Page 5 of The Senator

“I’m sorry, Vani. I didn’t mean to come between you and your mother. I swear, I won’t go anywhere near her, but you and Jay should go. He’ll be going back to Tech after the holiday anyway, and he and Velma always got along. I’ll be fine.

“I’m going to catch some sleep. I need to go into the office later. I’m sure the troops are nervous. Why don’t you go back to bed, too?” I knew she had a showing at eight, but she could sleep for a couple more hours. Hell, even if she didn’t, she’d still look fresh as a daisy when she went to meet her clients.

“How was Blaire?” Vanessa didn’t look up.

I sighed. I didn’t want to discuss it, but she deserved answers. “NBS fired him. Somehow, his boss got pictures of the two of us in Antigua and held onto them until last night. Blaire didn’t really give a reason why, but he asked something interesting. ‘Who followed you to Antigua?’ And it made me wonder if I really was followed.

“I only told my travel plans to you, Mario, and Blaire. You didn’t mention to anyone that I was going on vacation, did you?”

The look in Vanessa’s eyes was one of pure venom, and I’d never seen it before in all the years we’d been married. “Are you asking me if I had you followed, Spencer? After everything we’ve been through, do you think I’m behind the complete chaotic disaster our lives have become? My client canceled the showing this morning and pulled the listing from me. My boss called to tell me he was sorry you lost and suggested I take some time off to get my private life in order. He offered me the name of a good divorce lawyer and told me to call him after the first of the year.” Clearly, that was why she was up—she hadn’t been to bed.

Guilt swamped me again. What a shitstorm! I rose from my chair and walked around the table, lowering myself to my knees before taking her hands in mine. “I cannot tell you how sorry I am this whole thing happened, dear one. I never meant to hurt you, and I’m not accusing you of anything.” I kissed her palms and rested my head against them.

I was so fucking tired of it. Going to work since the scandal came out had been a goddamn trip to hell for me. The whispers. The nasty looks like I was shit on the bottom of their shoes. I endured it with a smile and limited my interactions with others, not yet ready to crawl into a hole and die.

Oh, it was fucking tempting to disappear, but I was made of stronger stuff than that, or so I believed until that moment as I sobbed into Vanessa’s hands.

“Oh, Spence, I’m sorry this happened. We’ve had a life we both loved, you living your way, and me living mine, both of us supporting Jay in everything he did. We didn’t hurt anyone. We love each other, and for someone to try to tear you down, it hurts me as well.” She bent over and kissed the back of my head, crying along with me.

I’d been holding it inside since the news broke about the events in Antigua, but I wondered how long Vanessa had been hiding her feelings on the matter. We cried for a long time, mourning the happy life we’d lost that seemed to be free-falling and sucking us down. Sadly, I didn’t know how to stop it.

The term lame duck was apt for the way I was treated on the Hill after my loss. I still owed my constituents the work they’d hired me to do when they voted me into office, and I was going to give them all the bang for the buck I could muster.

Vanessa and I had been in a holding pattern regarding the future since we’d lost the election, but we had been combing through the house to discard things we’d held onto for too long as we prepared the house to sell. I’d finally convinced her to consider filing for divorce, but she refused to kick me out, for which I was secretly grateful. Regardless of the outcome, we agreed we didn’t need the two-story house in Great Falls.

Jay had left the day after the election to go back to school, skillfully avoiding any conversations with me. I was relieved to have dodged his questions for a little longer, but thankfully, he had started calling Vani to talk to her.

Mario was running the Senate office, notifying me when it was time for a vote in the chamber. One good thing about the clusterfuck was that I could finally vote my conscience instead of what my party expected of me. There was no one trying to make a deal with me to support their piece of legislation in exchange for supporting something I was trying to do. I was political poison—not surprisingly.

Everything I’d recently submitted to the Speaker’s Office for consideration had miraculously disappeared, and that was that. I was the lamest duck on the pond.

It was the week before we adjourned for the holidays—my last week as one of the senators from Virginia, and I was busy cleaning out my office, sending records to the archives and shredding anything personal I found, which wasn’t much.

I had ordered boxes to pack my things so I could send them to the house, which I was expecting at any moment, so when there was a knock on the door after regular office hours, I called out, “It’s open.”

I glanced up to see one of my former college interns standing in the doorway, and I was shocked. Clearly, she didn’t know not to be seen talking to me. It would be a detriment to any career aspirations she might have.

“Miss Renfro, what can I do for you?” The young woman’s familiar smile was a comfort in the strangest way.

Ava Renfro was a beautiful young woman. She’d interned for me a few years earlier, and she was now working for the Congressional Liaison’s Office of the Library of Congress, or so I thought. I’d given her a glowing recommendation when I was contacted by one of the recruiters, and I had heard through the grapevine she was highly valued in her job.

“Senator Brady, sir, I wanted to pass along how sorry I was that you lost the election. I voted for you, as did my folks.” It was kind of her to say.

Ava lived in Arlington and had graduated near the top of her class at George Washington University. I’d met her folks once when Vani and I went to dinner at a Thai place in Arlington Forest, and the Renfros were waiting for a table. They seemed like nice WASPs, so it was surprising they voted for the newly outed gay senator from Virginia.

“I appreciate it, and I’m sorry I let all of you down. Please, take a seat and tell me how you’re doing.” I rose from my seat and walked around the desk, moving the guest chair so I could face her.

Ava sat, a nervous smile on her face. “I’m doing well, sir. I’m leaving the Library of Congress at the end of the year to work for Fitzpatrick and Associates.” I nodded, not surprised by the news at all.

Sean Fitzpatrick was a self-made success story in the tech world before selling his dating app—Love Under the Rainbow—to one of the big social media conglomerates. He became an advocate and lobbyist on behalf of the LGBTQ+ community to push for equal rights and protections afforded to every American except for those under the rainbow.

Sean had taken DC by storm, and he was well liked by folks on both sides of the aisle. I’d met with him many times over my years in the Senate, and he’d been a staunch supporter of my campaigns—even the one I’d recently lost.

I was concerned by Ava’s visit, remembering Sean hadn’t reached out to me since the election. Since I’d been caught having a gay tryst with a reporter—a reporter I’d met at a party he’d hosted—the guy was probably cutting his ties with me because of the scandal, as he should to maintain his credibility. God knew, I’d lost all of mine.

“Oh, that’s great. Sean’s a really nice guy and whip smart. I’m sure you’ll learn a lot from him and be happy there.”

“Sean asked me to drop by to give you this.” She offered an envelope with Senator and Mrs. Brady scrawled across the front in fancy calligraphy. Before I could open it, she spoke again. “He asks that you and your wife come to his birthday party next Monday night. He wants to speak with you in person.” My interest was piqued.

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