Affairs of State

chapter Eight

A brief text from Liam Crowe, the head of ANS, told her the taping was scheduled for Tuesday, only two days away, and everyone at the network was scrambling to pull it together. Ariella had barely arrived home and unpacked before Francesca, Liam’s wife, came over to help her prep for the taping.

“It seems shallow to ask, but what do you think I should wear?” They both sat at her kitchen table, sipping herbal tea. Her nerves were firing like bullets. “I usually wear black but I’ve heard that doesn’t look good on video. It disappears or something. I don’t want it to vanish and leave me stark naked on national television.”

Francesca’s bold laugh filled the room. “It looks a bit flat, that’s all. But colors do usually work better. Let’s go look at your wardrobe.”

They walked into the bedroom. Ariella opened her closet door sheepishly. The apartment was old, from an era when people had maybe five to ten outfits. Her collection of clothes looked ready to burst out and start running.

“How do you find anything in here?”

“My first boss used to have a sign on her desk that read, ‘This is not a mess on my desk, it’s a wilderness of free association.’ I took it as inspiration.”

“It’s a wilderness, all right.” Still, Francesca dove boldly in and pulled out a knee-length red sheath. “Red portrays confidence.”

“That I don’t feel. I think I should go low-key.”

“You? You’re practically a princess. How about this royal blue?” She held up a matching top and skirt in an intense shade.

“I am sooo not practically a princess. Believe me. I was way out of my league with his family.”

“You met the queen?” Francesca grabbed her arm.

She nodded. “We made small talk. It was scary.” Ariella reached in for a quiet gray jacket and skirt. “How about this?”

“Way too mousy.” Francesca shoved it back. “I can’t believe you met the queen. I love her. She’s so old-fashioned.”

“Exactly. The kind of person who’s horrified by the prospect of her grandson dating an Amerrrrican.” She managed to roll her Rs. Then sighed. “He’s sweet but it’s one of those things with no future.”

“I’ll have to read your tea leaves when we’re done picking your outfit.”

“Does that work when you’re using a tea bag?”

“It does require more creativity, but I have plenty of that.”

“Let’s just stay focused on getting me through this taping in one piece. How about this lilac number?”

Francesca surveyed the dress. “Perfect. Fresh and young, yet sophisticated and worldly.”

“I’m glad that’s settled. Will I get to meet the pres— I mean, my father, before the taping starts?”

Francesca hesitated. “Liam and I did talk about that. He wants you to meet for the first time on air, for maximum dramatic impact. I told him this isn’t a primetime special—well, it is—but it’s your real life. If you don’t like the idea of meeting him under the studio lights, I’ll beg and plead until he gives in.”

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind meeting him on camera. In a way it might help as I’ll have to keep a lid on my emotions.”

“Oh, don’t do that. It’s bad for ratings.” Francesca winked.

“Liam would rather have me blubbering and calling him Daddy?”

“Absolutely.”

She blew out a breath. “Yikes. That’s not really me. I’m known for being calm under pressure. I’m afraid I won’t give good TV.”

“You just be yourself, and we’ll let Liam worry about the ratings.”

* * *

Ariella’s usually calm demeanor was trembling. Her hands kept shaking as she tried to apply her mascara. Her lips quivered as she smoothed on her lipstick. Even her hair seemed jumpy. In seventeen minutes—not that she was counting—she’d be sitting on a sound stage with the man who shared half her DNA. She wasn’t that nervous about the television cameras, or even the audience of millions that would supposedly be tuning in. She was nervous about what she’d see when she looked into Ted Morrow’s face.

Would his expression encourage her to build a relationship that could shape the rest of her life? Or would he be wearing that mask of genial competence that had helped him clinch the election? She knew that mask. She wore it herself a lot. In fact, she planned on wearing it tonight.

She hoped that this meeting might be the start of a relationship between them, but she was keeping her hopes in check since he didn’t know her well enough to trust her. He might not want to get close to anyone new. He was in a position of power and influence that made him strangely vulnerable. He probably didn’t want to share intimacies and feelings with a stranger who might turn around and repeat them to the press, or even to her friends. Still, she knew she’d be disappointed if she didn’t feel even a little bit closer to him after tonight.

“We’re on in five!” The perky production assistant stuck her head around the corner. “Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” She stood up on shaky legs and smoothed out the skirt of her lavender dress.

“You can come sit in the green room. The president is chatting with Liam so you won’t meet him until we’re on air.”

“It’s going to be totally live?” There’d been some back and forth about whether it would be taped and then edited, but the ANS producer had reassured her that if it was live she was actually more in control of the final output than if it ended up in the hands of directors and editors. Apparently live was also better for ratings.

“Yup. No delay. No one expects either of you to start cursing or doing anything else that needs to be tweaked before it goes out.” The PA squeezed her arm. “You’ll be great. Just remember not to talk too fast and try not to look at the cameras.”

“Okay.” She said it to reassure herself as much as the PA. What if she froze and couldn’t speak? What if she passed out in a dead faint? Whatever happened would be seen live by millions of curious onlookers.

She followed the PA into the green room, which wasn’t green at all but mostly gray and had two sofas and some chairs. A jug of water, glasses and a basket of muffins. She certainly didn’t have any appetite. She sat on one of the sofas and smiled weakly.

The PA looked at a sheet of paper in her hand. “Barbara Carey will be going in first to introduce you, then the president will come in.” Celebrity journalist Barbara Carey was known for her ability to make all her interviewees cry. They’d probably picked her just for that reason. No matter what happened, Ariella was sure she wouldn’t cry. All she had to do was stay calm, be polite and survive the half-hour ordeal.

A light went on near the door marked Studio C. “Has the show started?”

“Yup, they’re taping. Get ready.” She ushered Ariella over to the door, and opened it quietly. The lights blinded her as she stepped onto a big sound stage with cameras on all sides. Barbara Carey was sitting in a set that looked a bit like a living room, with soft chairs and a potted plant. There was an empty chair on either side of her. In a few seconds she’d be sitting in one of those looking at her father.

Her heart clenched and unclenched and she tried to keep her breathing steady.

Barbara Carey’s voice filled the air. “…a young woman who’s been plucked out of obscurity and thrust onto the world stage by the startling revelation that her father is none other than the president of the United States. Ariella Winthrop.” The PA had maneuvered her just outside the scene, so she plunged forward. Barbara stood and she shook her hand, then she sat in the seat indicated. Where was the president? She fought the urge to look around to see if he was standing offstage somewhere.

“Did you have any idea at all that your father was Ted Morrow?” Up close Ariella could see that Barbara Carey was wearing a tremendous amount of makeup, including long false eyelashes.

“Not until I read it in the papers like everyone else.”

“Had your parents told you that you were adopted?” She leaned in, sincerity shining in her famous blue eyes.

“Oh, yes, I always knew that I was adopted. They told me my mother was unmarried and too young to provide for me and that she gave me up so that I could have a better life.” Her thoughts strayed to Eleanor, so nervous and desperate to hide from the limelight. She’d rather die than be here on this stage.

“And did you ever hope to meet your birth parents?”

“I didn’t.” She frowned. People probably thought it shallow, but it was the truth. “I considered my adoptive parents to be my mother and father.”

“But they died in a tragic accident. Surely you must have wondered about the man and woman that gave you life?”

“Maybe I didn’t let myself wonder. I didn’t want to try to replace my mother and father in any way.” This was turning out to be more of an interview than she expected, and making her nervous. She wished they’d hurry up and bring Ted Morrow out. She probably wasn’t giving them the emotional yearning they were hoping for. “But I’m glad of the opportunity to meet my father.”

No one knew she’d already met her mother. She’d sworn to keep it a secret, and she’d stand by her promise.

“And you shall.” Barbara Carey stood. “Let me introduce you to your father, President Ted Morrow.”

A hush fell over the room as she rose to her feet, peering into the darkness just beyond the studio lights. The familiar face of the president emerged, tall, handsome, smiling. He looked at her and their eyes met. Her breath stuck in her lungs as he thrust out his hand and she took it. His handshake was firm and warm and she hoped it would go on forever. His eyes were so kind, and as she looked into them she saw them brimming with emotion. “Hello, Ariella. I’m very happy to meet you.” His voice was low and gruff.

Her heart beat faster and faster and her breathing grew shallow. “I’m very pleased to meet you, too.” The polite words did nothing to express the deep well of emotion suddenly rushing inside her.

His pale blue eyes locked with hers, and she could see shadows of thoughts flickering behind them. “Oh, my.” His murmur almost seemed to have come from her own mouth. Overwhelmed, their hands still clasped together, they stared at each other for a long time that seemed agonizingly short and then she felt his arms close around her back.

The breath rushed from her lungs as she hugged him back and held him with the force of twenty-eight years of unexpressed longing. She could feel his chest heaving as he held her tight. Tears fell from her eyes into the wool of his suit and she couldn’t stop them. It was too much. Feelings she’d never anticipated rocked her to her core. When they finally parted she was blinking and pretty sure that she wouldn’t be able to talk if someone asked her a question. The president’s—her father’s—eyes were wet with tears and his face still looked stunned.

He helped her to one of the seats, then took his place in the other, on the opposite side of Barbara Carey, who tactfully remained silent, letting the moment speak for itself. At last the interviewer drew in a breath. “It’s been a long time coming.” She looked from one of them to the other.

Ariella’s father—it didn’t feel crazy to call him that now, which didn’t really make any sense, but then none of this did—stared straight at her. “I had no idea you existed.” His voice was breathless, as if he was talking just to her, not to Barbara Carey, or the cameras, or the viewers.

“I know,” she managed. She’d known he existed, of course, but not who he was.

“Your parents have obviously done a wonderful job of raising you. I’ve learned of all your accomplishments, and how well you’ve handled the avalanche of events these last few months.”

She smiled. “Thanks.”

“I should have met with you before now but I was foolish enough to take the advice of strategists who wanted to wait until we knew the truth from the DNA testing.” His eyes softened. “I was a fool. I only have to look at you to know you’re my daughter. And you have your mother’s eyes.”

Those same eyes filled with tears again, and she reached for one of the tissues from a box that had miraculously appeared on a small coffee table in front of them. Suddenly she could see herself in the jut of his cheekbone and the funny way he wrinkled his nose. They’d been living their lives often only a few buildings apart here in D.C. but might have never met.

“I suppose we have to be grateful for the nosey journalists who uncovered the truth.” She said it to him, then turned to Barbara Carey. “Or we might have lived the rest of our lives without ever meeting.”

“We have a lot of lost time to make up for.” Ted Morrow leaned forward. “I’d like very much to get to know you.”

“I’d like that, too.” Her heart swelled until she thought it might burst. “I’ve been longing to meet you since I first learned you were my father. It’s not easy getting an appointment with the president.”

He shook his head. “I’ve been anxious to meet you, too. It’s usually a mistake to let other people tell you how to run your life, and it’s one I won’t make again. I have a strange feeling we’ll find we have a lot in common.”

She smiled. “I’ve wondered about that. And I’d like to learn more about your life in Montana.”

Something flickered across Ted Morrow’s face. Maybe he was thinking back to his high school days, where he’d become involved with Eleanor. She wondered how he felt about being deceived for all these years. Would he forgive Eleanor for keeping her secret?

“I had a wonderful childhood in Montana. And I was very much in love with your mother.” He spoke with force, eyes still shining with emotion. “It’s been a strange journey since then, for sure. Who knows how different it would have been if she’d told me she was pregnant with you?”

“You might not be sitting here as president of the United States,” suggested Barbara. “Your life might have taken a different course.”

“I might have accepted the assistant manager position I was offered at Willey’s Tool and Die.” He chuckled. “They paid time and a half for weekends.”

“But you had bigger dreams.” Barbara tilted her head. “You’d just accepted a scholarship to attend Cornell University.”

“I wanted to get out of my small pond and see if I could swim in a larger one.” Then his eyes fixed on hers again. “I never intended to abandon Ellie.”

Barbara Carey leaned toward him. “Ellie is Eleanor Albert, your high school sweetheart?”

“Yes. I wrote her letters and we’d made plans to spend the summer together.” He frowned. “Then one day she stopped responding to my letters. She didn’t answer the phone. Her mother hung up on me.” He shook his head. “I guessed that she’d met someone else. I had no idea she’d been bundled out of town to hide a pregnancy.”

“And you never saw her again.” Barbara’s famous voice added drama to the pronouncement.

He looked right at her. “Never. I’ve certainly thought about her over the years. Wondered where she was and hoped she was happy.”

“But you never married anyone else.”

“I guess I just never met anyone I loved as much as Ellie.”

His usually granite-hard features were softened with emotion. Ariella’s heart ached at the thought that Eleanor—Ellie—was out there and deathly afraid of him. Thinking he’d be angry and would hate her for her choice to keep her secret. She vowed that once she got to know him she’d convince Eleanor to meet him in person.

“Well, we have a surprise for you, President Morrow.”

He lifted a brow. “I’m not sure how many more surprises I can take. It’s been quite a year for them.”

Barbara stood and peered off into the darkness beyond the studio lights, and both Ariella and her father instinctively stood as well. “It wasn’t easy to convince her, but I’m happy to tell you that Eleanor is here with us tonight.”

Ariella gasped. She tried to make out her mother’s face but it was too hard to see. She glanced at Ted Morrow, but he simply looked shocked. At last she made out Liam Crowe, the head of ANS, walking toward them with Eleanor on his arm. Her hair was carefully coiffed, and she wore a simple burgundy dress, and looked young and pretty, and very, very nervous.

Her eyes were riveted on Ted Morrow like she’d seen a ghost.

“Ellie.” The president breathed her name like a prayer. “It’s really you.”

Blinking, she walked into the glare of the lights. “Hello, Ted.” Her voice was tiny, barely audible. He enveloped her in the same bear hug he’d greeted Ariella with, but there was something…tentative about the way he held her.

Stage hands quietly appeared with a chair for her to sit on, next to Ariella, who she greeted nervously.

Barbara leaned toward Ted. “I have to tell you that Eleanor approached us. She had heard of the special from Ariella, and she decided it was time to face you and tell her side of the story.”

Ted stared at Eleanor in a daze as if he couldn’t believe she was really here.

“Ariella and I met in London.” She spoke quietly. “Meeting her meant so much to me. I don’t suppose I realized how much I gave up until I saw her beautiful face and talked with her. After that I knew I had to face you again, too, Ted.”

“I never knew what happened to you. I pestered your mother for years but she never told me. She said you’d gone to live abroad.”

“It was true. I met my husband, married him and moved to Ireland all within a year of giving birth to Ariella. It seemed easier for everyone if I just disappeared.”

“It wasn’t easier for me,” Ted protested. “Why didn’t you tell me? You know I’d have married you.”

She looked at him in silence, her lip trembling. “I knew that’s what you’d do. That you’d give up your dreams to do the right thing. I couldn’t let you do that.”

“Ellie.” Tears filled his eyes. “Maybe there were other things that were more important to me than building a big career.”

“I’m so sorry.” Eleanor’s voice was higher. She was beginning to look as if she regretted coming. Ariella grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “Looking back I can see I made a terrible mistake. I was in a panic. My family said that the scandal of an unwed pregnancy would ruin your prospects. It was a different time. I was young and stupid and alone. I didn’t know what to do and I followed bad advice.”

“The important thing is that we’re all here today.” Ted Morrow’s voice sounded presidential for the first time since he’d come on set. “We’ve all done things we’d do differently if we had the chance to do them over again. Instead of looking back and saying ‘if only,’ I suggest that we embrace the present.”

“Well said,” chimed in Barbara. “And we here at ANS are thrilled to be a part of bringing you all together again.”

* * *

After the taping, they filed into the green room. Ariella felt shell-shocked. They’d all watched an edited montage of childhood photographs and background interviews and answered a few more questions. She was relieved it was over but also anxious to make sure she didn’t miss the opportunity to get to know her father and mother better.

Ted and Eleanor stood together, awkwardly silent, staring at each other. She wondered if she should say something to break the ice, but then she wondered if it wasn’t ice but something far warmer and maybe she should stay out of the way.

“You haven’t changed at all.” The president’s usually commanding voice sounded gruff with emotion.

“You, either. Though the gray at your temples makes you look more distinguished.” Eleanor’s eyes sparkled. “I wasn’t at all surprised to learn that you were running for president. I even obtained an absentee ballot for the first time so I could vote for you.”

Ted laughed. “It was a close race. I’m glad of the help.” He looked like he wanted to say so much more. He took her hands. “I know you did what you thought was best.” He spoke softly, as if they were all alone, though Ariella stood only a few feet away and production staff moved in the background.

“It doesn’t seem that way now, but you know what they say about hindsight.”

“I never loved anyone else.” Ted’s soft words shocked Ariella. She felt embarrassed to be eavesdropping, and wanted to disappear. But she knew how hard it was to engineer this meeting in the first place and who knew when she’d get another chance to spend time with her father. “I probably shouldn’t tell you that. I know you were married.”

“Greg was a good man.” Ellie didn’t seem so nervous and skittish anymore. Being in Ted’s presence seemed to calm her. “He was always so kind to me and we shared a good life together, even though we were never blessed with children.”

“I’m sorry to hear that he died.”

“Yes, it was very sudden and unexpected.” Their gazes were still locked on each other and they held hands as if afraid circumstances might suddenly tug them apart again.

It made her think of Simon. Circumstances certainly conspired to keep them apart. In fact it was odd that they’d ever met and managed to forge a few moments of intimacy. Some things just weren’t meant to be. She was almost at peace about it. It had been a fun fling, a wonderful whirlwind romance, and now she needed to get back to her regular life—whatever regular was these days—and try to forget about him.

“Do you think we could…have dinner together?” Ted Morrow asked with a touchingly hopeful expression.

“I’d like that very much.” Eleanor glowed. She looked so young and lovely standing there with Ted. Ariella would barely have recognized her as the white-lipped, anxious woman who’d met her in their secret London hiding place. “We have a lot to catch up on.”

They both seemed to suddenly remember her. “You will join us, won’t you?” Ted reached out and took Ariella’s hand, so that they were all linked. “It would mean so much to me to finally get to know you after all these years.”

“I’d be thrilled.”

* * *

The dinner was very emotional. Their happiness at meeting was thickened with sadness at all the things they’d missed sharing together. Ariella arrived home feeling literally sick with exhaustion, emotional and physical. She’d had her phone turned off since before the taping, and when she finally turned it on she saw that Simon had left a message.

“Great news. I’ve managed to engineer a series of meetings in D.C. next week. I’d like to put in my application now to take you out for dinner on Tuesday. Call me.”

Her heart constricted, partly with the familiar thrill of hearing his voice, and partly with the ugly knowledge that she needed to start weaning herself off him, not getting excited about dinners. Feeling dizzy, she lay down on her sofa, clutching the phone to her chest. She listened to another message from her partner, Scarlet, asking her to call and fill her in on the details. She decided that could wait until tomorrow because Scarlet had probably watched the taping like everyone else.

Her phone rang and she didn’t have the energy to come up with a strategy, so she answered it. “Were you ever going to call me, or what?”

“Hi, Scarlet.” Her voice sounded far away, like it belonged to someone else. “I’m wiped out.”

“I bet you are. That was quite a live reunion. I do believe your parents are still madly in love with each other.”

“Was that obvious on television, too? I felt like a third wheel.”

“You don’t sound good. Are you okay?”

“I’m feeling a little queasy. I’m probably dehydrated or something.” They’d been out for a big fancy dinner but she’d found herself barely able to eat. “And I need a good night’s sleep.”

“All right then. Don’t forget we have the Morelli meeting in the morning.”

Ariella groaned. She’d totally forgotten they were meeting with the extended Morelli clan to plan a huge fiftieth wedding anniversary. “Ten o’clock, right.”

“Call me if you’re not up for it, okay? I can handle it.”

“I’ll be fine.”

But she wasn’t.

When her alarm went off at eight her comforter felt like a lead blanket. Her eyes didn’t want to open. “Coffee. I need coffee,” she tried to convince herself. But the moment she managed to get her feet on the floor, a wave of nausea hit her.

Her phone rang on the dresser on the far side of the room, and she leaped to her feet to go answer it. Or at least she tried, but her ankles didn’t seem capable of holding weight so she found herself flopping back onto the bed, her breath coming in unsteady gasps.

After about five minutes of deep breathing she got the nausea under control, and managed to walk like a zombie to her phone. Scarlet had called again, so she dialed back without even listening to her message. “You know what you said about doing the meeting without me?”

“Not a problem. You sound terrible.”

Her voice did sound rather raspy. “I must have come down with something. I’d better lie in bed for a bit.”

“You stay right there and I’ll keep you posted on everything that happens.”

Ariella stayed in bed all morning. Every time she tried to do something useful the room started spinning or her stomach began to heave. She hadn’t been sick in so long she’d forgotten how miserable it was. It was probably from all the stress and anxiety leading up to the TV special. She probably needed a day or two in bed to recover.

Not that she had time for that. She had phone calls to make, menus and décor to approve and clients to meet. But maybe she could lie down for a few minutes first.

Ariella awoke with a start to the sound of the doorbell. A quick glance at the clock revealed she’d been asleep for four hours. She staggered to the door and opened it.

Scarlet stood on the threshold with a concerned look in her face. “I brought some chicken soup.” She thrust forward a container from the expensive bistro around the corner. “It has antibacterial properties.”

“What if it’s a virus?” Ariella couldn’t resist teasing her.

“Ah, so you’re not as sick as I thought. Let’s put it in bowls anyway. I need to grab some lunch before I meet with the manager of that new venue near the river.”

“I feel a lot better now. I think I’ve just been burning the candle too fast lately.”

“And Prince Simon has been helping you do it.” Scarlet lifted a brow. “But you had a few days to recover from your British romp before the taping.”

“Not enough, I guess.” She led Scarlet into the kitchen and pulled out two bowls and two spoons. “I usually fight everything off but maybe it’s catching up with me. At least I made it through the televised reunion.”

“What’s he like?” Scarlet poured the soup into both bowls. “The president, I mean.”

Ariella paused. “I liked him.” She looked right at Scarlet. “I mean, I liked him before, enough to vote for him—which is lucky, I guess—but he’s very genuine and unpretentious in real life. You could tell he found the whole situation rather overwhelming, and that really touched me.”

“I saw you guys both weeping.”

“And I’d sworn I wouldn’t do that.” She grabbed a paper towel and wiped up some spilled drops of soup. “I can usually put a lid on any emotion.”

“I know. I’ve seen you in action with the nuttiest clients and guests.”

“But the whole thing blew me away. He’s my father. We have the same genes. We probably have some of the same likes and dislikes, and he has the same funnily shaped earlobes as I do.”

Scarlet peered at her earlobes. “Cool.”

“It’s frightening to think that I might never have met him. Simon was so right that this is a big life-changing opportunity for me.”

“I hear ya. We can plan some White House parties now.” Scarlet winked.

“You know what I mean. I have a new set of parents. They’ll never replace my parents who raised me, of course, but we’ll have new experiences together. We’ve already made plans to go up to his house in Maine for a few days in the fall.”

“Without consulting me?” Scarlet put her hands on her hips in mock indignation. “Just because your daddy’s the president and you’re dating a prince doesn’t mean we’re not still partners.”

They both laughed. Ariella shook her head. “What next?” A wave of nausea rolled through her. “I need to sit down.”

Scarlet followed her into the living room, brow furrowed with concern. “Have some soup.” She held out the bowl. “Have you eaten anything at all today?”

Ariella shook her head. Her throat slammed shut at the sight of the soup. “I have no appetite.”

“Maybe you’re pregnant.” Scarlet smiled. She was kidding.

“Sure, if Simon and I had sex.”

“You have though, haven’t you?” She leaned in. “Even though you won’t share the juicy details.”

“Barely a week ago. I couldn’t possibly be pregnant.”

“It only takes one time. And my mom said she started feeling symptoms right away. She took a test and it was positive less than two weeks later.”

“We used condoms.” Ariella’s nausea was getting worse. Scarlet was kidding, wasn’t she?

“Don’t they have a five percent failure rate?”

“What?” Her grip tightened on her unused spoon.

“That’s why most people use something else as well. Still, you’re probably not pregnant. You’ve had a lot on your plate.” Scarlet leaned back into the armchair and spooned some soup into her mouth. “Don’t worry about it.”

Ariella stared at the bowl of soup Scarlet had placed on the coffee table. There was no way she could eat that. There was also no way she could be pregnant.

No. Way. It simply wasn’t possible.

Was it?