Sexual Politics (2 page)

Sean cleaned up nicely, but she could tell he was as uncomfortable with the public side of his life as she was with hers. There was something genuine about him. After living with a facsimile of a human being for seven years, that was an attractive quality to have.

The cab turned onto her street and she began to worry the purse in her lap. Their ride had taken no time at all. They pulled to the curb in front of her townhouse and she started to open the clasp on her purse for her share of the fare. That’s when Sean O’Donnell finally touched her bare hand, stopping her.

“It was on the way,” he said.

“Thank you.”

He exited the car then held the door, assisting her out. “I’ll walk you up.”

Afraid it would feel too much like the end of an awkward date, she declined his offer, though she appreciated his consideration. “That isn’t necessary.”

“Don’t forget, the Russell Gallery. I hope to see you there, Mrs. Hubbard.”

Flattered, she laughed softly. “I’ll be there. But please, call me Justine.”

She liked how his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. “Sean.”

“Thank you for the ride.”

“My pleasure. Goodnight, Justine.” He stood there, silent and seemingly unaffected by the large, fluffy snowflakes settling on his hair and shoulders.

“Goodnight, Sean.” Feeling a blush coming on, she hurried up her front steps and slipped her key in the lock. He was still watching over her from the open car door when she turned on the light and stepped into the foyer. Lifting her hand, she gave him a final parting wave.

Nodding once in return, he dipped his head and got back into the taxi.

As the car pulled away, she fell against the door and turned the deadbolt, her heart racing in a thrilling and inappropriate way.

* * * *

Sean walked into his apartment and unwound his scarf then looped it over a hanger. Shrugging out of his dark overcoat, he slid it onto the smooth wood and hung it in the closet.

There was no reason to turn on the lights. The amber glow from the windows lit the rooms making it easy to navigate around furniture. Reaching up, he smoothed back his snow-dampened hair and headed to his bedroom. He emptied his pockets and left everything on the dresser then moved to take off his jacket and remembered Justine’s business card in his breast pocket. Laying it on top of his keys and phone, he let his mind drift to her, to the evening as he draped his jacket over the armchair and began to unbutton his shirt. Calmly tugging it out of his pants, he released the cuffs and sank to the edge of the bed to pull off his shoes.

He wanted to photograph her, more than he’d wanted anything in years. The thought excited him and lit a long dormant fire in his belly. She’d look beautiful in black and white, sepia—his head went up and he scanned the dim room—even this ethereal glow. Had she ever modeled for anyone? Would she be surprised if he asked her to pose for him? How would she react if he said in the nude? He could already picture her in certain positions, curled in a ball for one, her arms wrapped around her legs, her cheek resting on her knees as she faced the camera. He wanted a side view, as if she were folded inside an invisible box, a sad look in her eyes. No smile.

She had something, that indefinable allure that could tug at a heart or bring the right man to his knees.

Standing up to release his belt and shed his pants, he wondered about her marriage. It was easy to see why she fell for her husband. Gary Hubbard was charismatic, polished, and driven. No doubt his healthy ego was a big part of his success. But Sean had a hunch the senator’s ego would be his downfall too. He’d become careless, callous. Tonight was a case in point.

How could she stand the man? Why did she stay? Not only did she stay, she’d taken a leave of absence from her own important work to help her husband with his. He didn’t deserve her, certainly didn’t appreciate her and the sacrifices she made to keep him in office. There had to be a reason, though it escaped him.

After undressing, he pulled back the comforter and slid naked between the cool sheets. Chilled, he snuggled deeper under the covers. A bed-warmer would be nice on a cold night like this—a beautiful, curvaceous bed-warmer. Did the Hubbards share a bed anymore? Not likely. From what he observed, there was a good possibility she wasn’t willing to share the same
floor
with her husband. She shied from his touch and looked repulsed by his kiss. Sean felt for her, in oh so many ways. It was an appalling sin to neglect a woman like Justine, even worse to leave her so disappointed and disillusioned in her marriage.

Any casual observer might assume she had it all. But then,
he
wasn’t a casual observer. When he peered through a lens, he wasn’t looking for the cheesy smiles and perfect photo-ops. He was watching for the true emotions before everyone took their places, and after. His goal was to capture the honesty, the humanity people sometimes forgot to see in each other.

He hoped she’d come to his show. He would have two tickets to the exclusive preview set aside for her.

Sean prayed she’d only need one.

* * * *

Justine set her book down and took off her glasses, noting the time as she reached to turn off her bedside lamp. It was twelve-thirty and the prick wasn’t home yet. Not that she’d expected him to be. When Gary used the words, “Don’t wait up,” he generally meant them.

She’d never felt so alone. There was no one she could confide in, not without jeopardizing his campaign. She might not care for the man anymore, but she still believed in his political platform. He was one of those rare men with the talent and stamina to bring off the impossible.

Thinking back to the beginning of their relationship, she sighed bitterly at how idealistic and trusting she’d been. She didn’t know his every move was calculated with an end goal in mind. When he began to pursue her, she was so flattered her head spun. Their exciting whirlwind romance swept her off her feet and right into his bed. She’d never met a more passionate man. She admired it at the time. Not so much anymore. When you were the wife of a man with a short attention span where women are concerned, limitless passion was downright painful.

She didn’t regret banning him from her bed. It was the right thing to do. Who knew what he might have brought back to her eventually. What she did regret was not having children. How long had he
tried
to get her pregnant before she decided to seek fertility treatment? Only then did her husband admit he’d conveniently neglected to tell her about the vasectomy he had two years before they met. He knew she wanted to be a mother!

Betrayed and denied, she threw herself into creating Open Arms, Warm Hearts, a non-profit that worked to place unwanted children in good homes. There was a wall of photos at the office, a tribute to the success of her mission to build families—even if she never got one of her own.

She missed her job, but right now she had to stump for the people’s candidate, playing her empty shell of a part with her fixed smiles and private sorrows. If she thought it was all to feed his monumental ego, she wouldn’t bother, but whether they shared a bed or not, they still shared the causes that drew them together in the first place. To see those through, she’d make personal sacrifices.

It would just be nice to see her husband make a few sacrifices too. Alas, the more she retreated, the more he grew as a man to be reckoned with and the man to beat. She didn’t want to see his opponent in office. Phillip Gould’s agenda concerned her. People would be hurt by the policies he proposed. Unfortunately, Gould was garnering a lot of media attention, not to mention money, which meant Gary had better keep his pants zipped or all her sacrifices, and all his winning smiles, wouldn’t keep him in the senate.

Unbidden, her mind drifted back to Sean O’Donnell again. She might stray off-topic, but she always returned to him. It was impossible not to contemplate the differences between these two men. Her husband sought the limelight. He had a preternatural instinct for where the cameras were and how to capitalize on his own image. She wasn’t sure if it was even possible to catch him off guard, not that the media didn’t try.

Then there was Sean—quiet, unassuming, sensitive Sean. Clearly more comfortable behind the camera than in front of it, he had a gift for finding what others missed, or concealed. His revealing images forced people to feel, made them wake up and pay attention. Both men were influential in their own way, only Sean let his lovely photos speak for themselves. She liked his style.

The way he appeared tonight, with big snowflakes silently settling on his dark hair and shoulders, brought a romantic hero to mind. He had a nice smile. A kind, authentic smile. What would her life be like if she’d fallen for a man like him instead?

It was a pointless question, an unanswerable one.

Still, she couldn’t stop the sob of anguish when it came because she truly was alone. She yearned for love. She had so much to give, and longed desperately for a little in return.

Turning on her side, she hugged the extra pillow to her chest and quietly cried herself to sleep, knowing her husband was giving her share of love to some unknown bimbo right now.

Chapter 2

The next week was a hectic bustle of running from one speaking engagement to another, not to mention all the phone calls Justine made to help get out the women’s vote for her husband and the party. She only had two joint appearances with him, holding hands, masking her internal grimace when he put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him in a show of marital harmony and unity.

It was all for a good cause, she told herself, when they sped away in separate cars, her handler and his keeping them organized and focused on their mutual goal, if not their marriage. By late Thursday, she was feeling the strain. Calling in a few favors, she was able to clear her Friday schedule so she could detach from the political melee for a mental health day. She needed a break.

Craving a little normalcy, she dropped by unannounced at Open Arms, Warm Hearts. It felt like coming home. Walking into the reception area she pulled up short at the sight of Sean O’Donnell sitting in one of the visitor chairs, one ankle resting casually on the other knee, a leather portfolio in his lap.

He looked up, then sat up when their eyes met. His smile was most welcome.

“Mrs. Hubbard. I didn’t expect you to sit in on the meeting.”

“Justine,” she corrected him. “You’re here for a meeting? I had no idea. I should have called before dropping by. I missed this place, the stability.” She threw up her hands and laughed at herself. “Have you met Lise yet?”

“We’ve only spoken on the phone.” He glanced at the receptionist. “I understand she got caught up in a phone call, but she knows I’m here.”

“Oh good.”

He sat forward, studying her with concern. “How have you been?”

“Fine. Just fine.”

“Forgive me, but you look tired.” Now she got to see his caring smile.

“I am tired,” she admitted with a sigh. “It’s been a tough week. Very busy.”

“But not today?”

“I took the day off,” she declared with satisfaction.

He grinned. “I’m proud of you!”

“Justine?”

They both turned at a woman’s voice. She came forward and embraced Justine.

“Lise, I’m sorry for barging in on you,” she apologized. “I just missed all this, missed everyone. I had a free afternoon and, well, here I am.”

“Don’t be silly. Drop in anytime! Are you going to join the meeting?”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all. You helped to set it up.” Lise offered her hand to Sean who’d stood when she arrived. “Mr. O’Donnell?”

He clasped her hand. “Sean.”

“Nice to meet you. Why don’t we move to my office?” Catching herself, her eyes shot to Justine. She seemed uncomfortable for a moment. “
Your
office,” she amended.

Justine laughed softly. “Lise, relax. Right now it’s your office.
I
put you behind that desk.”

Looking relieved, Lise nodded. “Okay. Come on back.”

When they got to the office, Sean had quite a lot to show them. He unzipped his portfolio and extracted image after image, most his, though not all. It gave them an idea of what he had in mind for their adoption campaign.

Lise picked up one of the photos and studied it carefully. “I like this.” Handing it to Justine, she asked, “What do you think?”

“I’ve been a fan of Sean’s work for years. This is good. It expresses the need, works on natural sympathies. I think something like this would be perfect.”

“About models...” he spoke up. “Is it possible to see your Waiting Children registry?”

“Of course,” Lise answered, but both women were nodding. “Though, for legal reasons we may have to use already placed children. It will make it easier to get the proper releases signed.”

“I don’t see a problem with that. It’s best if we use kids, even families, with a positive emotional connection to Open Arms, Warm Hearts.”

Justine looked up from the photo in her hand to ask him, “Did you get a chance to look at our wall of success stories?”

“Earlier, yes I did. I saw a number of good candidates out there.”

Lise smiled at him. “Why don’t you point them out to me and I’ll contact their parents?”

Before he could respond there was a knock on the door. The executive assistant peeked in. “Ms. Van Zandt?”

“Yes, Cami?”

“Mr. Struthers has a few more questions for you.”

Her face fell. “Oh, I should take his call.”

Eager to help, Justine spoke up. “Why don’t I look at the photos with Sean? I can take down the names for you.”

Lise gave Justine a grateful nod. “Would you? That would be great. Thanks.” She glanced at her assistant. “Put Struthers through.”

Justine helped Sean gather his photos then they hurried out with the assistant. She followed Cami to her desk to borrow a pen and notepad while Sean headed over to the wall of photos. He turned with a smile when she joined him and explained he wasn’t looking for the cutest kids. Rather, they wanted young faces that popped with personality and would connect with the public in a visceral way. She agreed with every one of Sean’s choices. Marking them down, she left the pad with the assistant, along with instructions to get the children’s contact information to Lise.