“MR. VICE PRESIDENT.” Brant followed Nick up the stairs to the room he’d set up for the children. “I need more information on who these children are and why Mrs. Cappuano is bringing them here rather than allowing social services to handle the matter.”
“Mrs. Cappuano, also known as Lieutenant Holland, doesn’t need a reason to bring guests to her own home.”
“I understand the sensitive nature of her job—”
“Do you, Brant? Do you really?”
The agent’s posture lost some of its rigidity. “She’s very good at what she does. No one would ever say otherwise, but she can’t bring people here to stay without clearing them through us. By now, you both know how this works. I’m just doing my job, sir, and my job is to keep you and your family safe. I can’t do that if I don’t have all the information I need.”
“I understand what you’re saying, and as soon as Sam gets home, she can brief you on what you need to know.”
“In the future, that needs to be done before she brings home overnight guests.”
“I’ll mention that to her,” Nick said, laughing to himself as he imagined how that conversation might go. Sam marched to the beat of her own drummer, which was one of many things he loved about her. Trying to control her was like trying to harness nuclear energy.
“Do you find this situation amusing, sir?” Brant asked, visibly annoyed.
Nick liked that the agent was comfortable enough with him to ask the somewhat cheeky question. “It’s more the thought of trying to ‘manage’ Sam that amuses me than the situation itself.”
Brant’s lips moved a fraction of an inch in an upward direction, which was as far as he would go toward admitting he found that funny too.
“I know we’re not always the easiest family to deal with,” Nick said.
“Understatement,” Brant muttered.
“But,” Nick continued, pretending he hadn’t heard the comment, “we do appreciate what you and the others do for us and the challenges presented by Sam’s work.” Who ever said he couldn’t speak like a politician when necessary?
Standing with hands on hips, starched dress shirt taut and tie still snugly in place after a twelve-hour day, Brant seemed to make an effort not to roll his eyes. Or so it seemed to Nick as he added pillows to the bed and straightened the comforter.
Downstairs he heard the front door open and Sam’s voice as she conferred with the agent working the door. What did it say about him that the sound of her voice after a long day apart made him feel elated? That he had a bad case for his wife, and he couldn’t wait to see her.
“There they are,” Nick said.
Brant stepped aside to allow Nick to go first out of the room and down the stairs to greet Sam and the two little blond children who hovered next to her. With one quick look, Nick could see they were adorable and traumatized, which was why Sam had offered them shelter. You’d have to be dead or unfeeling not to be moved by them.
“Remember when I told you my husband is the vice president?”
The little girl nodded, but the boy had no reaction.
“This is my husband, Nick. Nick, this is Aubrey and Alden.”
Nick squatted to their level. “Hi, guys. It’s nice to meet you. I’m glad you could come over tonight. This is Brant and that’s Nate,” he said, gesturing to the agent at the door.
“I’ve seen you on TV,” Aubrey said shyly. “Mommy says you’re cute.”
As his face heated with embarrassment, Nick looked up at Sam and found her biting her lip to keep from laughing. She gave him an I told you so look, and he knew what she was thinking. She was forever embarrassing him by talking about his so-called hotness. Whatever.
“Are you guys hungry?” Nick asked. “We have some pizza. Do you like pizza?”
“We love pizza,” Aubrey said, clinging to her brother’s hand.
His silence worried Nick. “Right this way.” He gestured for them to follow him to the kitchen, where he set them up with plates of the cheese pizza he’d ordered in anticipation of their arrival, figuring it would be easier than spaghetti at that hour. Most kids loved pizza, and he’d taken a chance they would too. “What would you like to drink? We have milk, apple juice, water and lemonade.”
“Lemonade, please,” Aubrey said. “Alden likes chocolate milk.”
“We can do that. Our son, Scotty, is a big fan of chocolate milk.”
“Where is he?” Aubrey asked.
“He’s upstairs. I’ll tell him to come say hello.” Nick put the drinks in front of them and then sent a quick text to Scotty to let him know they had guests. He was in his room finishing his homework after dinner and a shower.
With the kids settled and eating their pizza, Nick went to Sam, put an arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple. “Hello, dear. How was your day?”
She looked up at him. “If I forget to tell you, you’re the best.”
“Happy to help, but Brant would like a word with you.”
“Why did I know you were going to say that?”
“He’s a little unsettled about tonight’s developments.”
“I wondered why he was still here long after his shift ended.”
“He’s waiting for you.”
“He’s not going to like what I have to say.”
“I suspected as much.”
“He won’t make me...” She tipped her head toward the kids.
“I won’t let him. Don’t worry.”
“Are you allowed to defy your detail?”
“Let me worry about them. You have enough on your plate.”
Scotty came into the kitchen, stopping short at the sight of the kids eating pizza at the kitchen table. He glanced at his parents.
“Scotty, this is Aubrey and Alden. They’re spending the night with us.” He’d told his son in the text that the two had lost their parents in a fire.
“Hey, guys,” Scotty said, approaching the table. “I’m Scotty. Mind if I join you?”
Aubrey gave him an assessing look while Alden seemed to shrink into himself even more.
While Scotty sat with them, helping himself to a piece of pizza, Nick wrapped his arm around Sam because he could and because he sensed she needed the comfort even more than usual tonight.
* * *
WITH THE KIDS OCCUPIED, Sam cozied up to Nick, letting him shoulder some of the burden that weighed her down. “Are you hungry?” he asked.
“I could eat.”
“I got you that Asian chicken salad you like.”
“God, I love you.” She kissed his cheek and gazed up at him. “Best husband ever.”
“As you would say, I do what I can for the people.”
Keeping her voice down so she wouldn’t be overheard, she said, “And you shall be richly rewarded at bedtime.”
His beautiful hazel eyes were even more so when he looked at her with desire and need and love.
How would she stand to go three long weeks without him to come home to?
“How long until bedtime?” he asked in the same low tone.
“Not long at all,” she said. “I’m spent from this day.”
“Not too spent, I hope.”
“When am I ever too spent for you?”
“Never, and that’s what makes you the best wife I ever had.” He patted her ass. “Go eat. You’re going to need a second wind.”
Desire was an ever-present thing whenever he was close by and often when he wasn’t. She thought of him, and she wanted him. Even if “having him” meant being in the same room, talking, laughing, arguing, debating, parenting or watching TV in perfect silence. Being with him completed her in a way that nothing else and no one else ever could. And when he looked at her in that particular way, with the look that told her he wanted her every bit as much as she wanted him, it was all she could do to remember the three children in the room.
As she ate her salad, she thought of the time, before Scotty had come to live with them, when they’d had sex on the kitchen floor. Those days were long gone with a child in their midst and the place crawling with Secret Service.
While Sam ate her salad, Scotty kept up a steady stream of chatter with Aubrey.
Alden hung on Scotty’s every word.
“Hey, buddy,” Sam said to her son, “maybe you can show Alden one of your driving games before bed.”
“Sure,” Scotty said. To Alden, he added, “Do you want to play?”
Alden looked to Aubrey, who gave him a nudge. “Go ahead.”
With his hand on the younger boy’s shoulder, Scotty guided Alden out of the kitchen.
“My heart,” Sam said to Nick, watching them go. “He’s the best.”
“Yes, he is.”
To Aubrey, she said, “Is Alden always so quiet?”
“He’s shy. That’s what Mommy says. Is she coming to get us soon?”
Sam’s heart broke into a million pieces. “She can’t come tonight, but we should know more tomorrow.”
The little girl was thoughtful as she processed what Sam had said.
“How would you like to take a bath in my big fancy bathtub? I have all different bath bombs, and you can pick whichever one you like. What do you think?” Sam had never met a girl who didn’t love a bubble bath.
“That would be fun.”
“Okay, let’s go.”
Sam offered a hand, pleased that someone would enjoy the bath bombs her niece Abby had given her last Christmas. Baths were a luxury she rarely had time for.
“Clothes,” Sam said quietly to Nick before they left the kitchen. “Will you text Tracy and ask her to bring over something in the morning? Her kids must have something they’ve outgrown that we can use until we have time to get more.”
“Yep,” he said, getting busy on his phone to text Sam’s older sister.
In the master bathroom, Sam turned on the water to the tub and got out the basket of bath bombs for Aubrey to consider.
She sniffed each of them before deciding on a strawberry-scented one.
Sam unwrapped it and handed it to Aubrey. “You want to put it in?”
“Okay.”
She dropped it in the water, her eyes widening with delight when the water turned red.
Sam tested the temperature and got out a towel.
“Do you want me to stay and help you, or would you prefer privacy?”
“I can do it myself,” she said.
“I’ll be right outside the door. Call me if you need anything.”
Aubrey bit her lip as she looked up at Sam. “Alden might be scared.”
“I’ll check on him.”
“Okay.”
Sam turned off the water and left Aubrey to take her bath while she went to knock on Scotty’s door to check on the boys. She poked her head in the dark room that was lit only by the glow of the TV screen. Thumb in mouth, Alden was asleep on the pillow next to Scotty’s.
“He conked out about five minutes after we came up.”
“I can move him to the bed that Dad made for him and Aubrey.”
“It’s okay if he stays there. I don’t mind.”
“She’s going to want to be with him.”
“They can both sleep here. It’s fine.”
“You’re very kind, Scott Cappuano.”
He shrugged. “I’ve been where they are. I know how scary it can be to find yourself staying with people you don’t know.”
Sam went into the room and sat next to him on the bed. “I’m sorry if this brings back memories you’d rather forget.”
“I don’t want to forget my mom or my grandpa.” He took a deep breath and looked up at her. “Sometimes I can barely remember them, and that bums me out.”
Sam reached for him, and he allowed her to hug him and play with his hair.
“I hope nothing ever happens to you guys,” he said. “I don’t know if I could get over that.”
“Nothing will happen to us. We’re too ornery for that.”
“You are,” he said with a snort of laughter. “That’s for sure.”
Sam gave a gentle tug to a tuft of his hair. “Don’t stay up too late. School night.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know the drill.”
“Thanks for your help tonight and for being you, which was just what Alden and Aubrey needed.”
“No problem.”
Sam kissed his forehead. “Love you.”
“Love you too.”
She returned to the master bedroom, where Nick sat on the bed, book in hand. When she started to speak, he held up a hand to stop her.
“Listen,” he whispered.
Aubrey was singing—beautifully. Sam didn’t recognize the song, but it had a classical sound to it—and then she realized the child was singing in another language. “Is that...”
“Italian,” Nick said. “Andrea Bocelli, ‘Time to Say Goodbye.’”
“How does a five-year-old know Italian?” Sam asked, riveted by what she was hearing.
The official phone that Nick was required to have with him at all times rang, startling them both. Sam always expected to hear a nuclear bomb was about to end the world when that phone rang.
He reached for the phone on the bedside table. “Yes?” After listening for a moment, he said, “I’ll send her down as soon as the children are settled.” He ended the call and put the phone back on the table. “Brant is waiting for you.”
“Wait till he hears the rest of the story.”
“What is the rest of the story?”
Because she trusted him with her life, Sam told him what they’d learned from Hill about the children’s father and his business dealings.
Nick’s eyes got very big. “Brant’s going to shit himself when you tell him that.”
“Do I have to tell him?”
“Yes, you do, because as he said, his job is to protect us, and he can’t protect us unless he has all the information he needs.”
“He’s going to make me take them to a hotel. He’ll say it’s not your call.”
“I’ll make it clear to him that this is nonnegotiable. The kids are staying. They are far safer here than they would be in a hotel.”
“That’s true.” Sam went to the bathroom door and knocked. “Are you ready to get out yet?”
“I’m already out,” Aubrey said.
“I’ll be right in with a T-shirt you can sleep in. Hold on a sec.” Sam went across the hall to the bedroom she used as a closet. In one of the boxes in the far back corner she withdrew one of her prized Bon Jovi T-shirts that was far too small for her now but had once been a favorite. When she returned to the bedroom and showed Nick the shirt he laughed.
“Aubrey has no idea how lucky she is to get to wear that shirt.”
“I know! It should be in a museum.”
Nick rolled his eyes.
Sam knocked on the door, and when Aubrey told her to come in, Sam stepped into the bathroom. The child looked tiny and vulnerable wrapped up in the big puffy towel Sam had given her. She held up the shirt for Aubrey to see. “Bon Jovi is one of my favorite bands.”
“My daddy loves Bon Jovi.”
“So do I.” Sam helped her into the shirt before scooping up the clothes she had removed to put them in the washer. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. Jon Bon Jovi sang at my wedding.”
“You know him?”
“Uh-huh. I’ve actually met him twice. He also sang at Nick’s inauguration when he became vice president.”
“That’s so cool. My daddy wants to meet him.”
Once again, Sam’s heart broke for what would never be, and she wondered how they would ever find the strength to tell these precious babies that their parents were gone forever.
“How did you learn to sing in Italian?”
“Mommy loves Andrea Bocelli. We listen to him all the time.”
“You have a very pretty voice.”
“Thank you. Mommy says so too.”
“Do you speak Italian?”
“No,” she said, “I just sing what I hear.”
“It’s very lovely.” She ran a brush through Aubrey’s damp hair and set her up with a toothbrush and toothpaste. “Alden fell sleep in Scotty’s room. Do you want to sleep with them or in the bed that Nick made for you?”
“With Alden. He’ll be scared if he wakes up and I’m not there.”
Sam showed her the way to Scotty’s room and helped her into bed next to Alden. Sam turned on a Spiderman night-light that Scotty hadn’t used since he first lived with them. “Nick and I are right across the hall. If you need anything during the night, come get me. Okay?”
Aubrey nodded but her big eyes filled with tears. “Are you sure Mommy can’t come pick us up?” she whispered.
“Yes, honey, I’m sure.”
“Does she know where we are? She’ll be really scared if she doesn’t know where we are.”
Sam blinked back tears as she looked down at the adorable little face. “She knows where you are.” Sam had to believe that was true. She leaned over to kiss Aubrey’s forehead. “Try to get some sleep.”
She stayed until Aubrey curled up to her brother, put her arm around him and closed her eyes. And to think she still had to call Elijah and tell him that his father and stepmother were most likely dead. She’d had more than enough of this day, and it wasn’t over yet.