of shoes from the floor and threw them
into the suitcase. “I moved out of there a long time ago. Where I live now,
you’ll be as safe as a baby in its mama’s arms.”

She snatched up a carry-on, sliding bottles and jars into
it. “Quiet, is it?”

Doug laughed softly. “Doll, it’s so quiet even the cops
don’t go there anymore.”

Gina laughed too, though barely. Why didn’t she like the
sound of that?

* * * *

HENRY STREET—CITY OF CAMDEN

2:37 P.M.

Gina stepped from the car, her heel catching on an asphalt
crevice. She yanked it out, cursing. To reach his stoop she had to walk around
a pile of garbage, some of which had been recently burning. Since Henry Street
had alternate side of the street parking, the opposite side simply parked on
the sidewalk. On her side the cars were lined bumper-to-bumper, that is if they
had them.

As far as she could see, every third or fourth house was
either boarded up or a burned-out shell. The ones that weren’t had bars on the
windows and double deadbolts. There were no shade trees besides the few stunted
waste trees poking from the empty, garbage-strewn lots at either end of the
block. No children playing, no sign of life in general. Potholes abounded,
broken glass glittered in the curbs, the stop sign was missing from its pole.
The stuccoed side of a building across the street was pitted with bullet holes.
Gina cringed, scaling Doug’s bricked stoop, nearly losing her balance when a
loose one wobbled under her shoe.

“Damn, got to fix that,” Doug said, cupping her elbow.

She grabbed the door handle, righting herself.
At least
his old house didn’t look too disreputable. But still…
“You’re kidding,
right?”

He yanked her huge suitcase up a step. “What do you mean?”

She flung her hand toward the street. “You actually live
here?”

He eyed her, impassive. “Yeah, I do.”

“I thought you said the neighborhood was quiet.”

“As quiet as a cemetery.”

“Because it
is
a cemetery.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He hauled the suitcase up one more
step then set it down, rooting in his pockets for the keys. “The folks here
might not be from the upper echelon, but they’re all decent, working-class
people just trying to make their way in the world.”

“Yeah, by robbing 7-11s.”

He found the key, shoving it into a lock. “You’ve been
spending too much time in Georgetown, woman. You’re forgetting your roots. Not
that they live on my block, but aren’t the very people you’re maligning the
kind you used to defend?”

She looked at him. He was right, of course. Drug dealers,
money launderers, weapons smugglers, robbers, thieves, murderers—she had
defended them all. Most verdicts she had been proud of, some she was not, but
in all she had done her best to the complete letter of the law. Yet, although
she didn’t regret the years she had spent as an attorney for the defense,
neither did she miss it. She was much more content where she was now.

Which is where?

A sudden thought coursed through her—where exactly
was
she now? She loved her position with Jack. There was no question about it. But
now that she was reunited with Doug, after this weekend was over, where would
their relationship take them? If Jack won the governorship she’d be back in New
Jersey, and Trenton was an easy commute, even from Camden. But she’d have to be
in Washington for at least another year. Could their still-shaky liaison
survive the separation? That coming separation was wishful thinking, at best. First
it would have to survive what she’d yet to tell him.

She watched him enter into a worn but surprisingly clean
vestibule, the rubber-matted staircase ahead smelling of oiled wood and recent
disinfection.

“Come on,” he said, yanking the strap of his own wardrobe
bag to his shoulder, hefting her big suitcase. “I’m upstairs.”

Gina caught a glimpse of the downstairs hall. Two doors with
numbers, a stroller tucked in the corner at the far end, a philodendron hanging
from a hook by the window. She crossed in front of Doug for the steps. He
looked like a pack mule. “Let me get your bag,” she said, reaching for it.

“I got it,” he said, a bit indignant, and she relented,
knowing better. She felt a pleasant little twinge at the memory of his bulging
biceps and she smiled, anticipating the feel of his hard body atop hers. Just
as soon as they could manage it, she hoped.

“What are you smiling about?” he asked.

She tilted her head toward the stairwell. “You have a bed up
there?”

His eyes went cobalt. “You bet I do.”

She thumbed his tie, pulled him close, brushed her lips over
his. “Suddenly I’m very sleepy.”

“Don’t worry, doll,” he said, pulling her in for a deeply
erotic kiss, “I got ways of waking you up—”

“Douglas? Douglas, is that you?”

He sighed against Gina’s mouth, smiling sheepishly before
once again hefting her suitcase. “Sure is, Miss Ella. Coming right up.” He
looked to Gina. “Miss Ella owns the building. Hell of a nice lady.”

“Sounds like she’s your surrogate mother.”

He thought about that a moment. “Maybe she is. Come on.”

Miss Ella was waiting for them when they reached the top.
She had a broom in her hand and a wide, lipsticked smile for Doug. “Douglas, a
brick is loose on the stoop again. Somebody gonna kill themselves.”

“I know, I’ll get some mortar for it first thing.” Doug
touched Gina’s arm. “Miss Ella? I want you to meet my friend, Gina. Gina, Miss
Ella.”

“Good afternoon, Miss Ella,” Gina said, smiling graciously.

The older woman gave her an impassive up-and-down before
shooting her gaze to Doug. “I like the looks of this one. Damn sight better
than the trash you been bringing here before.” She looked back to Gina. “That’s
a compliment, miss, what I’m saying.”

Gina nodded. “Thank you.”

“Yes.” Doug laughed. “High praise. Gina will be staying with
me for a couple of days. She works for Congressman Falco.”

At that, Miss Ella’s eyes widened. “You don’t say. Well,
that is impressive. I’ve met him a few times. Nice man. Nice face too.”

Doug set the suitcase to the floor. “Miss Ella’s a ward
leader and works the polls every election. She’s also the secretary for the
local Democratic Club.” He tilted his head to Gina. “Gina was with the DNC.”

Miss Ella smiled wide. “Well, well, young lady, you can stay
here anytime. Douglas, I think you better marry this one.”

Gina felt herself turning crimson. “One step at a time, Miss
Ella, one step.”

Doug raked back his hair and moved closer, lowering his
voice. “Miss Ella, I have a favor to ask you. Gina’s being here is kind of on
the hush now, so I’d appreciate it—”

“Say no more,” she said, holding up a hand. “My lips are
zipped. Ain’t nobody’s business who in your house anyhow. So I won’t be saying
a thing, don’t worry.”

“Thanks,” he said, picking up the suitcase. “I’ll get on
that mortar first thing.”

She took one look at Gina, then went back to sweeping. “Sure
you will, Douglas, but I ain’t holding my breath.”

He laughed, unlocking his door, then stood aside to let Gina
step in.

She stepped into a Spartan space that was at first glance
surprisingly cozy. There was one big room, with a small kitchen, a closet, and
what she assumed was a bathroom on one side. In the big space was a sofa, an easy
chair and TV atop a bookcase near the entrance, the hardwood floor covered in a
large hooked rug. Opposite the door was a window with dark, plaid curtains
right next to… Gina’s eyes widened on the biggest, heaviest iron bed she had
ever seen.

Gina dropped her carry-on, walking up to the painted
cast-iron footboard. “You weren’t kidding, were you?”

He ran his hand over its gleaming-white surface. “She’s a
beauty, isn’t she? Was nothing but rust and chipping lead paint when I found
her up in the attic. Miss Ella wanted to throw it out, but I asked her if I
could have it. She looked at me like I was nuts, but she let me. Spent six
months stripping, painting and putting her back together.” He pressed his hand
to the plush dark-blue quilt atop it. “Got a new mattress and box spring. Hop
on up.”

Gina stepped back, suddenly feeling a bit sick. “No, I don’t
think so.”

“Why?” asked Doug softly. “What’s wrong?”

It was irrational and she knew it, as she hadn’t exactly
been a saint. But she couldn’t help herself. With any other man it would’ve
been ridiculous, but with Doug, it was unthinkable.

“I just can’t.” She dug her hand through her hair. “I know
it doesn’t make sense, but just the thought of you making love with someone
else in this—”

“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute.” He took her by the shoulders. “
Making
love
?” He stooped to look in her eyes. “Did you already forget what I told
you last night? I haven’t fucked anyone since you. Don’t you believe me?”

She shrugged. “But what Miss Ella just said—”

“Miss Ella was exactly right. Because what she saw was what
I should’ve never been disrespecting her house with in the first place. But
when I did I was usually too hammered to give a shit. You care to know?”

“Not really.”

“Too bad. I’m going to tell you anyway.” He turned. “See
that wall?” He pointed to the bare space near the door. “What you see there is
basically a crime scene. Because that’s where I committed one every now and
then when I was too drunk or beyond caring to get it in an alley. Where
whatever whore I managed to buy off Ferry Avenue would open my pants and blow
me before I’d stuff a twenty down her tits and toss her back on the street.”

He turned, gripping her arms again. “Making love? Is that
what you think it was? All it was was come shots down a lot of strangers’
throats. Who didn’t give a damn about me past how much money they could get or
if maybe I’d forget seeing them buying a bag of smack the week before. Trust
me, there was no love made here. Could you say the same thing, wherever the
hell you’ve been?”