Page 57 of Space Oddities

“Come, come, let’s get out of this crowd, shall we?” He ushers us past the few remaining loiterers to a small sitting room off the Ritz Carlton’s lobby. The door closes behind us, shutting out the conversations still echoing in the lobby. Senator Kincaid waves toward the chairs. “Let’s sit, shall we?”

Feeling unsettled, I lower myself down on the upholstered chair, sitting primly on the edge of the seat, legs tilted, ankles crossed. I may not have attended finishing school like those girls on the right side of the tracks, but I’ve people watched enough to imitate.

The senator waits until his wife and I are seated before following suit, hiking his pants up an inch at the knees before sitting. “So, Trish.” He crosses one leg over his knee, revealing navy dress socks. “Where are you from?”

“You said Georgia, didn’t you dear?” Ian’s mom is looking down, smoothing the lap of her crimson gown, so I can’t tell if she’s talking to Ian or her husband.

“Dear” must mean Ian, because he answers. “Yes. I did.”

“A red state.” The senator nods. “But it’s nearly always cut down the middle come the larger elections.” One eyebrow raised, he smiles at me. “How do you vote?”

“Let’s not get into that,” Ian cuts in, his tone oddly harsh in response to his father’s teasing one.

“Known for peaches, isn’t it?” Mrs. Kincaid asks, her fingers fluttering over her pearl necklace, still not making eye contact with anyone. She and her husband look like the ultimate political couple, with the navy of the senator’s tux and the red of her gown screaming pure Americana.

“Yes, ma’am.” I smile at the attractive older woman. “None sweeter.”

“Ian always did love peach pie,” Ian’s father says in a low voice. His head is turned away to wave at someone, so I can’t tell if that was a euphemism or not.

A glance at Ian’s narrowed eyes makes me think he doesn’t know either.

A blond woman in a black gown holding a clipboard steps into the room. “Evening, everyone.”

Ian stiffens.

“Ah, Gale. There you are.” Senator Kincaid stands. “Everything set?”

“Yes, sir.” Gale steps up very close to the senator, and my gaze slides to Mrs. Kincaid as she also rises. But she’s once again focused on smoothing out her gown. “The photographer is ready.”

“Is this the photo op you mentioned on the phone?” Ian asks, standing. He holds out his hand to me, pulling me to his side.

Gale nods. “Your father’s opponent in this race is running on family values. We need to get an updated family photograph of our own circulating.”

Ian’s jaw clenches.

“What better time than when we’re all dressed up, eh?” Ian’s father adds, either oblivious or ignoring the mounting tension.

“We’ll head around the crowd to the room we have set up for the private photographer.” Gale turns to me. “I’ll have you escorted to the ballroom, Ms. Garrett.”

“She comes with me.” Ian’s voice is as unyielding as his jaw.

“Nonsense.” The senator claps Ian hard on the back. Ian doesn’t budge. “It’s a family portrait, after all.” The smile Ian’s father throws me is the perfect mixture of charm and polite inquiry. “Surely you understand, Trish?”

At the mention of photographers, I’d started to feel panic throb in my gut. “Yes. Of course.” Once more I try to pull my arm from Ian’s, and once more he doesn’t let go.

His father gives Mrs. Kincaid an unreadable look, but it sets her into action. She places a hand on her son’s shoulder, her voice pleading. “Wouldn’t it be nice to have an updated family portrait, dear?”

I see Ian’s resolve falter in the face of his mother, her blue eyes very much like his own. Thankfully, this time when I tug back, he lets me go. I definitelydon’twant my picture circulated all over the place. But the movement pulls his gaze to me, and he opens his mouth to say something. But I speak first.

“It’s fine, really.” I give him my brightest smile, though I’m sure it isn’t as picture-worthy as the senator’s.

Ian’s nostrils flare, and I can tell he wants to argue, but he nods in agreement.

“Great.” Gale’s voice sounds bored. She talks into her wrist at the small wire I’m only now seeing. “Jonathan, please see Miss Garrett inside.”

A tall, rather imposing man steps into the room. Instinctively I step back.

“Who are you?” Ian steps between me and the tall man.

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