Page 21 of The Senator

“Why would someone want to hurt me? Why did they feel it was necessary to humiliate me and my friend? To what end? What did they gain?” I was thinking out loud again.

Nash moved closer to me, sitting up and staring at me. “Who are your enemies? Who are your friends? Usually, the guilty party comes from one of those camps.”

I looked at him for a moment as his words sunk in. I still wasn’t entirely satisfied that Mario had nothing to do with it. If he was, as had been alleged, in love with me, was that motive enough for him to ruin me and Blaire in the process? Was his jealousy so blinding he thought he could sweep in and save me after destroying my life?

“I went to the party to confront him. I don’t know Fitzpatrick well enough to be invited to his birthday party, really. He was more of an acquaintance than a friend, but now, I’m indebted to him. Wonder if that was his ploy?”

“My boss at the escort service says nobody does anything in DC without calculating the pros and cons. If your friend outed you, what was he looking to gain, and if Sean set you up, wouldn’t that make him look like a big fucking slimeball in the LGBTQ community he claims to fight for? Outing people is a big no-no, isn’t it?” Nash had a point there.

“Your boss is a smart person. Nobody does a damn thing in DC without there being a price. What’s yours?” If he knew the law of the concrete jungle, then he was angling for something. Better to know the price upfront.

Nash laughed loudly, tossing his head back in the process. “Oh, you wanna talk money now?” It was a challenge, and as much as I wanted to accept it, my head was too jumbled to do anything justice.

“No. Look, you don’t have to stay. I mean, I can pay you for your time. I’d imagine your boss wants his cut anyway.”

“My boss is a woman, and you’re not a trick. You and Vani are my friends, and I always look out for friends. I don’t have that many.”

“A woman? Wow. There was a woman back in the seventies or eighties who operated an escort service in Manhattan. Her family prided itself on being blue bloods who claimed to be able to trace her lineage all the way back to the Mayflower. Her escort service made money hand over fist, from what the gossip mill churned out. I’ve heard the story of how all the power brokers on Wall Street and Capitol Hill were scared shitless that their names would be released as clients. The woman was arrested, if the story is true, and ended up writing a book about her experiences in the business.”

I had no idea why that story stuck with me, but I vaguely remembered my mother asking my father if she should be worried about hearing his name as the trial progressed. Dad made a lot of trips to New York for cases. I had to wonder if he’d cheated on my mom. Was that the part of my scandal that hit home the most for her? Could that be the reason my parents turned their backs on me?

“Well, I’m not sure about her genealogy, but she let it slip once that she’s married to a power player in DC. She used it as a threat against another escort that if he didn’t fall in line and do as his john asked, she’d make sure he got blackballed in town, and he’d never get a job working on the Hill. I overheard her take the call when she was showing me the apartment I sublet from her.” Of course, Nash’s comments intrigued the hell out of me.

“Can I ask her name? I’ve never had anyone take me into the inner circle where names are passed around.” I was joking but it was true. I hadn’t been around long enough to be trusted by the senior senators. That club was elite. I wouldn’t have been invited until John Buford, the senior senator for the Commonwealth, retired, died, or was defeated. Instead, it was me who was defeated.

“Caroline Bering is the name on my paycheck, but she has another name tacked on the end that she doesn’t use for business,” Nash answered, eyes closed as if in thought.

I racked my brain, but I knew no one named Bering who would be a power player in town. It didn’t mean they didn’t exist. It just meant I didn’t know them.

“Well, anyway, I don’t know her. I’m gonna take a shower unless you want to go first.” I got up and opened my duffel bag to pull out some pajamas and a toiletry kit.

“No, go ahead. Mind if I check the tube?” Nash picked up the television remote from the table. I nodded before I headed for the bathroom.

“Oh, Spence? Caroline’s last name is hyphenated. I forgot about that. Turner. Caroline Bering-Turner,” he added, stopping me in my tracks.

CHAPTER 10

NASH

The name was barely out of my mouth before Spencer stomped back from the bathroom to my side of the bed, stubbing his toe on the bed frame. He jumped around, cursing for a minute, before sitting next to me. “Are you joking?”

I dropped the remote onto the mattress. “Why would I joke about that?” Seemed like a trivial detail to me.

“Caroline Bering-Turner is married to Senator Frank Turner. He’s the senior senator from Georgia. I have a history with him.” Spencer’s announcement had me cocking an eyebrow at him.

“Not like that. I went against him during a vote a few months ago, and he’s not one to forget. I wonder if he’s behind all this bullshit?” I knew he wasn’t asking me. Nevertheless, I wanted to help him.

“Uh, I could do some poking around with Caroline. If I get a few cocktails in her, she gets loose lips—and her lips want to wrap around my cock. She’s been with most of the guys and some of the girls who work for her, but not me. I don’t believe in mixing business with pleasure.”

“Wait, you wouldn’t— No, I can’t ask you to sleep with her to get any information. That’s unethical.” Spencer’s outburst made me want to laugh.

Ethics? He was worried about ethics? Someone had totally fucked him over and torpedoed his career, and he was worried about me doing something unethical to get information for him? Could he be for real?

“I don’t know shit about ethics, okay? I know street justice, and if someone fucks with someone I c-c… Someone who doesn’t deserve it, then they have earned whatever retribution is headed their way.”

Was I going to say I cared about him? How the fuck could I care about him when I didn’t know him.

No attachments. No regrets.

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