Chapter Twenty-Two

Gavin

I hurry out of the conference room and back to my office. My last meeting ran late and I still have to send out some emails before I go. It's only three but I need to get out of here and get home. The restaurant opening is tonight and I promised Kate I'd be there early to greet people. It's a soft opening, meaning it's a practice run with only invited guests, mostly friends and family and some of the investors.

"Did you send me a copy?" Brad asks as he stops at my office door.

"No," I say, trying to wake up my laptop. It always takes forever to get going. "I will before I leave."

"I also need the budget," he says.

"Yeah, I can't get that to you today. It'll have to be first thing tomorrow."

"It can't wait. I can't move forward until I have a budget and I need to hire the design firm today in order to stay on schedule."

"They already know they're hired so just get them started and we'll get them a contract tomorrow."

"Jett doesn't want people working without a contract. Just give me a number to put in there and I'll get them the contract today."

"I don't have a number," I say as I type my password in. The screen lights up and my eyes scan over all the little folder icons as I try to find the one that has the budget. "Jett said the original bid was too much so I have to readjust the budget to see what we can cut. But I don't have time to do that today."

"It's only three. You have plenty of time."

"Not today. I have to leave in a few minutes. Kate's restaurant opening is tonight."

"Oh yeah?" He smiles and leans against the door frame. "So how's the place look?"

"Awesome. She did a really great job. So did my grandfather. He did a lot of the renovations himself."

"Have you tried any of the food?"

I chuckle. "Only about a million times. She's been testing her recipes on me since we started dating. She still thinks they're not good enough, but trust me, her food is amazing. It's like diner food but made modern with Kate's own unique spin. You'll have to go there and check it out."

Every time I talk about Kate, I get a huge grin on my face. I'm so freaking proud of her and all that she's accomplished. And she did it in such a short time. Just a few months ago, she was still doing catering for Carol, and now she's got her own restaurant.

Carol. Shit. I almost forgot about her. Tonight's the night when I get that handwriting sample. The past few days, I've been trying not to think about her, putting all my focus on Kate and helping her prepare for the opening. We spent all weekend at the restaurant, finishing up last minute details to get it ready. We were so busy, I didn't even think about Carol.

If she's the woman my dad had an affair with, what do I do? Pretend I don't know? Or do I confront her? The whole point of finding out was to confront her and ask her if she knew what my dad was up to, but now I'm not so sure I want to know.

"Gavin." Jett's deep voice booms in the hallway and he appears behind Brad, his smile even bigger than normal. Brad steps aside and Jett goes past him. "Let's go."

"Go where?" My gut clenches, worried he's about to make me late. I can't be late. I promised Kate I'd be there early, and after all the promises I've broken lately, I can't break another one.

"To meet the vice president," Jett says. "He invited me to have a drink and I'm bringing you with."

"Vice president of what?" I ask.

"The United States." He chuckles. "Who'd you think I was talking about?"

"I wasn't sure. I didn't know the vice president was here."

"He's in town for a speech and I want you to meet him."

"Lucky bastard," Brad mumbles. I glance at him and see a grin on his face.

"I'm sorry, Jett, but I can't," I say. "But I'm sure Brad would like to go."

Brad's in his early thirties and wants to run for office someday. He loves politics. Meeting the vice president would be a dream come true for him.

"I already told him you were coming," Jett says to me. "Now hurry up. We're meeting him in the financial district and it could take awhile to get there with traffic."

"I can't." I get up and go around my desk. "Kate's opening is tonight and I need to leave now. I told her I'd get there early."

"What time's the opening?"

"Six," I blurt out, but then regret telling him the actual time. I should've made it earlier. "But I have to be there at five."

"It's only three. You have plenty of time."

"I need to leave now. I want to get her flowers and I have to change clothes."

"Gavin, this isn't optional. I understand you want to be there for your girlfriend, and you will, but right now, you're going to meet the vice president. I told him you'd be there and I'm not going to have you making me look bad."

"That's not what I'm trying to do. If I knew about this, I would've—"

"I'll tell you what." He puts his hands on his hips, one of his many power moves. "You go with me and meet him and I'll let you skip the drinks. We'll make up some excuse for why you had to leave early." He turns and walks to the door. "Get your things. There's a limo waiting downstairs. I'll meet you down there."

He takes off down the hall.

Shit. I don't have time for this. I wanted to be home at four so I could go pick up the flowers I ordered for Kate. If I go with Jett, it'll put me an hour behind. I'll probably still make it there by five but I'll be rushed and I won't be able to get the flowers.

"You get to meet the fucking VP!" Brad says in a hushed voice as he appears at the door again.

"I'd let you take my place if I could." I search my phone for the number for the floral shop. "Doing this is going to make me late."

"I'm sure Kate won't mind. It's not every day you get to meet the vice president."

"I have to go." I walk past him out the door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

On my way to the elevator, I call the florist and ask her to deliver the flowers directly to the restaurant. I'd rather give them to Kate myself but that's not possible now.

Jett and I meet in the limo. He talks on his phone until right before we get there, then puts his phone away and says, "You're gonna love this guy. He's not at all like you see on TV. He's actually fun in real life. Great sense of humor."

"Jett, I'm flattered that you wanted to bring me here to meet him but can I ask why?"

He grins at me. "You still don't get it."

"Get what?"

He just chuckles and looks up at the driver. "It's that building on the right. Let us off at the first door."

"Get what?" I ask again. "What do you mean?"

Jett ignores me. He has his phone out again and texts someone as the driver pulls over and stops. We get out and go past a line of security into the building. How did I clear security? Did they already do a background check on me? They had to have, but why didn't I know? Why didn't Jett tell me about this?

We go up the elevator to the tenth floor and when we get off, we're taken to a private dining room. Orson Flint, the vice president, is standing there talking to someone. The man leaves when he sees us walk in.

"Jett." Orson shakes his hand. "Good to see you again." He turns to me. "And this must be your protegé."

"Gavin Bishop," I say, introducing myself before Jett can. Not letting you introduce yourself is another one of Jett's power moves and it's one I don't like. I can introduce myself.

"Niles' son," Orson says as he shakes my hand.

"You knew my father?" I ask, surprised. My dad was friends with a lot of politicians but I didn't know he knew the vice president.

"I did, indeed," he says. "We played golf a few times." Orson's smile falls. "I'm very sorry about what happened."

I just nod. Even after all this time, I never know what to say when people mention my dad's death.

"Why don't we have a seat?" Jett says, going over to the leather chairs set up by the bar on the side of the room.

As we sit down, I try to figure out what I'm doing here. Why would Jett bring me here? Why would the vice president want to meet me? None of this makes sense.

Jett and Orson start talking about their golf games. I tune them out, my attention focused on the clock on the wall. It's almost four. I have to get out of here. It's rush hour and traffic's going to be a nightmare. I'll have to skip a cab and take the subway to the train, but with all the stops it'll take forever. And when I finally reach the train, I have a 45-minute ride home. Then I have to drive to the apartment in more rush-hour traffic. Shit.

"Excuse me, but I really need to get going," I say, moving to the edge of my chair.

"He has an event to attend tonight," Jett says to Orson. "Gavin often attends charity events, much like his father did." He turns to me. "Which one is it tonight, Gavin?"

I pause, trying to think of something. I didn't expect Jett to lie like that, but being a politician, I should've known he'd lie.

"It's a fundraiser for the flood victims down south," I say. "My mother organized it. She's having it at her house."

I decided to go with something he couldn't verify so I wouldn't get caught in a lie. Jett shoots me a smile, letting me know I did him proud. I passed his test. Lying on command, a skill he obviously admires. In the short time I've worked with him, I've lost all respect for him. If he wasn't so well connected with people who might get me a job, I'd quit in a heartbeat.

"What time is the event?" Orson asks.

"At six, but I told my mother I'd be there at five to help her set up."

He checks his watch. "It's still early. You can spare a few minutes."

I hold back a sigh and sit back in the chair.

Orson stares at me as he taps his hand on his armrest. "So have you considered running for office someday?"

"Me?" I sit up straighter. "No. I have no interest in running for office." When I see him frowning, I say, "Not that I don't respect those who run for office. I definitely do. It's just not for me."

"And yet you obviously have an interest in it. You majored in political science, correct?"

How much did Jett tell him about me? Or did he get that information from my background check?

"Yes, but I'd like to work behind the scenes, not be a politician myself."

"And why is that?"

I want to say because most politicians are liars and crooks and I don't want to be associated with them, but instead I say, "It's more than a job. It's a commitment. A lifestyle. One that takes you away from your friends and family."

"Being a public servant means making sacrifices. Your father was willing to make those sacrifices, and yet you're not?"

"Vice President Flint, with all due respect, I'd rather not get into this. The bottom line is that I have no desire to be a politician. I think my skills would be better put to use securing grant money or working to get policies changed."

"He's still young," Jett says in a condescending tone. "He doesn't understand how the system works." Jett smiles at me. "I still have a lot to teach him."

What an ass. I want to reach over and punch him but I can't, so I sit quietly in the chair, fighting the urge to get up and walk out.

Orson runs his hand over the lapel of his suit, as if straightening it, even though there isn't a single wrinkle. "I think you should consider it."

"Running for office?" I ask.

"Yes. Obviously, not now. You're too young. But you're not too young to start preparing for it. We have people who could help you. The party is always looking for fresh new faces and you fit the bill perfectly."

Why does he think that? Because of my father? And why would the party want me? I'm registered independent.

"What do you think?" he asks. "You'd be following in your father's footsteps. You'd have the power to truly help people. You'd be able to accomplish all that he couldn't."

How do I respond to that? The vice president of the United States is basically telling me I have to run for office someday. It's not like it's never crossed my mind. In high school I was sure it's what I wanted to do, but as I got older, I realized it wasn't for me.

"I really should be going," I say, getting up.

"Gavin," Jett scolds. "You didn't answer Orson's question."

"Oh. Yes, I'm sorry." I sit back down. "My mind is elsewhere today. As for your question, it would be an honor to follow in my father's footsteps but I'm afraid it's just not for me. My father was much better suited to being a politician. Unfortunately, I'm not cut out for it."

"And why do you think you're not cut out for it?" Orson asks.

I swear, the man never gives up. Why can't he just take no for an answer? Why me and not someone else? There are plenty of other people who would take him up on his offer.

"I'm just not," I say, not able to come up with a reason he'll find acceptable. He's obviously made up his mind, or someone else has and sent Orson here to convince me to agree to it.

"He'll think about," Jett says. "And once he does, I'm sure he'll see the error of his ways." Jett chuckles. "A smart young man like Gavin wouldn't turn down an opportunity like this. You just took him by surprise. Isn't that right, Gavin?"

"Yeah." I grit my teeth as I look at Jett. "I'll think about it. Now may I be excused, please?"

"Certainly," Orson says as he stands up. "Go help your mother with the fundraiser." He smiles. "You're a good young man. And smart. Just like your father. You're going to do well."

I thank him for the compliment and tell him and Jett goodbye, then race out of there, skipping the elevator for the stairs, and finally exit the building. The nearest subway station is blocks from here so I try to hurry down the street but the crowds of people are slowing me down. By the time I reach the subway, it's four-thirty and I'm worried I'll miss my train.

Sure enough, I do. And the next train doesn't leave until five. That means I'll get to my car at quarter to six. I'll have to skip changing clothes and go right to the restaurant. I'll get there at six but that's an hour later than I told Kate.

I call her but she doesn't answer so I leave her a message. Then I text her, Missed the train. Next one doesn't leave until five. Sorry! Be there by six. I promise!

By five, she hasn't returned my call or my text. She's pissed. I told her I'd be there early. I promised her I would. She's nervous about tonight and wanted me there at her side when the doors open. But now I'm not there. I broke my promise. Again.

An announcement comes over the speakers saying the five o'clock train has been closed down for maintenance. It won't be running tonight.

"Shit," I mutter as I search the board for the next train. It doesn't leave until six, which means I won't get to the restaurant until seven. By then, Kate will have made her speech and people will be nearly done with their meals. She's going to kill me for not being there. I want to kill me. I'm so pissed at myself. I should've left the office at noon. Then Jett wouldn't have found me there and I never would've had to go to that meeting with Orson.

At six, I get on the train, which I thought was an express train, but it's not. It keeps stopping, so by the time I get home, it's after seven. I race to my car and speed to the restaurant. I'm hot and sweaty, my clothes are wrinkled, I stink like the subway, and I need to shave. But there's no time to stop at home and clean up.

"Where's Kate?" I ask one of the waiters as I search for her in the restaurant. The place is packed. More people showed up than Kate planned for, which means she's probably even more stressed and needed me here to calm her down.

"She's in the kitchen," he says, before hurrying off to refill water glasses.

"Gavin." My grandpa races up to me. "Where the hell have you been? You should've been here hours ago."

"I know. I got delayed at work and then they cancelled my train and I had to take a later one. How's Kate?"

"She's doing great." He shows off the same proud smile he uses for me. It doesn't surprise me. Kate's become like a granddaughter to him. "She was nervous at first, but as soon as the doors opened, she was calm, collected, a real professional."

So I guess she didn't need me here after all, but she wanted me here. And I wasn't.

"I have to go talk to her." I walk back to the kitchen and find her talking to one of the cooks.

"Kate." I race up to her.

She pretends not to see me and keeps talking to the cook. I wait for her to finish, then follow her as she walks to her office.

"Kate, stop." I hold her arm.

She whips around. "What?"

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I tried to get here early. I swear I did, but..." I can't explain myself because nothing I say will be good enough. Given my job and who I work for, I shouldn't have even attempted to go in the office today. Something always comes up and makes me late and I knew that and yet I still went into the office when I should have spent the whole day with Kate. Even if she was running around the kitchen all day, I still should've been here, offering help and support and whatever else she needed.

"But what?" she asks. "What excuse do you have for being over two hours late?"

"The train. Didn't you see my texts?"

"Yes, and it didn't make sense. Why were you on the later train? You knew you had to be here early."

"I know but—" I stop before I tell her too much. She still doesn't know I work full-time for Jett. She thinks I was at my old job today. "This meeting I was in ran late and by the time I left, I'd missed the four o'clock train. Then the five o'clock was cancelled."

She sighs and shakes her head. "One day. All I asked for was one day when it wasn't all about you and your job. One day, and you wouldn't do it."

"Kate, that's not fair, and it's not true. It's not always about me and my job. You've been working just as much as I have these past few months."

"Yes, but if you'd asked me to take a night off to spend with you, I would've done it. But you wouldn't do the same. You keep saying you'll show up and then you don't. And it isn't just tonight. This has been going on for weeks. That's why I've been working so many late nights. It isn't because I had to. It's because I didn't want to go home to an empty apartment."

"Kate, I swear, I tried to get off early, not just tonight but all those nights I was late. It's not like I chose to work late. I hate being away from you. Not being there when you fall asleep. Not being there when you wake up. I hate it, and I've been trying to change it."

"I don't have time to argue about this." She goes around me out of the office and back to the kitchen.

"Kate, please." I catch up to her. "Don't let this ruin your evening. Everything out there looks great. I want you to be happy."

"I was," she turns to me, "until the guy I love showed up two hours late. It would've been better if you'd just stayed at work. Having you here just reminds me that you couldn't make tonight a priority."

"Kate, I tried. I swear. You have no idea how hard I tried to make it here on time."

"And you have no idea how much I wanted you here. If you did, you would've been here."

I sigh, not sure what else to say. She walks away and goes through the door to the dining room.

I ruined her night. Ruined her opening. And instead of being angry, she seems sad. Hurt. Disappointed. She's disappointed in me because I let her down. And hurt her. Made her sad.

I've screwed up in the past, but this time? I really screwed up.