Page 105 of Forged By Sacrifice

It weighed on her heavier than me these days. Her family. The jail sentence and the Russian “businessman.” The drugs her mom had used when Georgie was younger. If Georgie and I made it past the dating phase, and I actually decided to stick to the plan of running for office, it would all come up—every last pea of their mixed goulash of a history. I’d sort of gotten used to the idea. I’d already started running scenarios in my head of ways that we could state the facts, repeatedly, if needed.

On the other hand, the truth was, every day I spent in Senator Matherton’s office had me liking it less. I was trying to figure out if it was the sleazebags that I saw hitting on Dani, the jostling for position, the current political climate, or the idea of me having to sift through it all to win and make a difference on the Hill. I hadn’t said any more to Dani about it, and I hadn’t breathed a word to Georgie, because I didn’t want her to think I was making my decision because of her. She felt guilty enough.

I ran my finger along her face to the tender spot by her ear that I couldn’t seem to keep my hands or lips off of, playing with the row of earrings on her lobe. “If I don’t like them, it isn’t going to make me like you less.”

She pushed her forehead into my chest, frustration entering her voice that wasn’t directed at me but at herself. “I’ve never cared before. People either accepted my family and me for who we were, and they stayed in my life, or they didn’t like them and they left my life. But the thought of you not liking them and leaving…it’s different. It hurts in a way I’ve never had anything hurt. Not since…”

I rubbed her back. “Not since you lost your parents.”

She looked back up at me, eyes wide. “I didn’t really lose them.”

“You did. You lost the child version of them. You didn’t get to wake up with them there to greet you. They weren’t there at the end of the day to ask about school. You suffered a loss. A huge one. Your world changed. Loss is loss, even if it doesn’t come from death.”

“You’re really smart for a jockish military man.”

“Jockish? That isn’t even a word, is it?” I grinned.

Her lips twitched, and I wanted to continue to play the part I’d always played to get her beautiful lips turned up into a full smile.

“Eli was the brains of our group. I was the arm candy.”

She laughed, like I’d wanted her to, and I kissed her sensual, full lips. She kissed me back hard, as if she was trying to take the frustration and fear and guilt and work it out through her lips on mine. I was happy to let her, hoping I could find a way to bring her comfort. To smooth the flyaways bouncing around her inside just like she was always smoothing away the flyaways on her hair.

? ? ?

It was close to seven when Georgie and I made our way to the five-star hotel on the pier where her siblings had a suite reserved. They were meeting us in the lobby, and we were going to walk down to the new restaurants on the revitalized wharf.

Georgie had given up her cotton summer dresses, which I’d come to think of as being the embodiment of her style, for an elegant halter top and slacks ironed to a crisp. She’d exchanged her flat sandals for wedges that brought her close to eye level with all six-foot-four of me. I’d dumped my suit jacket and tie but kept my slacks and button down.

As we walked, heads turned. I was used to women looking at me. All my friends had given me enough flack about it when I was with them, even when any and all of them drew eyes as well. But the looks Georgie and I incurred… It was like people were trying to figure out who we were. Were we someone important? I liked to think the woman next to me was very important, but not in the way the people watching us might have thought.

When we walked into the gilded lobby, a squeal caused me to turn just as a body crashed into Georgie. My hand tightened on hers until I saw her smile over the top of the head that was buried into her chest, and I relaxed.

When the girl pulled away, I saw lots of Georgie in her. But she was blonde and shorter than Georgie by about a good six inches, even in her own heels. She had brown eyes that weren’t anywhere near as pretty as Georgie’s contacts, but they were appealing, surrounded in dark lashes and liner.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Georgie said, her smile wide and happy, just the way I liked it.

“You look model perfect,” Raisa said with her own smile. Her voice, with its accent, accompanied by her looks, was certainly going to make her a hit with the guys at Stanford.

“You look like you’ve grown up,” Georgie said and tugged gently at the blonde curls. “Where’s Malik?”

Raisa pouted, her red-lipsticked lips jutting out in a way that would also be appealing to the right guy. I’d never been one to go for a pout. “He said to text him the name of the restaurant because he has some people to meet with first.”

Georgie’s smile turned to a frown. “Did Petya send him on business?”

Raisa shook her head, eyes flitting to me and then back to Georgie, and I wanted to call bullshit, but wouldn’t. Georgie was nervous enough about me meeting them. “No. Just some friends of his,” she said before turning to me and sticking out a hand. “You must be Macauley. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

I shook her hand. “The pleasure is mine.”

She took me in from the top of my head to the bottom of my dress shoes before turning to Georgie with a wider smile. “He is very good match.”

“Har-har,” Georgie said, linking her arm through her sister’s. “Don’t go all Mom on me. Are you able to walk in those?”

Raisa’s shoes were wobbly spikes versus Georgie’s wedges. “Of course. Am I not Manya Leskov’s daughter?”

Georgie laughed. “Come on. There’s a place on the wharf that Mac assures me has good seafood.”

“Hey. Have I steered you wrong once with food in D.C.?” I asked, picking up Georgie’s free hand as the three of us left the hotel to walk down to the waterfront.

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