Married by June. Ellen Hartman
woman with the baby wasn’t interested in publicity, but she wasn’t going to go away either. The baby was undeniably Bailey’s. Those were the main points. Bailey was going to be a dad—Cooper couldn’t take that in. He had to stop himself from interrupting because he kept thinking Theo was skipping something important, something that he couldn’t quite grasp. As his cousin went through the recap, the weight of the debacle settled on him.
And it was a debacle. Bailey was done. God. His brother had all the gifts in the world. He could have been a legend. Except he was still human—still the same guy Cooper had grown up with, brilliant but unpredictable.
“So, Cooper.” His dad leaned toward him, the intensity in his brown eyes as unnerving as it had been when Cooper was a kid and committed some transgression. “We need you to write the speech of a lifetime. When Bailey reads the speech, it has to convince the people of Pennsylvania, and most of all, Governor Karloski, that your brother has made one, small, forgivable mistake. That his loving wife, Jill, is sticking with him in this troubled time, that he is deeply, truly sorry for said small error, and that, with the best interests of Pennsylvania in mind, he has made the difficult, but honorable decision to step down.” He counted off each point, tapping a thick finger on the legal pad in front of him. “And most importantly, you need to lay the subtle kernel of a notion that the very best person to pick up the end of Bailey’s term is his devoted and deserving brother. That’s the linchpin, Coop. We need you in there now.”
There was so much that was wrong with what his dad had just said. For one thing, according to Theo, Jill was currently on her way to her mom’s house in the Poconos with a divorce lawyer already on speed dial. Cooper wasn’t stupid, but it really did take him a second for the most important thing his dad had said to sink in. “Me? You want me to run for the Senate?”
Theo pushed his notebook toward Cooper. He’d sketched what looked like a timeline and now he ticked off each point with his pen. “You’re not running for anything. Bailey resigns and the governor appoints someone to finish his term. That’s you. Because the primary is already over, the state party committee is allowed to select the candidate to run in the general election. That’s me. I win the seat and you’re off the hook by next January.”
“Why aren’t you taking the seat right now?” It had long been understood that if anything happened to Bailey, Theo was the designated heir.
“Too young.”
Cooper looked at his dad.
“He can’t be sworn in until he’s thirty, which he won’t be until October,” Nolan said. “If any of this had been planned, we could have worked the timing and made sure Theo was ready. But your goddamn brother hasn’t left us any wiggle room and Theo is not a viable option at the moment. Which is why we need you.”
Bailey hadn’t turned around. Hadn’t opened his mouth since their dad told him to shut up. Cooper realized what had been missing from the facts as they were laid out.
“I need to talk to Bailey,” he said. “Alone.”
“Later,” his dad said. “If we don’t get in front of this thing today, we can kiss the seat goodbye. Karloski is going to have to sell you to a lot of unhappy people. We need to give him every inch of help we can. Your uncle Stephen is on his way to Harrisburg right now.”
Cooper stood up. He’d never been comfortable with defiance. Ever since he was a kid he’d been able to talk his way out of difficult situations without confrontation. But this issue was black-and-white and had to be met head-on.
“Dad, you’re talking about this as if it’s a done deal. I’ve never run for anything in my—”
His dad interrupted, chopping the air with an impatient swipe. “You’re not running now. You’re being appointed. We’re taking care of it. But it won’t happen if you don’t sit the hell down and let us get started.”
“I won’t be long.” Cooper walked toward the door.
“You’re wasting time we don’t have,” his dad said.
He pushed the door open. His neck prickled as if his dad’s stare was a living thing, ready to leap on him. He owed his brother the chance to explain. He didn’t check to see if Bailey was coming. He didn’t need to. He heard a loud smack and guessed his dad had hit the table. In the kitchen he pulled out two beers and used the bottle opener mounted on the edge of the stainless-steel-covered island to open them. He took a long swallow from one bottle and held the other one out just as Bailey came through the door. The beer ran cold down his throat but did nothing to settle his thoughts, which were pretty much an infinite loop of “Senator Cooper Murphy” and “holy hell” and “out of their freaking minds.”
“Drinking on the job already, Cooper?”
“Don’t,” he said.
“Don’t what?” Bailey took a pull of his own beer, but he flicked a glance sideways at Cooper.
“Don’t be flip. Don’t pretend you’re an asshole. I’m not Dad.”
Bailey nodded and put his beer down on the island. Cooper leaned forward, exhausted by what was turning out to be an incredibly long and horrible day.
“What do you want to know?”
“You’re too smart for this to have been a mistake or a surprise. You got her pregnant on purpose. If you wanted out, why not just withdraw from the campaign?”
Bailey glanced toward the closed door and then sighed. “I don’t know why Dad never believes me when I tell him you’re the devious one.”
“I can’t believe you’d do this. Not to your staff or the family. Jill. What the hell, Bay? Why not just retire?”
“Because they wouldn’t have let me.”
Cooper started to protest but Bailey stopped him.
“Don’t pretend it’s not true. I could never stand up to them. You were in there—Dad and Uncle Stephen, Mom, even Theo—they’re relentless. Be sides, it’s not just the job, Coop. It’s my life. Bailey Murphy. I hate freaking Bailey Murphy. If Jill and I were ever in love, that ended years ago. In the past couple years, we haven’t even been friends.” He leaned back on the counter. “She’s having an affair with Cal Dobbs.”
Cooper winced. He’d heard rumors, seen some things that didn’t add up, but he’d always thought Jill had better taste. Cal had a bad haircut and a worse personality. And he cheated at golf. Among other things, apparently.
“I used to get a charge out of the job, but that’s not enough. I want a whole life. I want to be with someone I can love and do something I care about because it’s mine, not because someone decided it should be mine for no reason other than that I was born first. I met Deb and…she’s what I want. Her and the baby. As long as I was Senator Murphy, I couldn’t be with her. I couldn’t see another way out.”
“Divorce?”
Bailey shook his head.
He was right. Divorce would have gotten him out of the marriage, but he wanted out of the job, too. Out of his life.
“You could have thrown a debate. Messed up a speech.”
“No one cares about that stuff except guys like you. It wouldn’t have affected the election.”
Cooper crossed to the round wooden breakfast table in a windowed nook overlooking the backyard. He sat, putting his beer next to him, stretching his legs in front of him, wishing he could figure out what he was supposed to feel. Growing up, he and Bailey had eaten dinner at this table more often than not. When their parents were both home, the family ate in the dining room, but nights when all four of them were around at the same time had been rare. He’d been close to Bailey and he knew his brother had struggled with their parents’ expectations when he was younger, but he’d seemed to grow out of that. Maybe he’d just gotten better at hiding it.
He wasn’t sure