Turn To Me (3 page)

“This is Kathleen Turner,” Blane said.  “Kathleen, this is Senator Robert Keaston.”

My eyes widened in surprise.  I had known this evening was for a Senator, but hadn't realized it was this particular one.  Even I, who followed politics not at all, knew the name, as often as it was in the news.  Robert Keaston was a powerful Senator who had been elected and re-elected so many times I wondered that they even bothered with the formality any longer.

“Pleased to meet you,” I managed to squeak out through lips frozen into a smile.

“Likewise, my dear,” the Senator said, giving me a quick look over.

“Where's Vivian?” Blane asked, thankfully diverting the Senator's attention from me before he could ask any questions.

“Oh, she's over there with some other hens wanting to talk her ear off about some charity or another,” answered Keaston with a wave of his hand.  “You're sitting with me tonight, aren't you, Blane?”

“I don't think so, sir,” Blane said regretfully.  “I'm sure they have me seated elsewhere.”

“Well, we'll fix that,” Keaston replied, gesturing to a woman hovering nearby.  She quickly came forward and he said something to her too low for me to overhear.  With a nod, she left to do his bidding.

“That's not necessary, sir,” Blane protested, but Keaston waved his hand dismissively.

“You may not be of the right party,” Keaston said with a mock glare of disapproval, then he smiled, “but you're family.”

Shock went through me and I couldn't stop a quick look at Blane.  He glanced uncomfortably at me before returning his attention to Keaston. 

Family?  Blane was related to one of the most powerful men in the US Senate?  That would have been helpful to know.  If I'd felt out of place before, now I felt like a downright intruder.

“I have to do the rounds, Blane,” the Senator said, “I'm sure you understand.” 

Blane nodded.  “Of course.”

“But I'll see you at dinner.”  Keaston looked my way and gave a short nod of dismissal.  “My dear.”

I automatically smiled and watched as Keaston ambled toward another knot of people, all of whom turned his way with fawning smiles.  George and Sarah had drifted off as well, leaving Blane and me with a blessed moment alone in the midst of the crowd.  I looked up at Blane.

“Family?”  I asked, hoping that perhaps the Senator hadn't meant in the blood-relation sense.

“Great-Uncle,” he answered shortly, dashing those hopes.

“Why didn't you tell me?” I asked, trying to keep the dismay from my voice.

“I didn't think it mattered,” he replied quietly, taking my hand.  “Does it?”

I didn't know what to say.  I felt like the proverbial fish out of water and my mouth moved soundlessly, as if I were gasping for air.  How was I to explain to Blane, who no doubt had never felt out of place in his life, how this news had impacted me?  I was saved from replying as yet another couple came by to greet Blane.

I had underestimated the number of people who knew Blane and wanted to ingratiate themselves with him.  I lost track of the names almost immediately after I was introduced, but I marveled at how Blane was never at a loss for a name or a smile.  I watched with admiration as he wove his magic around those with whom he spoke, seeing in their eyes how he captivated them as he made each person feel special, sending them on their way with the certainty that they were important to him.  It was amazing and I was proud of his skills, which seemed to come very naturally indeed.  My smile grew less forced as it became clear that no one had any interest in me. They barely paid me any attention at all.  I was glad to melt into the background at Blane's side.

Blane and I made our way around the room and I was feeling more relaxed since it seemed nothing was really expected of me except to smile and nod.  Blane's hand was reassuring on the small of my back as we turned toward another couple.  I stiffened immediately.

It was Kandi-with-an-i, the woman Blane had dated before me.  She'd been none too happy about losing Blane and had expressed her contempt for me on Halloween, showing up at The Drop dressed in a fairy costume that I'm sure cost more than I had made that night.  She was beautiful and had made no bones about the fact that she felt Blane was slumming it by being with me.  Tall with long, straight blonde hair, tonight she wore a red dress that hugged her body.  She was absolutely stunning and I hated her.

“Nice to see you again, Blane,” she greeted him, ignoring me completely.

“Kandi,” Blane replied evenly, “I didn't realize you'd be here this evening.”

“I'm here with my father,” she said with a smug smile, tipping her head towards a knot of people standing a short ways away.  “You know what good friends he and the Senator are.”

Blane gave a curt nod.  “Of course,” he said.  “How are you?”

She moved closer to him, insinuating herself between us so Blane's hand was forced to release mine.

“I'm very good, as I'm sure you remember,” I heard her say huskily.  Her breasts brushed suggestively against his arm as she leaned into him.

My eyes narrowed.  The tramp.  I may not have grown up with her wealth and privilege, but at least I had manners, though I was having a hard time remembering them at the moment.  I very much wanted to grab a hunk of her pretty blonde hair and yank.  Hard.

“Call me,” I heard her whisper in his ear before she walked away, her hand trailing lightly across his chest.

“Sorry about that,” Blane said quietly, a grimace passing quickly over his face when he looked at me.  I made my lips stretch into a tight smile.

“She's very pretty,” I said diplomatically.  I struggled not to sound jealous or bitchy.  I didn't think I succeeded.

“Most people would say so,” he replied.  He slid his arm around my back and tugged my stiff body closer to him, overcoming my resistance with ease.  “But she's not my type.  Not anymore.”

“Oh, really?” I said sarcastically, trying to ignore the effect of the heat from his body warmed me through the thin material of my dress.  “What's your type?” 

Blane bent and leaned close to me.  “I prefer a woman with long hair the color of the sunset and eyes as clear blue as a twilight sky.  She's got an Irish temper and likes her bourbon.  Her guilty pleasure is a certain well-known pop princess and she has a passion for rocky road ice cream.  Her skin is the color of peaches bathed in cream and is as smooth as silk.” 

His lips brushed against my ear as he spoke, sending a thrill of heat through me.  I looked up at him and couldn't hold on to my irritation at Kandi.  I melted into him, as he had no doubt known I would.  The corners of his lips were tipped up ever so slightly, as if he were thinking about smiling.  I was mesmerized by the stormy gray of his eyes, flecks of green sparkling from their depths. 

“And if I were to tell her about the perfection of her breasts,” he continued, the huskiness of his voice making me shiver, “that her body was made to fit mine, or how the noises she makes when I make love to her drive me crazy, she'd blush nearly to her toes.”

My mouth dropped open at his audacity and my face flushed, as he'd predicted.  Regardless, I couldn't help smiling and he let out a small huff of laughter, the tension Kandi had created dissipating.

“Let's find our seats,” he said, his eyes twinkling.  “I'm starving.”

He took my hand and led me to a table near the front.  It seemed Senator Keaston was as good as his word because our seats were with him and a woman I assumed was his wife.  She looked to be only in her fifties, though I thought looks might be deceiving.  To my dismay, I saw that Kandi and a man who was obviously her father were also seated at the table.  George and Sarah were there, too.  One other couple we'd met that evening rounded out the seats, the man a member of the Senator's staff, though I couldn't remember their names.

“Blane!” the older woman happily exclaimed.  She went to rise from her chair but Blane quickly stepped to her side, forestalling her and pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek.

“Good evening, Vivian,” Blane said warmly.  “Don't get up.”

“Robert said you were here tonight,” she said as Blane held out my chair for me to sit down.  “Thank you for coming to support him.”

“I wouldn't have missed it,” Blane replied, sliding into the seat on my left.  He’d seated me beside Vivian.  I wanted to grumble about Kandi’s place at his left side, but that would be catty.  I chose to be the better person.  I wouldn’t even throw food at her.  Probably.

Blane introduced me to the very kind and gracious Vivian; I liked her immediately.  I could tell that Blane was very fond of her as well.  Tall and slight of build, she had a powerful presence about her.

Dinner was served and I kept quiet as I ate, listening to the small talk at the table and trying to make sure I didn't drip anything on my dress.  Kandi chatted easily with the Senator and Vivian as well as the others.  I tried not to feel like a kid at the grownups table. 

I observed with growing dismay as Kandi drew Blane into conversation with George and Sarah, frequently laying her hand possessively on his arm.  Blane couldn't very well be rude to her in front of everyone, but I was disgruntled to see how friendly he was with her as they joined in the laughter around the table. 

I ate another tiny bite of some kind of fish they'd served, my appetite now gone, and pushed my food around on my plate in glum silence.

I think Vivian must have felt sorry for me being left out of the conversation because she turned to me and asked, “Kathleen, isn't it?” 

I swallowed the lump of fish, quickly passing my napkin over my mouth as I nodded.  “Yes, ma'am.”

“Please, call me Vivian,” she said with a smile.  “And what do you do for a living, Kathleen?”

I shifted uneasily, but knew I couldn't lie to her.  Thankfully, everyone else was still involved in their own conversations so no one was really paying attention to us.  “I work for Blane as a runner,” I said, “and I tend bar at night.” 

Vivian's eyes widened a fraction in surprise before she masked it.  “I see,” she said kindly.  “And are you from Indianapolis?”  Beyond her, I saw the Senator's eyes flick in our direction for a fraction of a second and I knew that while he was talking to his staff person next to him, he was also listening to us.

“No, ma'am,” I answered, unable to shake my mother's lessons in manners enough to call Vivian by her given name – respect for my elders had been drilled into me.  “I'm from Rushville, Indiana.  My parents grew up there.”

“And what do they do?”

“My dad was a policeman,” I said.  “My mother stayed home.  They both passed some years ago.”

“I'm so sorry,” Vivian said sympathetically and to my surprise, her hand reached out to grasp mine.  “Do you have other family?  A brother or sister, perhaps?”

I shook my head.  “I have an uncle and cousin, but we don't keep in touch.”  Truthfully, I couldn't even say where my dad's brother and son lived anymore.  It had been years since I'd heard from them, since Mom's funeral, actually.

Vivian's grip on my hand tightened, her face creasing in a frown.  “You're awfully young to be on your own,” she remarked thoughtfully.

My smile was tight.  I was unsure how to respond.  I didn't want her pity, but neither did I want to appear rude.  “I do all right,” I said, slipping my hand from hers. 

“So, Blane,” the Senator said, bringing everyone’s attention to him, “are you going to tell us how the Waters trial is going?  A lot of important people in Washington are watching to see how this turns out.  You win this case, it'll be the biggest moment of your career.  So far.” 

Everyone's eyes turned to Blane, waiting for his answer, their interest in this topic obvious.

I looked at Blane in confusion.  What Waters trial?  Biggest moment of his career?  What was Keaston talking about?

Blane didn't usually say much about his work.  I didn't know why – if he just didn't want to talk work after hours, or if he didn't think I was interested.  While you would think I'd know everything going on at the firm since I worked there, regardless of what Blane told me, I was frequently out of the office making runs.  When I wasn't out of the office, I was still separated from Blane by four floors.

“It's going well,” Blane replied, his face a mask of polite indifference.

Senator Keaston chuckled.  “From what I hear, it's going better than that, son,” he said.  “You win this case, your name will be on everyone's short list.”

Short list?  Short list for what?  My confusion increased.  I tried to catch Blane's eye but he just shook his head, not looking at me.

“I don't know about that,” he said.  “The prosecution is pretty tough.  We'll just have to see how it turns out.  It'll be in the jury's hands.”

“You'll beat James,” Kandi said confidently.  “He’s no match for you in front of a jury and everyone knows it.”

“James?” I interrupted incredulously.  “James Gage?”  This time Blane did turn to look at me, his expression unreadable.

“Yes, dear.”  Kandi was the one to answer my question.  Her voice dripped condescension.  “You do know name of the District Attorney, don't you?”

My face heated at her disdain but I refused to look at her, my gaze still locked with Blane's.  I couldn't believe he hadn't told me. 

James Gage was the son of the former senior partner at Blane's firm of Gage, Kirk and Trent, now just Kirk and Trent.  His father, William Gage, had been indicted for fraud and accessory to murder.  William had been behind the recent scandal that involved a local computer company, TecSol, rigging online election voting.  He'd also been responsible for the death of my friend Sheila and her boyfriend Mark, who had worked for TecSol.  James had been involved as well but had gotten off scot-free, even winning the election for Indianapolis District Attorney. 

James and I had gone on one date - a date he felt gave him license to be jealous of Blane's attention to me.  Remember I said I'd learned the hard way about checking the peephole in my door before opening it?  That was because of James, who had hit me and tried to choke me when he found out Blane and I were together.  Only the quick actions of CJ, my neighbor at the time and someone I'd thought a friend, had saved me from even graver injury.