couldn’t she let it go? Why did she continue to force the issue? More and more, he’d begun to resent her. She’d caused him to lose control, caused him to hit her, caused him to act like the one man he despised most in the world, Edmund. And for that he’d
Damn, he thought. He needed some relaxation time. The election was days away, and he’d been working his ass off. Warner grabbed his coat.
“I’ve got to go, baby. I’m sorry.” He kissed Cindy quickly.
“We aren’t done.” She stretched out on the couch, letting the cashmere blanket fall away, leaving her naked.
“I don’t have time.”
“You could make it quick.” She smiled.
“I’m sorry if I seemed distracted.”
“Even distracted you’re good.”
Warner stared down at the chessboard. “All right. But if I lose, it’s because you rushed me.”
“Oh, no, you don’t. This is just one move. I’ll concede no such thing.”
Warner laughed. He slid his bishop across the board. “Check.”
She frowned. “Well, at least I have some time to think of a response.”
He fished the keys out of his coat pocket, opened the car door, and slipped into the driver’s seat. Damn it! Carolyn and Edmund were determined to blow everything he did out of proportion. Of course, Edmund only discussed politics with him.
Since the day of his mother’s suicide, Edmund only spoke to Warner when absolutely necessary, leaving a bewildered and lost seven-year-old boy to cope. With that rejection Warner’s guilt grew. He’d spent years believing he’d caused his mother’s death. And in a way, he had.
The last time he’d heard his mother’s voice, she’d been crying. Years of pain flooded Warner when he thought of that night.
Squatting at the top of the stairs, in his pajamas, Warner had pressed his seven-year-old face between two balusters and listened to the voices of his parents. Edmund raged. His mother sobbed. Something shattered against a wall. Then he’d heard a smack. His mother fell in the doorway of the library across the hall. He’d wanted to run to her, to save her, but fear kept him frozen.
Edmund liked to hit, and Warner knew he would not be spared if he challenged his father. Besides, his mother had made him promise that he’d stay away whenever Edmund was angry.
Edmund’s voice grew louder, clearer. “You cheating bitch.” Another smack.
Warner flinched, then clenched his eyes shut. His small hands gripped the balusters.
“I know why you coddle the boy so much, and keep him from me. He’s a bastard. A bastard you’re going to pay for.”
“No, no.” His mother voice was soft and pleading.
“When were you going to tell me I’m not his father?”
Warner’s eyes flew open.
“Leave him out of this.” his mother sobbed. “It’s not his fault.”
“Yes, it is…”
Warner felt hands on his shoulders. Mary, their live-in housekeeper, pulled him from the stairs, and returned him to his bedroom. He lay awake the rest of the night, his sheets pulled up under his chin.
The next morning, Warner learned that his mother was dead. Suicide, people whispered, and he heard them.
The next week, he was shipped off to boarding school.
Warner found refuge within himself. Alone. He excelled in school. But his accomplishments, both academic and athletic, seemed only to further incense Edmund.
As a young man. Warner finally understood why his mother had died and why Edmund had rejected him. Warner was the product of an adulterous affair – his mother’s affair. He’d confirmed this by locating Mary, who’d worked for his family for years until that ugly night. The only servant in the house during the fight, she’d been dismissed the next day.
Not even Carolyn knew that Edmund wasn’t Warner’s biological father. His election to the senate hadn’t been enough to heal Warner’s wounds. And after all these years, Warner wasn’t sure why he cared or why he even tried to please Edmund Lane. He’d never know the identity of his biological father, and he’d never have the love of the man who raised him.
FOURTEEN
Election eve. Carolyn sipped a mug of herbal tea before she dressed for her campaign appearance. She sank down into the sofa in the living room of their mansion. Worried that they were about to lose everything they had worked so hard to achieve, she silently cursed Wainer.
Carolyn gazed out the window, watching a rainstorm brew in the distance. A lightning flash startled her, and she shivered involuntarily. She got up and closed the blinds.
She thought about the most recent poll, which showed a close race between Warner and Jackson Green. Damn Warner and his ego. He’d ignored her warnings about the airport project, raising taxes, and his vote to cut spending in education. Now these issues threatened his political career.
Carolyn knew that if their relationship were still whole, he might have listened to her. Perhaps she should have asked Edmund to speak to Warner about working on their marriage. No, she thought, Warner would never forgive her for dragging his father into his personal affairs. Unconsciously her fingertips brushed her cheek. The bruise was gone, but the emotional scar remained.
She gave a short, bitter laugh, thinking of the circumstances that had all but destroyed their marriage. What difference would it have made if she had spoken to Edmund? It wasn’t as if Warner would ever forgive her, anyway.
The truth, however, was that she had no intention of ever subjugating her self to Edmund Lane again. Introduced to Edmund by a law school professor, Carolyn welcomed his willingness to act as her mentor in her pursuit of an internship clerking for the Missouri State Supreme Court. Due to her inexperience and naivete, she mistook Edmund’s manipulation for kindness and fell for his polished charm. Now, she believed, he was the devil incarnate. He would always be a tom cat.
She stopped her train of thought. Warner and the election had to take precedence over everything right now. She didn’t have time for self-pity. She and Warner had covered a lot of ground campaigning, but recently Warner’s enthusiasm and conviction were being perceived as over-confidence. This puzzled Carolyn, because Warner’s ability for gauging an audience’s response to him was a trait that he had perfected.
He’d also developed a habit of disappearing after his speeches. One newspaper even coined him the “invisible incumbent.” She’d told him that he needed to stay longer and shake hands, make people feel they were a part of the action and essential to his success. Hell, Carolyn thought, Warner knew this stuff. Political savvy ran in his veins. Why was he so intent on sabotaging himself now?
She suspected the answer had something to do with Cindy. A life without politics cleared the way for a divorce and marriage to his mistress.
Lightning flashed through the closed blind, creating jagged images on the wall. Feeling a chill, Carolyn walked over and turned up the heater. The warmth it produced didn’t help. She doubted that anything would be able to dispel her sense of impending doom.
Warner strolled through the lobby of the hotel closest to campaign headquarters, a wide smile on his face. He
