Someone To Believe In (34 page)

She was silent.

“You don’t believe me.”

“I don’t know what to believe.”

They passed Joanie’s desk, and Mica’s
office. His press secretary looked up and her brows rose in
surprise. Once inside, Clay closed the door, went to his desk, and
leaned against it, trying to control his temper. He hated how this
woman pushed his buttons. “I thought you believed in
me
.”

“Clay, he offered me a job doing exactly what
you want me to do: take an administrative position—in Washington, I
might add—as opposed to working directly with gang kids.”

“You like working with schools. Every time
you go to one, you talk about how much you feel you’ve
accomplished.”

“That’s not the point.”

Ignoring her, he went on. “I told you there
was a lot you could do for gang kids in Washington.”

“So you did set me up.”

“No. I swear I didn’t. But what’s the big
deal even if I had? Holy hell, Bailey, don’t you see this is a way
we could be together?”

“Once again, by my giving up everything I
love.”

He arched a brow. “Everything?”

“I didn’t mean it that way.”

His gaze was hard.

“Don’t blur the personal and professional
lines, Clay.”

“Those lines were blurred the minute you
slept with me.”

She glanced at her watch. “I have to go. My
train is in an hour.”

He sighed. “All right. I hate to see you
leave like this.” His tone was coaxingly intimate.

“I know. Me, too. I’m sorry we clash so
badly.”

“Don’t use it as an excuse to separate
us.”

“We don’t need an excuse.”

“Bailey.” He started to approach her.

“Don’t. Not here,” she nodded to the office.
“It wouldn’t be right.”

“Fine. Will you call me?”

“Yes.” She crossed to the door, reached for
the handle, but looked over her shoulder. “Clay?”

“Yes?”

“Before this, it was a nice weekend. I
enjoyed it. Thank you.”

Arms folded over his chest, he sat on the
edge of his desk. “You’re welcome. I enjoyed it too.”

She walked out of the office, leaving
him with a heart full of conflicting emotions. He was angry that
she’d believe he set her up with Stewart, and hurt that she still
talked in terms of them not making it. There was no way in
hell
he’d
let
her
go. On the other hand, he admired
her spunk and commitment to what she believed in. It was, after
all, what drew him to her. Was he going to lose her now, because of
that?

No! He wouldn’t let that happen. She was his
now, in every way except legally. And once he got her to agree to
that, she’d have to work things out.

“YOU’RE
WHAT?
”

“I’m in love with her.”

Thorn dropped down into a chair openmouthed.
Clay had never seen his staid chief of staff so rattled. “With the
Street Angel?”

“Yes.” From behind his desk, Clay fiddled
with the picture of him and Jon on the surface. He wanted to be
able to put one of Bailey out here. One of Rory.

“I’m shocked. You said she was with you
Saturday night, but you’re in
love
with her?” His eyes narrowed. “How long has this been going
on?”

“Since July, really.”

Thorn’s brows rose as if he’d thought of
something. “You’re not using your relationship with her to get her
off our back, are you?”

“No!”

“It’s been done, Senator.”

“Not by me. And I really resent your asking
if it was.”

“I’m sorry for the implication.”

“You should be. Hell, Thorn, is that what you
think of me?”

“No, Clay. I believe in your integrity. This
is just such a surprise.”

“To me, too.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” He sat back and put his feet up on
the desk. “Though I warn you I don’t have a lot of answers.”

“How did this happen?”

Clay laughed, a confused, male, stupid
laugh. “I wish I knew. None of it was planned. I just
liked
her right away, that day I went
up to New York. The time you suggested I mend fences. For some
reason, the feeling was mutual. Then it got out of hand physically,
and before I knew it, I was crazy about her.”

“She feel the same way?”

“Yes, except that she fought it like a pit
bull. Still, here we are.”

Thorn frowned. “And where is that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Where do you see this going?”

“I want to marry her.”

Thorn’s jaw tightened. “Career-wise that
wouldn’t be a good move.”

“Be careful what you say here, Thorn.”

“I have to be candid. She’s a single mother.
Never married. She’s spent time in jail. The press would have a
field day with all that. Then there’s the public animosity between
you two. Reporters would go wild.”

“We could handle that, I think. But that’s
not my main concern.”

His chief of staff did not look pleased.

“I’d risk all that. She’s a hard-working,
unselfish woman. Her successes are phenomenal. Eventually the
press—and voters—would see that.”

“Maybe. We could put a kind of Cinderella
spin on it.”

Clay shook his head. “But if we go public,
then Bailey’s job at ESCAPE is over.”

“Well, that would be good. We’ve wanted to
close them down. You’d get the girl and your way with anti–youth
gang policies.”

“Chuck Stewart asked her if she’d be
interested in a government post in Washington working with
HEW.”

“That could be tricky.”

“It’s all tricky.”

Thorn said, “She going to take it?”

“Hell no. She’s furious about the situation.
She asked me if I set her up.”

“Did you?”

“No.” Running a hand through his hair, he
stared up at the ceiling. “The worst part is, I worry about her
safety all the time.”

“You always said the safety of the workers at
ESCAPE concerned you. Must be hard to be in love with one of
them.”

“It is.” He sighed and took a bead on Thorn.
“Tell me what you think of all this.”

“It’s politically dangerous. Your reelection
to the Senate might withstand it, but your chance of being selected
for the vice presidential candidate could be hurt by it. Somehow, I
can’t see Bailey O’Neil as second lady.”

“She’s not a Republican.”

“Icing on the cake, Senator. As your chief of
staff, I recommend you stop seeing her.”

“How about as my friend for ten years?”

Thorn watched Clay, his cool gray eyes shrewd
and assessing. “Off the record, if I were forty-five and single,
and I fell in love, I’d fight for her. But Clay, this doesn’t sound
like your decision. It sounds like she won’t change her life for
you.”

Why does my whole life have to change?

“Will she?”

“I don’t think so.”

“So, is there any choice to be made?”

“Maybe not.”

The thought depressed the hell out of
him.

BAILEY WALKED INTO the pub at four that day
feeling bereft. Instead of the weekend making things clearer, her
time with Clay only clouded the issue. She could still hear Stewart
throw the newest monkey wrench into their relationship.

Jim Smith is working on creating a post in
HEW that deals with youth crime...its focus would be the
schools...would you be interested in applying for the job?

Rory, who was sitting at a table coloring
with Kathleen, leaped up when he saw his mother, made a run for
her, and practically tackled her to the ground. “Hi, buddy.” She
kissed him soundly and held on tight. “I missed you.”

“Me, too. Camping was awesome. We saw a
snake, a ’coon, and lots of beavers.”

She smiled at him. “Tell me more.” They both
sat on stools. As he chatted, her mind kept drifting to Clay and
what was going to happen with them. “Mommy, how’s Clay?”

“Oh, um, good. But keep it down, pal. We
still want this to be a secret.”

He handed her a picture. “It’s for Jon.”

“Oh, honey, this is great.” She stared at the
stick figure who bore faint resemblance to Jeter only because of
his number two Yankee jersey. “He likes Jeter, too.”

She felt a presence behind the bar and turned
to find a scowling Patrick there. “Welcome back.” He leaned over
and kissed her cheek. Rory slid off the stool and Bailey flipped
the drawing over.

“Have a good time?” Patrick asked as he began
to wash some glasses.

“Um, yeah. It was mostly work, though.”

“Hmm.”

“What?”

“You went down Friday. Never called to check
in or anything. Sounds like you were busy.”

“You got something to say, Paddy?”

“Yeah, I do.” He braced his hands on the bar.
“It’s obvious you were with a guy. We saw evidence of somebody
you’re seein’ all over your steps that morning.” She just stared at
him. “What’s happened to you, girl? You used to talk to us. Tell us
stuff. All of a sudden this guy is in the picture and you don’t say
nothin’?”

She watched her brother with a lump in his
throat. He was right.

“Me, Liam, and Dylan decided he’s married. Is
that it?”

“No! I wouldn’t fool around with a married
man after what Dad did.”

Patrick’s gaze narrowed. Of all the O’Neil
siblings, he had the most trouble with their father’s infidelity.
“Then who on earth would you have to hide?”

Bailey swallowed hard, so sick of all this.
To hell with it. “I’m in love with Clayton Wainwright. And so help
me God, Paddy, if you throw a fit about this, I’m gonna
scream.”

Patrick just stared at her, his blue eyes
disbelieving; she squirmed on the stool.

“Well,” he finally said, “I can see why you’d
keep it a secret.”

She deflated like a balloon losing air. Tears
clouded her eyes.

“Aw, baby, he doesn’t feel the same about
you?”

“It’s not that.” She shook her head and
forced back the tears. “He wants to get married.”

“Holy shit.”

“I know. Can you imagine it? Me, a political
wife.”

Patrick laughed deep and from the belly.
“You’d set Washington on its ear, honey.”

“I’d never fit in with my background.”

“What’s wrong with your background?”

“Pat, I spent time in jail.”

“Where this guy put you!”

“I have a child and no marriage.”

“Fuck it, Bailey. You raised a good kid.”

“We own a pub, for Christ’s sake. I don’t fit
into his social strata.”

Now her brother’s temper spiked. She could
see it in the flash of fire in his eyes. “You ashamed of us, lass?
Of your background?”

“Of course not. I love our family, who we
are.”

“So the problem is you and him.”

“Uh-huh. We just don’t mesh.”

He picked up a towel and folded it
meticulously. “I know how that goes.”

Reaching over she touched his arm. “You and
Brie not doin’ any better?”

“She had a date last night. Kathleen let the
cat out of the bag.”

“Oh, Paddy.”

“She told me last week since it was my
decision to move out, and since I was being so pigheaded, she might
as well look for somebody else.”

“That doesn’t sound like Brie.”

His face flushed. “I was...out of control at
the time. We’d just...” He glanced to the side. “Hell, you know. We
fooled around, and then she got mad because I thought that changed
everything.”

“Oh, Paddy.”

“I did, Bay. I thought it meant things
were settled, that we were gonna get back together. Instead,
she’s
dating
.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s hard when somebody’s so different from
you.”

“Believe me I know. And it’s not just that
for us.”

“Take my mind off my troubles and tell
me.”

She talked about having to give up
ESCAPE.

“Well, if he’d get you out of that place,
it’d be enough for me to give my blessing on this
relationship.”

“What relationship?” Liam asked.

Bailey glanced over to see he and Dylan had
arrived for the family dinner.

Paddy looked to her. There was a question in
his eyes. He was right. She shouldn’t be keeping this from her
family. “Okay, guys. I got something to tell you. But I swear, if
you get mad, I’ll never tell you another thing.”

As Bailey told her family about Clay—with
minimal fireworks—she realized how much deeper her whole
relationship with him had gone. They accepted it like Paddy, with
grim resignation, for her sake. But they were anything but
optimistic about things working out.

Then again, neither was she.

“YOU HAVE EIGHTEEN messages.” Taz stared at
her cell phone, ready to ditch it along with her colors and her
blade and everything else associated with her posse. .

You don’t have them anymore, Taz. They’ve
turned against you.

Slowly she stuffed her GG’s jacket, do-rags,
and bandana into a paper sack. She’d be flying no more colors.
She’d do no more 8-ball. She wouldn’t be in the mix.

But at least she hadn’t put in any work. She
couldn’t live with herself if she’d killed somebody.

You can start a new life, Taz. Be who and
what you want to be. There are people in Rochester to help you do
it.

She was just about to drop the phone in the
bag when it rang. She checked caller ID. What they hell? Couldn’t
she at least say good-bye to her sisters? “Taz here.”

“Tazzie, baby, where are you?”

“I’m gone, Maze.”

“Whatdaya mean?”

“I’m leavin’ town.”

“Aw, come on, we need you.”

“You booked, Maze. When I was bleedin’ in
that stinkin’ alley, you jetted out.”

“We came back. You were gone.” Silence. “Who
got ya?”

“Nobody.”