I listened to the dial tone for a full minute.

It’d been a while since I’d had a girlfriend, but I knew that sound. It was, unequivocally, the sound of me fucking up.

The people around me kept talking, smiling, drinking. No one noticed I was only half there. That part of me was with Ava, at The Bar.

Where the rest of you should be.

Dad had announced his candidacy for Senate the week before, but the journey started here, at the penthouse apartment of some banker my dad had gone to school with thirty years ago, who was now one of the most influential businessmen in America.

“Nathan.” Todd, whose house we were in, appeared next to me. “You must be very proud.”

“Thank you. I am.”

During my dad’s speech tonight I’d stood by him and my mother. I’d smiled at the right moments and then gotten swept off stage and into a corner, with the rest of the props.

“I’ll bet you have a lot of these nights in your future.” A white, capped grin. I remembered his face from the occasional dinner over the years.

“Yes, sir. And it’s good of you to host us tonight.”

Todd looked around modestly at the five-thousand-square-foot loft packed with the who’s who of New York politics and money. I’d heard his old home was bigger, but his ex-wife had gotten it in the divorce.

“My pleasure. Your dad’s going to be senator. But it’s going to take all of us to pull this off.”

And that was just it. Ava didn’t get that it took a lot of people working together behind the scenes to make something happen. I’d had a modest part to play tonight, but it was what I could do, all I could do, to support my family.

Even though you missed your girlfriend’s biggest moment of the year?

Ava and Lex had a lot of friends to celebrate with, I’d reasoned, thinking she’d understand if they were down by one. What hadn’t occurred to me until we were on the phone was how important this had been to her.

Fuck.

“There’s the man of the hour.” Todd beamed at my father, clapping a hand on his back.

“Todd. You’re one of the good ones. Bet you never thought we’d be here twenty-five years ago back when we spent most of our waking hours drinking at the campus pub.” They laughed.

I’d barely spoken to my dad tonight, but he was in fine form, smiling, making the rounds, and promising things.

Maybe I could say a final congratulations and sneak out now. Catch a car across town. Be at The Bar in thirty minutes.

“Nathan. We need a moment.” My dad gestured.

I straightened my suit and followed him toward the patio. It wrapped around the entire top floor of the building, offering another thousand square feet of chaises, a Japanese garden, and a bar.

The night was cool. Most of the crowd was inside, but a few men were smoking cigars. My father offered the same smile and handshake to each of them, though he called them all by name.

We found a quiet spot in the corner. I stood, looking out at the spectacular view, my hands in my pockets, wishing I could enjoy it more.

“That seemed to go well,” I started.

“It’s early.” He was distracted. “How’ve you been?”

“Good.”

He nodded. “It means a lot to me that you’re here, Nathan. I need you for this race.”

It was the first time he’d recognized it. “I’m glad to be here. You have my full support.” Even if tonight hadn’t gone as planned, I wanted to be part of this with him.

We hadn’t talked much since he’d found out I’d dropped the case. In fact, there had been less fallout than I’d expected. He’d simply had me pick up two other files to compensate. Chastised me for backing down.

“It’s a relief to hear it. Which is why I’m hoping you can explain this.” My father held out his phone to me. I glanced down at the screen.

It held a picture of me and Ava at the baseball game, my hand resting comfortably in hers.

Shit. I hadn’t had a chance to tell my dad about Ava yet. I’d hardly spoken with him since she’d reminded me. With the extra work I’d been putting in to make up for dropping the case and all the campaign work he’d been doing, it hadn’t come up.

“Read it.” He handed me the device. I took it wordlessly and scrolled down past the picture.

The headline was “All in the Family: How the Townsends Mix Work and Pleasure.” It went on to say that Nathan Townsend, son of candidate Alistair Townsend, was spotted with a woman believed to have been his defendant on a recent case in which he was representing the plaintiff.

I looked back at the photo. Ava and I were smiling at each other like we were conspiring. My hand was high on her leg in a way that looked almost lecherous.

No one had to tell me this was ammunition in the wrong hands. Damning to my father’s politics. And it cast the firm in a bad light.

I felt sick. “This is libelous. We never went out together until after I recused myself.”

“You brought her into my house, Nathan,” he murmured. “Made me feel like a fool.” His voice was low for the benefit of those around us, so no one could hear. But the words cut into me as if he’d shouted.

There was nothing I could say, no excuse that could make it better. No defence that could make it justified.

I forced my mind into damage control mode. “What do they want in order to not print this?”

My father took the phone back and made the photo vanish with the touch of a button. “It’s already out there,” he said matter-of-factly.

It took every ounce of willpower to retain my posture. It’d been trained into me over the years: don’t show your weakness; don’t show your pain. But all I wanted to do was shout, or curse, or throw one of the bonsai trees that lined the patio.

“I’m sorry. I’ll fix this. I’ll tell the press you weren’t involved.”

He looked out over the balcony like he was gazing into the future. Or the past.

When my father spoke again, his voice softened, but the undercurrent was still there. “Sometimes you forget yourself, Nathan. You forget it’s my name on the damn door of that firm. It might be yours someday, but it was mine first. It’s mine now. What you have I gave to you.” His jaw tightened. “So stop pissing on it.”

He turned to head back to the apartment.