Page 14 of The Senator

Spencer glanced at me before he turned to Mario. “You’ve known I was gay since we met in undergrad. It wouldn’t have mattered to me, Mario. I thought you were one of my best friends, and I foolishly believed we told each other everything.” The sound of the Senator’s voice reflected how hurt he was by the man’s comment, but I could tell Spence had taken it the wrong way.

“Spence, I don’t think you’re understanding him.” The words were out of my mouth before I had the chance to bite my tongue. I was usually good about keeping my opinions to myself but something inside me pressed on.

“I think Mr. uh, your chief of staff has feelings he’s sure you won’t return,” I clarified before biting into my own sandwich.

Vani looked at the man before taking his hand. “You love Spence, don’t you? Oh, Mario, honey, I’m so sorry.” She tried to comfort the man who must have been mortified.

“I just—I didn’t want to fall in love with him, Vanessa. I’d never, ever do anything to hurt either of you. I couldn’t help myself, and then, when Blaire came onto the scene, I knew nothing could ever make you look at me the way you looked at him. I saw you looking at him when we were in Newport News with the Governor. He’s the type of guy you go for, not someone like me,” Mario lamented.

Mario was a handsome guy. Slight of build, with pitch-black hair held perfectly in place by some sort of product. His Hispanic heritage did right by him, and I could tell he was a proud man. He’d been friends with the dark blond god named Spencer Brady for many years, and I could only imagine how heavy that torch must have been to carry alone for so long.

No, a man like Mario might have gotten a little too liquored up and said something out of school to someone like Sean Fitzpatrick, but I had my doubts he would ever betray Spencer, especially not about his sexuality. “I don’t think Mr. uh—what’s your name again?”

I could see I unnerved the man, so I was ready when he yelled, “Who the fuck are you?” And, just like that, the tension in the room evaporated.

I chuckled and stood from the island, walking over and extending my hand to the man. “Nashville Lincoln. You can call me Nash. Pleasure’s all mine.”

“Mario Fernandez. You look familiar.” Mario had a puzzled look on his face.

Vanessa giggled. “He’s very handsome, and he has a welcoming face. That’s probably why you think he’s familiar. We don’t suspect you betrayed us, Mario. Help us find out who did. The only way to get Spence’s name out of the papers is to put someone else’s in its place. Will you do that?”

Fernandez nodded before he stood from the table, tossing his wadded-up napkin onto his empty plate. He turned to me and offered an odd smile. “I think we know each other from somewhere. I’ll figure it out, but thanks for the sandwich.”

I nodded as Vanessa stood and took the man’s arm. “Come on, Mario, I’ll show you out.” She pointed to Spencer’s untouched ham sandwich. “Eat.”

The look on his face made me chuckle, but he picked up the sandwich and took a bite, winking at me. I sat in Vanessa’s abandoned chair and placed a hand on his arm. “He knows me from the DNC fundraiser I attended with Mitzi Shaw in April. He hit up one of the busboys that night, and I walked in on the two of them fucking in the men’s room,” I answered, not pointing out that I could end up being more of a liability to him than Blaire Conner.

Spencer placed his hand over the top of mine, offering a gentle pat. “We weren’t there that night because we took Jay to tour a couple of schools in Chicago. He decided he wanted to be away from home—because two-hundred-and-sixty miles isn’t far enough,” he answered, looking a little heartsick.

“Well, Spencer, you’ve got big shoes to fill. Ever think how much pressure that puts on a kid who’s still trying to find his place in the world?” As if I knew anything about raising a family.

He chuckled. “I think my recent fuck up leveled the playing field, didn’t it?”

Yeah. He made a good point.

CHAPTER 7

SPENCER

I found myself feeling completely comfortable with Nash as we sat at the kitchen table after I finished my sandwich. The only person I’d ever felt that way with was Vanessa. Somehow, I trusted Nash Lincoln, a man I barely knew. I trusted him much more than Blaire, which was strange because I’d known—and fucked—that man for nearly a year.

“So, who else will recognize you from escorting someone powerful?” He’d escorted Mitzi Shaw, the widow of the former Speaker of the House, Albert Shaw. Albert died from pancreatic cancer the first year I took office. He was a good man, but he bit like a rattlesnake if provoked.

Senators and staffers called him Copperhead behind his back, but it wasn’t because his hair was dyed an unnatural rust color to cover the grey. Every party Vani and I attended at the Shaw’s home was pleasant.

The couple was always kind and welcoming, introducing us to the power players in town as if we were family. I’d missed seeing Al’s copper-penny hair in the chamber. He was a good man—until one crossed him.

“I usually just blend into the background. I fetch drinks when needed, and just like a fancy purse, I’m a shiny accessory. People don’t know my name, and they don’t care. You’d be better off not trying to be my friend. It’ll cause you nothing but trouble.” Nash’s concern was written all over his face.

I touched his cheek where there was a short, scruffy beard I was craving to feel rubbed on every square inch of my body. I felt my cock beginning to swell in my jeans, but the sound of footsteps on the stairs reminded me that we weren’t alone. We were in the home I shared with Vanessa, and doing anything with Nash would violate our sacred rule—I didn’t fuck guys in our home.

I moved back from the gorgeous man and began clearing the table, glancing at the clock to see it was just after two in the afternoon. “I, uh, I guess I better…” My phone started ringing in my shirt pocket, so I retrieved it, seeing it was Jay.

“Hello? Jay? Son, are you okay?” After not hearing from him since the middle of August, even when he was at home, I prayed it was the beginning of the two of us rebuilding our relationship.

“I’m okay, Dad. I have a broken arm, but nothing that won’t heal. I’m at Lewis Gale Hospital in town. My car was T-boned in an intersection near Walmart. I was going to get groceries with my roommate, Cole, and some asshole came out of nowhere. Cole has a broken arm and leg on his right side where the truck hit us. Can you get Mom to come down so we can straighten this out with the cops and the insurance? She didn’t answer her phone.”

While I was glad he was okay, my heart deflated a little at his explanation that he called because he couldn’t get Vani on the phone. “Which arm?”

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