The Senator's Daughter. Sophia Sasson

was so embarrassed. When we got home, he told me I had no business making those comments. My job at those parties was to smile and look pretty.”

      Kat’s heart ached for her mother. For most of Kat’s life she’d been sick, but once in a while when her medication was just right, Emilia showed Kat a glimpse of the intelligent and vibrant woman she was. She had often wondered whether her mother would have been a different person if she hadn’t been heartbroken over her father.

      “There was always something. I didn’t know how to host a proper dinner party or smile properly when the photographers snapped our picture. I started staying home more and we drifted apart. I could tell I wasn’t the wife he’d hoped for. Then one night I heard his daddy tell him that I was going to ruin his dreams of becoming president. He told his father he’d made a commitment to me, and as a good Christian, he wasn’t going to break his marriage vows. He said he’d just have to give up his dreams. That’s when I left.”

      Kat put her arm around her mother. Emilia wiped her eyes. “I loved him, Kat. I wasn’t going to be the reason he didn’t become the great man I knew he could be.”

      “Did you tell him why you left?”

      Her mother nodded. “I told him we weren’t right for each other, that he needed to marry a woman who could be his first lady. He was so angry with me...wouldn’t talk to me after I left...said I’d abandoned him. Then you came and I had a new purpose in life. By then he’d remarried and had a perfect new wife. I saw them on TV, the perfect couple. She looked great on camera. I figured if I said anything he might sue for custody, and I’d lose you, too.”

      So that was when it had all started. Kat’s aunt had told her that undiagnosed postpartum depression had made her mother spiral out of control. But what if it was heartbreak, too? She squeezed her eyes shut to keep from crying. “I don’t have to do this, Mom. I don’t need to know him. I’ll quit the campaign.”

      Her mother grabbed her arm. “No, Katerina, I want you to know your father. I should have found a way to tell him. You need him now.”

      Something in her mother’s tone gripped her heart. “What do you mean, Mom?”

      Her mother shook her head. “It’s time, Kat. It’s time.”

      Kat wanted to press her mother, but a look at the wall clock told her it was almost time for the video call with the senator. Muttering an excuse about a grocery-store errand, she left. She drove to a nearby coffee shop and parked in a dark spot.

      After powering up the tablet and following Crista’s instructions to sign into the video chat app, all she had to do was wait. The senator would initiate the call. Her heart was pounding so loudly, she was sure he’d be able to hear it on the other end. She took out the BlackBerry to distract herself and noticed several messages from Alex. She must’ve missed them when she was talking to her mother.

      Do you want to come to DC tomorrow? Briefings on the IED bill.

      Would be good experience for you.

      Hello?

      Good material for your book.

      Kat? I see your BlackBerry is online. Are you ignoring me?

      This is not how I expect my staff to behave.

      She’d seen the other staffers constantly glued to their phones, but she refused to use the holster that would let her clip it to her person. Crista went as far as to say that she only wore clothes that allowed her to attach the BlackBerry. Kat thought about how to play this with him. Going to Washington, DC, tomorrow? It would be a three-hour drive for her, and she’d have to leave well before dawn to avoid the horrendous rush-hour traffic in DC. It was a long trip for one day. But she would get to spend it with Alex, away from campaign headquarters. Maybe she could grill him about his endgame, find out what he was up to with her.

      She thought about how easily she’d melted under his intense gaze. Was it a smart idea to spend more time with Alex? She punched out a message.

      Chill. My BlackBerry was in my purse.

      His response came seconds later. The man must have lightning-fast fingers.

      Keep it on you at all times. That’s an order.

      Really?

      I don’t take orders from you.

      She waited.

      You do if you want to work on the campaign. DC tomorrow. Be here by 9.

      She stuck her tongue out at the device.

      I’ll be there at 8. Be available to sign me in.

      She was not, in fact, going to take orders from him, and tomorrow was a good opportunity to tell him face-to-face.

      The tablet chimed and her father’s face lit up the screen. With trembling fingers, she touched the answer button.