Page 63 of The Senator

SPENCER

Nash and I had picked an apartment in downtown DC on Mount Vernon Street. It was a new building, which was great for us—no previous residents and a fresh place for us to begin our life together. We’d signed the lease on December 30 with a move-in date of January 3, the day after the interview with Caroline Bering-Turner aired.

On advice from Sean, I hadn’t been there when his friend, Ingrid Mohr, sat down with Caroline, but he sent me the unedited cut, and Nash and I watched it together. The woman didn’t hold back anything.

At the end of the interview, I felt wonderfully vindicated and couldn’t wait for Senator Turner to see it. I knew the networks would be clambering for his response after the piece aired on NBS’s Sunday morning show, and the old goat wouldn’t know what the fuck hit him. I wished him the best of luck.

“How much longer? I could use a bottle of water.” Nash had been reading through the contract he was going to sign with Naomi Chu, and I’d been daydreaming.

It was New Year’s Day, and we were driving down to Portsmouth, Virginia. I’d vowed to myself that I would rid myself of the burden of being angry with my parents over what they did to me, years ago and now. I was going to confront them about outing me and tell them goodbye forever.

I took the exit ramp that led to the gated community where my parents’ large home was located. I was dreading the quarrel, but it was something I should have done a long time ago. I’d let them bully me my whole life, and it was time I stood up for myself.

There was a convenience store on the right side of the street, so I pulled into the parking lot. Nash unbuckled his seat belt and turned to me. “You want anything?”

I smirked. “For this to be over and for you to give me road head.”

“I see a future where both things can happen.” He laughed as he went into the store. My dick and I contemplated the idea of road head, and we were both on board.

Slowing the SUV, I flipped the blinker on to make the left into my parents’ circle drive. The house was ostentatious by anyone’s tastes, looking far too much like a plantation than a home.

When I stopped near the wraparound front porch, I shut off the motor and turned to Nash. “Don’t be offended by anything you hear them say. They are bigoted people whose minds are stuck in the 1950s, and remember I love you. You don’t have to come inside.”

We’d argued about it for most of the drive, the prudence of Nash coming inside with me to witness the showdown. “As I’ve said for the last three-and-a-half hours, I want to be there to support you. If you believe they’ll say something you’d rather I not hear, then I won’t go in, but I’m worried about you going in there alone, Spencer.” His love for me solidified my resolve.

“Okay. Let’s go in.” We both hopped out and met in front of the SUV.

I took Nash in my arms. “Thank you. You’re my new hero.” I gently kissed his lips and took his hand, leading him to the large brick home with the stone front porch. I rang the bell and took one more deep breath.

When the door opened, I was surprised to see my mother standing in front of me instead of the housekeeper, Matilda. Her bright smile quickly shifted to the frown I was more used to seeing. “What do you want Spencer?”

Nash’s hand slowly tried to slip from mine, but I grasped it tighter. “I wanted to update you on what’s going on in my life. Is Dad home?” No use telling it twice or leaving things to Hillary Brady’s interpretation.

“Your father is on a conference call, and we’re expecting guests for lunch. What do you want, Spencer.”

Much to my surprise, Nash reached up and pressed the doorbell a dozen times in rapid-fire succession. Matilda came running into the hallway, and my father stomped in right behind her.

I turned to Nash. “Thank you, my love.” He winked.

Now that the gang was all there, I stared at my mother. “Aren’t you going to let me in? Or do you want the neighbors to hear your dirty laundry?”

“For god’s sake, Hillary, move.” Dad stared at me. “You’ve got five minutes.”

“I’ve worked with less time before.” Nash and I stepped inside, and I closed the door. They hadn’t invited us to sit down, but I wasn’t surprised.

“Okay, first things first. Vanessa and I are getting divorced. She’s already moved to New York, and we’re moving to DC in a few days. We’re selling the house in Great Falls. Neither of us need all that space.” Their faces showed no response, leading me to believe they already knew. I’d have been a fool if I didn’t think my father had spies all over the metro area.

“I thought we made it clear to you that we didn’t care what happened to you after the election.” My dad was a son of a bitch.

“Yes, you did, but you didn’t tell me it was because you conspired with someone on my own staff to out me and leak the story to the press before the election.” There’s the surprise I wanted to see!

“Wha— Wha— How dare you accuse us of something of the sort. No one was more shocked to see those pictures than we were,” my father blustered indignantly. Mom said nothing, and Matilda reached behind her and untied her apron.

“I bet. For what you paid Gregor Jablonowski, he should have taken better shots. You almost couldn’t tell it was Blaire Conner I was fucking at the time.” Mom’s gasp at my use of the f-word was comical. Nash chuckled quietly next to me.

Matilda turned to my mother, her eyes narrowed in anger. “What did you do to your only child?”

“This is none of your business.” The haughty nod of my mother’s head almost had me laughing.

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