Page 1 of The Senator

CHAPTER 1

SPENCER BRADY

“Is this correct? This can’t be accurate. Ladies and gentlemen, bear with me while I verify breaking information.” The news anchor’s mumbling was picked up by the microphone in his hand as he conferred with the production assistant handing him a tablet. Finally, he glanced at the camera, seeming to have gathered himself—or remembering he was broadcasting live—and cleared his throat.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’ve been informed that NBS is projecting the winner of the Senate election in Virginia to be…” Blaire Conner hesitated, as if he was afraid to say the results out loud.

The room went quiet as everyone waited on tenterhooks for the next words out of the reporter’s mouth—words I dreaded to hear as much as he likely didn’t want to say them.

I was seated in the formal living room in one of the navy wingback chairs, it’s mate now empty after my wife left the room. I, too, was anxious to learn what the Fates had in store for us; however, I wasn’t exactly thrilled the news would be delivered to the world at large at the same time I was learning it.

Our home in Great Falls, Virginia, was filled with my campaign staff, office staff, friends, supporters, and lastly, my small family, though my son had refused to come downstairs to listen to the returns. To say it had been a bad year for me was a vast understatement.

It was never a good sign when the incumbent became immersed in scandal so close to an election. In my case, I was literally caught with my pants down three months earlier. My weak defense was that I still couldn’t figure out how it happened.

I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder, fingers quivering as much as my own. I glanced up to see my long-suffering wife with a pained look on her weary face. Standing, I led her back to the kitchen where she’d originally gone to make coffee and probably gather herself, while the world as we knew it tilted on its axis.

We’d learn the election results from the sounds emanating from the living room anyway, so there was no need to risk someone in my circle of acquaintances taking pictures of us at a vulnerable moment and releasing them to the media. We’d been in the spotlight more than anyone needed to be. I was done with it.

“Vani, love, did you call Bertram as I suggested? I won’t fight you for anything. Take what you want. I can be out of the house by tomorrow if that’s what you need.” She didn’t deserve being dragged through my mud, and the sooner I was out of her life, the better it would be for her.

All our friends had taken sides during the three months between the revelation of my affair and election day. I didn’t mind that everyone was sympathetic to Vani. The nasty things they said about me, I could handle, but my loyal companion of twenty years would not fare the same.

“Spencer, I refuse to allow you to go through this alone. What we do, or don’t do, in our bedroom is our business. Outing you as they did is unconscionable. Whoever did that to you deserves to be horsewhipped. Thankfully, Blaire wasn’t caught up in it, too, but I refuse to allow you to suffer the judgment of a bunch of hypocrites! We had an arrangement, and it was—and still is—nobody’s business.” Vanessa’s conviction in her statement was admirable.

A collective groan sounded from the living room, and I knew it was over. I looked into Vanessa’s eyes and saw the sadness, but all I felt was relief. “Come here.” I opened my arms for her, and she stepped forward, clutching the kerchief in her hand while crying softly against my chest.

In my heart, I knew she was relieved, but the fact my reputation was effectively in the shitter was sort of tragic, which was likely why she was upset.

I didn’t want her to be tainted by my mistakes, so I made up my mind to stay out of the spotlight as much as possible. It would give Vani a chance to seriously consider what I’d tried to get her to understand—I was damaged goods, and being supportive of me would only bring her down as well. Our time in the sun had ended in a shitstorm.

I found a baseball cap in my closet and grabbed my glasses from the nightstand, having popped out my contacts after everyone had finally left—some a lot more intoxicated than was necessary under the circumstances.

Getting elected with a scandal over my head was a no-win proposition, but I appreciated that my Senate and campaign staff had remained optimistic—the ones who hadn’t deserted the sinking ship in August.

I was confident that all the folks who’d staffed my Senate offices in the Capitol would find employment easily, and the paid campaign staff would be snatched up quickly because in every campaign, there was a winner and a loser. Besides, once a government wonk, always a government wonk.

Those who walked out the day the scandal hit the papers hadn’t fared so well, most of whom were still trying to find jobs, if what the rumor mill was ginning out had any basis in truth. Sadly, in a town like Washington, DC, loyalty—under any circumstances—weighed more heavily in one’s favor than fleeing the scene before being touched by the stench of disgrace.

“You sure this is a good idea, Spence?” my Senate chief of staff, Mario Fernandez asked, glancing in the rearview to change lanes. That poor bastard had been through hell and back with me, starting when we both graduated from UVA and then staying on for law school together. He knew me as well as Vanessa, but I supposed that’s why he still hung around.

It was like I had two spouses—two spouses and no sex to speak of, especially after the scandal overtook the headlines. What a load of horseshit it all turned out to be.

“I gotta go talk to him. Clearly, everyone believes I’m a dirty son of a bitch, so I expect Attorney General Milson will begin an investigation any day now. You’ll all be under the microscope with me, but I still want to ensure Blaire stays out of the fray. He just got promoted to a network job. I won’t be his downfall, too.

“I’m considering taking some time away at the end of the year, but I’ll stay in touch so you can find me if I need to come back to testify before the Ethics Committee or something. Just drop me at the corner up here.” I pointed to the end of the upcoming block.

Mario shook his head in disagreement, but I was doing what was best for everyone. Since the scandal broke, my parents had cut off all communication with my family, and our adopted son, Jay, was having a hell of a time keeping a low profile at college. He’d come home for election night, but I was certain he was leaving in the morning as soon as he could pack his Escape and get on the road. It was mind blowing how quickly everything went to hell.

Three Months Earlier

“Come on, Spence, we can’t take a vacation together. What will Vanessa say if she finds out?” Blaire hissing into the phone made me chuckle. I was outside the Senate chamber, having cast my vote for the last bill on the agenda before the August recess.

“Vani and Jay are going to Portsmouth to see her folks before Jay starts school at Tech this fall, and I want to go away for a week before I start campaigning around the Commonwealth. Vani’s going on the campaign trail with me, but it was her idea that I take a week to myself. I’ll take care of everything, sweetheart. Please come with me?” Begging wasn’t my usual MO.

Blaire Conner, a local network newscaster, and I had met at a fundraising dinner in January hosted by prominent lobbyist, Sean Fitzpatrick of The Fitzpatrick Group, and we hit it off extremely well. It was an unwritten rule in DC circles that media members who were invited to such events didn’t share information they learned through casual conversations, or they weren’t invited again. The town worked in mysterious ways, but most people followed the same code of conduct, or they quickly found themselves on the outside looking in.

“Are you sure this is safe? I mean?—”

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