Free Someone To Believe In by Kathryn Shay

and I had a very civil, if
spirited discussion. We voiced our differences and made some
headway in understanding each other, I think.”
    When their time was up, the president stepped
forward and thanked Clay. He was proud of himself that he hadn’t
been blindsided by Lawson. He felt like he could scale mountains
when he saw the approval on Jon’s face.
    They were at a reception in the president’s
residence before he got to talk to his son alone. “So what did you
think, Jon?”
    “You did good, Dad.” He looked at Clay
without a trace of animosity. “I’m shocked as hell the Street Angel
let you visit her place.”
    What was I thinking, letting you come here?
It hasn’t helped.
    “It was an interesting night.”
    Jon nodded across the room. Again the
approval. “He didn’t throw you, Dad.”
    “No.”
    “I agree with his politics more than yours,
but you held your own.”
    “Thanks, son. That means a lot to me. So, are
we on tomorrow, for dinner and a show in the city?”
    “Yeah, sure.”
    A pretty blonde approached them and after Jon
introduced her, they stepped away; right behind them, a political
science professor came up to Clay. As Clay listened to the guy, his
gaze strayed to Lawson, and his mind to Bailey O’Neil.
    He remembered the clear blue of her eyes, how
she looked in his coat, how she trembled in his arms when he tried
to shield her with his body. He remembered how she ate the ice
cream with relish, smiled at her son’s picture, her warmth and
affection for her coworkers.
    When the man left, Clay heard behind him,
“Hello, Senator, how’s it going?”
    Turning around, Clay drew in a breath. “Good,
Lawson.” He shook the extended hand and somebody snapped a
picture.
    Lawson said, “The Sun ’s here.”
    “Hmm.”
    “So you toured ESCAPE. Bailey didn’t tell
me.”
    “No?”
    “I wonder why.”
    “I wouldn’t know.”
    Lawson’s expression was smug. “She’s working
on my campaign, you know.”
    “So I heard.” Clay set his drink down. “Give
her my best when you see her. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to
spend some time with my son. I don’t see him enough.”
    “I was under the impression you two didn’t
get along.”
    “How on earth would you come to that
conclusion?”
    “Maybe because he showed up at a meeting I
held to see who was interested in volunteering to work for my
election to the Senate.”
     
     
    BAILEY SMILED ACROSS the room at her
son, her niece, and her brother. Amid little ones running around
and the noisy chatter of both parents and kids, she watched Rory
and Aidan try on the Where the Wild Things
Are costumes. Kathleen studied them from the
sidelines. Paddy’s daughter, six, always thought before she did
anything. Her older brothers said she was scoping out the
situation. Bailey and Aidan had taken both kids into the city to
the Strong Museum for this special exhibit on her favorite book.
Maurice Sendak was her favorite children’s book author.
    Clayton Wainwright would probably know where
he lived.
    Damn, that man kept creeping into her
thoughts. She could still picture him jumping in front of her when
he thought she was in danger...eating ice cream with sumptuous
delight...the twinkle in his eyes when he talked about Susan
Sarandon.
    In an attempt to get him out of her mind, she
picked up the newspaper lying on the bench beside her. What the
hell? There he was. Oh, my God, shaking hands with Eric Lawson?
    Is it his politics you support or are you
sleeping with him?
    How dare he ask her that! It was rude and
insulting. He was overbearing, controlling—and had years of
practice at it. Powerful men were always that way. Not her taste at
all in the opposite sex.
    She scanned the article. He’d been giving a
speech at Bard. For some reason, she hoped it went well with his
son. She couldn’t believe that Jon Wainwright had gone to a rally
for a man who wanted to run against Jon’s own father. To her, the
betrayal of family was