Deadline. Metsy Hingle
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you to say. I dated the man for nearly a year and not until I was faced with the prospect of marrying him did I realize that he and I would never work. You, on the other hand, knew it almost from the start.”
Ronnie smiled—the smile of a woman who had lived nearly fifty years and was wiser for it. “That’s because I wasn’t emotionally invested in the relationship. You were. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s that when it comes to the male species, women don’t always see things clearly—especially if our emotions are involved.”
But she should have seen it, Tess thought. Yet, despite the fact that she enjoyed Jonathan’s company and being with him was easy, there had been no real passion between them. It wasn’t until he’d surprised her with an engagement ring for her birthday that she’d been forced to face the truth. She didn’t love him. At least not in the way you should love someone you married. “That still doesn’t make it right. It was unfair of me to lead him on the way I did.”
“Come on, Tess. Johnny’s a big boy. I don’t recall you holding a gun to the man’s head and forcing him to go out with you.”
“I know. But it was still embarrassing for him. He’d told his family and friends, even my grandparents, that he was giving me the ring. They were all expecting an engagement announcement, not a breakup.”
“So he was embarrassed,” Ronnie conceded. “From what I saw of him yesterday, he didn’t appear to be suffering from a broken heart.”
It was true, Tess admitted. Her refusal had appeared to bruise Jonathan’s ego far more than his heart.
“He’ll get over it,” Ronnie assured her.
Tess had no doubt that he would. Jonathan knew what he wanted—a dutiful wife whose dreams and desires mirrored his own—which was to see himself in the White House someday. But that woman wasn’t her. It could never be her because she had her own dreams, her own desires, and she had no intention of abandoning them. Nor did she want to be with a man who would expect her to do so. “Still, I can’t help wishing I hadn’t let things reach that point.”
“Did it ever occur to you that maybe the reason you let things reach that point was because you knew it’s what the senator wanted?”
“It wasn’t my grandfather’s mistake. It was mine.” Although the senator had introduced her to Jonathan and hadn’t hidden the fact that he’d welcome the up-and-coming attorney as a grandson-in-law, he hadn’t forced her to go out with the man. “As you pointed out, no one held a gun to his head and forced him to go out with me.”
“So I take it the senator isn’t giving you grief for breaking up with golden boy?”
“He’s not happy about it, but he’s accepted it,” Tess replied. And she hoped that was true. Her grandfather had been furious with her over her decision to end things with Jonathan. If there was one thing she’d learned in the years since she’d come to D.C. as a four-year-old to live with him and her grandmother, it was that her grandfather did not like it when things didn’t go according to his plan—be it on Capitol Hill or in his family. Her turning down Jonathan’s proposal was not part of his plan. But marrying the man was not part of her own plan.
“So no more schemes by the senator to throw you and Johnny together?”
“I made it clear to my grandfather that I’m not going to change my mind,” Tess informed her. The final straw had occurred ten days ago when she’d arrived for her weekly dinner with her grandparents and had been advised that Jonathan would be joining them. Her grandmother had been clearly distressed by the senator’s announcement, but Tess had been furious with him for, once again, trying to run her life. As a result, she had left the restaurant, leaving him to explain her absence to Jonathan.
“I can imagine how that went over. I got the impression at that charity dinner last month that the senator had earmarked Johnny boy as his future grandson-in-law.”
“He may have, but it wasn’t his decision to make. It was mine, which is what I told him.” The day after the scene in the restaurant, she’d threatened to sever all contact with her grandfather if he continued to interfere in her personal life.
Ronnie arched one perfectly groomed eyebrow. “And what was the senator’s response to that?”
“Let’s just say, he wasn’t thrilled with my decision.” The truth was, she and her grandfather had barely spoken since that night. “And I’d really like to drop the subject.”
“Sure,” Ronnie told her as she slathered butter on another cracker. She paused, looked up at Tess. “So if it’s not the senator or Johnny causing you to lose your beauty sleep, what or who is?”
“Ronnie,” Tess said, making no attempt to hide her exasperation.
“Two chicken specials,” the waitress declared and Tess was grateful for the interruption. After the young woman removed the salad plate, she placed the plate of grilled chicken with a rice pilaf in front of Ronnie. She paused at the sight of Tess’s soup, which had barely been touched. “Something wrong with the soup?”
“No. It’s fine, but I’ve had enough. You can take it,” Tess told her.
She added the soup plate and cup to her tray and promptly served Tess her own plate of chicken. “You ladies let me know if you need anything else,” the woman declared and hustled off in the direction of the kitchen.
“This looks good,” Tess said as she picked up her fork.
“If that’s your subtle way of ignoring my question, you should know me well enough by now to realize that I’m not going to stop hounding you until you tell me what’s wrong.” When she said nothing, Ronnie asked, “Is it work, Tess? I know sticking you with Kip on that last assignment wasn’t fair, but I didn’t have a choice. The jerk’s uncle wields a lot of power around here.”
“It doesn’t have anything to do with work. It’s personal.”
Ronnie paused, and a concerned look came into her hazel eyes. “All right, Tess. I’ll back off. But as your friend, I have to tell you that I’m worried about you. I’ve never seen you this stressed out before—not even when all that crap was going on about your father’s suicide. Just so you know, if you need to talk, I’m here.”
“Thanks, Ronnie. I appreciate it.” Yet Tess wasn’t at all sure she wanted to share with anyone the thoughts that had been running through her head since she’d received that phone call. But mostly, she wasn’t sure whether she wanted to voice aloud what had been really troubling her—the idea that perhaps someone other than Jody Burns might have been responsible for her mother’s murder.
Chapter Two
“I’m so glad you called,” Elizabeth Abbott said that Saturday morning when she greeted Tess at the front door of the elder Abbotts’ town house. “I do hate it so when you and your grandfather are at odds.”
“I know, Grams,” Tess said as she returned her hug. She drew back a fraction. “And I’m sorry that you’re the one who always gets caught in the cross fire.”
Her grandmother reached up and brushed the hair back from Tess’s face. “Don’t worry about me, dear. I’m a lot stronger than you think.”
“I’ve never doubted your strength,” Tess told her and she meant it. Her grandmother was a strong woman in her own way, having handled the loss of her only child, battled breast cancer and remained married to a strong-willed man like Senator Theodore Abbott for more than fifty years. “But sometimes I don’t understand how you can put up with Grandfather when he gets in one of his moods.”
“By one of his moods, I take you mean his being out of sorts because things haven’t gone as he planned?” her grandmother asked, a twinkle in her blue eyes as the two of them headed toward the breakfast room.
“Yes,”