The Billionaire Princess (18 page)

From previous stories he had told her, it sounded as if the Hall house had been a fun place to live.  Almost every story he recounted included at least one of his sisters and his friends growing up.  Hearing the stories made her a little envious.  While she'd had a childhood most could only dream about, it had been lonely.  Dylan was ten years older so by the time she could really interact with him, he'd already gone off to boarding school in England.  Jake was only two years older but they didn't share many of the same interests, so often he'd go off and do his own thing.  When he turned fourteen he left for school in Connecticut.  Not long after that she followed in her mother's footsteps and started attending
Roedean School, an all girls' boarding school, in England.

Even if they'd gone to schools nearby, Sara knew camping trips in state forests and cross-country road trips wouldn't have happened.  Her family vacations included trips to Paris and London where they stayed in hotels with every amenity imaginable.  While those trips had been fantastic, she found the stories of Christopher's family trips appealing.

What was it like to sleep inside a tent at night? Could she even fall asleep on the ground? Even with a sleeping bag and some additional padding, how comfortable could it possibly be lying on the ground all night? People did it all the time, so it must be manageable.

“I want to try camping,” Sara said without realizing how out-of-the-blue the statement sounded.

Christopher's eyebrows drew together in confusion. “And where did that idea come from?”

“You.”
In her mind she began a list of items she'd need.  She saw a shopping trip in her future.

“Me? You must have me confused with your other boyfriend.” Christopher continued to look confused.

Sara slid to the edge of her seat. “The camping trips with your family you told me about got me thinking. I've never been camping.  I've never even been inside a tent.” She squeezed his hand. “Let's try it.”

“You want to sleep in a tent on the ground?” The look of amazement remained on his face.

“Stop looking at me like that.  It'll be fun,” she answered her excitement building.

“The ground is hard and bugs sometimes get into a tent.  And Sara, you don’t get your own bathroom when you camp.”

Crossing her arms across her chest, she glared at him.  Why was he trying to change her mind? Did he think she couldn't handle it? “If you don't want to come, I'll ask someone else.'” She reverted back to her polite professional tone.  “Maybe Jake and Charlie will come with me.”

The disbelief vanished from his face. “If you really want to camp, we'll camp.  I haven't gone in a while but I still remember how.” Gently he pulled her arms apart.
“How about the end of next month?” He trailed a hand down her arm.  When he reached her hand he brought it to his lips. “Deal?” he asked before kissing the back of her hand.

Most of her annoyance washed away but not all. If he'd only agreed because he thought she'd change her mind, he was in for a big surprise.  “I'm going to hold you to it, Mr. Hall.”

Sunday afternoon Sara didn’t head right back to DC from Martha's Vineyard as planned, but returned to Cliff House instead. Now that she'd made a decision about Callie, she wanted to move forward with it. If she returned to DC first one of two things might happen, either she would change her mind or drive herself insane trying to come up with the right words.  If she went back to Cliff House now, she wouldn't have the opportunity to second-guess herself.

As the Secret Service agent turned the car onto Bellevue Avenue, Sara checked her watch.  She'd called her mother earlier to make sure Callie and Dylan were still there.  Her mother had told her that they planned to stay until late that afternoon.  Sara assumed that meant sometime close to three or four.  Since it was a few minutes before noon, she figured she had plenty of time.

Pulling into the garage, the agent parked next to Dylan's brand new Aston Martin and turned off the ignition of her car. Although it was one of the car company’s newest models, it looked identical to the previous Aston Martin he owned.  If Dylan was anything it was predictable and this car, like all his other vehicles, was jet black with a black leather interior. 

Jake's Lamborghini and a few other cars in the garage told her several guest remained.  Not what she wanted today.  If the conversation with Callie snowballed into an argument she didn't want a house full of relatives witnessing it.

Get moving.
She'd put on her big girl panties this morning—she could do this. Sara slammed the car door closed. She dealt with the bureaucrats on the Hill all the time.  If she could handle them, she could handle a conversation with her half-sister. No problem.

The further away from the garage she got, the slower her feet moved.  When she passed the dog kennel her parents built when she'd been showing dogs in competitions, she paused. Today Lucky, Callie's Border terrier, ran around barking excitedly at her. Without a second thought, she stepped inside to pet him.  As she ran a hand down the
dog's back he licked her free hand, his tongue warm against her skin evoking memories of Sebastian, the last Beagle she'd owned.  He'd passed away the previous year at the age of fifteen and she hadn't adopted another yet.  Right now her schedule kept her away from home a lot and it seemed unfair to have a dog if she couldn't be at home with it.  Dogs needed plenty of attention, something she knew she couldn't give right now.

Sara gave the small dog one last pet,
then stood.  “No more stalling, Lucky.”  The dog remained at Sara's feet looking up at her expectantly.  “Maybe I'll stop by again before I leave.”

Closing the gate behind her, Sara crossed the lawn and entered Cliff House through a back door.  When she didn't find Callie after a stroll through all the downstairs rooms, she climbed the central staircase to the second floor.  She walked down the hallway to Callie and Dylan's suite, the cement mixer already churning in her stomach kicking up a notch.  When she reached the door, she closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths then knocked. Almost right away the door swung open.

“Hi Callie.”

“Sara, if you're looking for Dylan, he went golfing with Warren.” Callie's expression remained neutral, not giving Sara any hint of her feelings.

A knot the size of a tennis ball formed in her throat threatening to choke her.  Yet somehow Sara managed to talk around it. “I… uh… stopped by to talk to you actually.”

Callie's eyes grew wide but otherwise her expression remained the same. “Okay,” she answered, her voice drawing out each syllable as she pushed the door open further.

Got past the front door, so far so good.
  Sara followed Callie to the sitting area where a black leather love seat and matching armchair stood in front of a flat screen television. When Callie sat in the armchair, Sara moved toward the love seat and sat down.  Dropping her shoulder bag onto the seat beside her, she looked around and wondered if all the furniture in her brother's penthouse was still black as well or had Callie redecorated.  She hadn't visited her half-brother in New York since before his and Callie's wedding.

“Did you want to talk about Healy's initiative? I know the vote is coming up soon.”

Sara toyed with the bracelet on her arm, but kept her eyes focused on Callie. “No.” Sara moistened her bottom lip with her tongue. “I wanted to talk… uh… about…” Sara paused mid-sentence unhappy with her choice of words. “I came here to apologize... and explain.” The words came out in a rush, somewhat blending together.

Callie remained silent not even blinking and Sara held her breath waiting for some response.

“Oh… okay.” Callie leaned forward placing the palms of her hands on her thighs.

With a whoosh, Sara exhaled. “When we first met, I acted like a bitch.” Sugar coating it made no sense. She'd acted like a bitch, plain and simple. “I was in the wrong and I am sorry.”

The words hung over them, the tension in the room thick.

“Sara—”

“No, wait—let me finish.” She needed to get it all out at once with no interruptions. “A month before Dad received your mom's letter, I had broken up with a man I'd been dating for awhile.  We met at a DC fundraiser.  Things got serious fast, or at least I thought the relationship was serious.” Clenching her jaw, she paused for a moment. “Turned out he worked for Richardson. He’d gotten close to me so he could dig up some dirt to use against Dad during the campaign. When you suddenly appeared, I thought you were someone else hoping to use the family name for your gain. Someone who could not only hurt the ones I care about but also ruin my father's political career. It had happened in the past.”

Done
. She'd managed to get it all out. Now came the wait. How would Callie respond? Her expression gave nothing away.

The second hand on the mantle clock ticked by, the only sound heard as they sat and stared at each other. A trickle of sweat and apprehension slid down her back. Had she just exposed herself for nothing?

“That's why you acted that way?” Callie's voice held nothing but disbelief.  “I thought you hated me because of the relationship Warren had with my mother.  I assumed you saw me as some kind of second class citizen because of who she was, or I guess who she wasn't, considering who your mom is.”

Sara cringed.  Before Callie voiced her assumptions, she hadn't considered how Callie perceived her behavior.  “Honestly, Callie none of that bothered me.  Yes, I found the idea that Dad had a child with another woman, a little I guess you could say… odd, but it happened before my parents met. If I made you feel that way, I'm sorry about that too.”

She hadn't thought much past the apology and explanation.  With that out of the way, how should she proceed? “I know this is all kind of sudden, but I hoped we could start over.  Forget the past happened and get to know each other.” There she'd extended herself, now it was up to Callie to accept or not.

The neutral expression on her half-sister's face finally changed. “I'd like that.  I always wanted a sister,” she answered with a tentative smile.

Sara released the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.  “Me too.  How about the next time you visit DC we get together?”

Callie nodded.  “And if you're in New York, stop by.  I don't think you've seen the apartment since we redecorated.”

“I'd like that.”  A small smile formed on Sara's face.

Relief oozed from Sara, when she left Cliff House ten minutes later. She'd accomplished her goal.  She'd cleared the air between them and they'd agreed to start over. Who knew what that might lead to in the future? The possibility that they'd never have a close relationship remained, but at least now they could be in the same room together without the tension.  If for no other reason, it'd been worth it.  Hopefully they'd get to know each other better.  They may never be as close as she and Jake, but they'd grown up together.  Then again Jake and Callie were close so perhaps you didn't need a shared past in order to have a strong sibling relationship.  Either way, only time would tell.

***

Ten more emails, the damn things never stopped coming
. Even though only a select group of individuals had Christopher’s direct email address, there still remained a constant stream of messages.  Stifling a yawn, he scanned the names listed next to each one. He doubted any were dire emergencies, but he couldn't put the messages off until morning even though at the moment his mind was ready to call it a day.  While his watch said seven o'clock, his body kept telling him differently. It seemed to think he was still on the East Coast. Not that he blamed it. Over the past several weeks he'd done a lot of time zone hopping, and it'd finally caught up with him.

The first eight emails required only short replies, nothing he found taxing.  The ninth caught his attention. Opening the message from Senator Healy, he smiled after reading the contents. Both the Washington Post tracking Poll and the Gallup Poll showed that support for Healy's education initiative was high and, while it was not a guarantee that the Senate would approve, it made it seem likely.
Just what he wanted to hear.

After answering the last email, he logged off his computer and left his office and work behind for the night. 

Less than half an hour later Christopher turned on the large flat-screen television in his media room and plopped down with some heated-up leftovers.  One benefit of having his sister stay with him while her townhouse was remodeled—she cooked all his favorite meals.  His cook came in a few days a week to prepare meals for him also did a fabulous job.  His refrigerator was always full of delicious premade meals he could heat up.  The only problem with the arrangement, the cook didn't believe in everyday meals.  She made a fuss whenever he asked her to make some of his favorites like shepherd's pie or plain old macaroni and cheese, and when she did make them they never tasted quite right.  Somehow she always managed to put some strange twist on them in an attempt to make them gourmet.  His sister Caroline, didn't share that problem and she cooked almost as well as their mother.  When they completed the work on her townhouse, he'd miss her cooking.

Okay, maybe not just her cooking.  Having someone else around was nice.  Growing up, his house had always been full of activity and noise.  Even in college and grad school he had a roommate. Since buying his first home, he'd become accustomed to living alone. That wasn't to say he didn't sometimes miss the craziness of a full house, but rather that he'd learned to deal with the loneliness.