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I smile.
“Well, there’s actually art all around us,” I say light. “You just have to open your eyes to its beauty and complexities.”
Brad’s eyes darken.
“You’re absolutely right, honey. Your insight is absolutely priceless.”
My cheeks go warm at the praise, and hastily, I turn the tables.
“But what about you, Mr. Landon?” I ask playfully. “Was your goal always to work in politics, or was it something that grabbed you later on?”
He grins.
“Well, I’m actually a little like you,” he says. “I never planned to work in politics, at least not in this capacity. I got a master’s in public policy because I wanted to join the Foreign Service after graduation. I was hoping to be shipped off to Tanzania, South Sudan, or Kenya; really, anywhere my skills were needed.”
I quirk my head to the side, eyes curious.
“What changed your mind?”
He grins.
“Meeting your dad, actually. Joseph and I met at a campaign event right after I got my degree. Back then he was a city council member, and I went to one of the meetings because one of my friends was really into land-use law. So I was a tag-along more than anything. But I ended up speaking with the Senator one-on-one, and Joseph was magnetic. We stayed in touch, and a week later, I ended up interviewing for a position on his staff. As you know, the rest is history.”
I nod.
“My father speaks very highly of you too. He always has,” I clarify. “In fact, Joseph’s been calling you his right hand man for as long as I can remember.”
“Yeah,” Brad smiles. “I can see why because a lot of my coworkers had families that kept them at home, but I was always available to handle emergencies any time of the day or night.”
I shoot him a look.
“Kind of like what you did with me?”
Brad laughs, his handsome face expressive.
“Kind of. But it’s fine. I don’t mind because the Senator’s a good man, and he’s taught me a lot, such as how to negotiate between different stakeholders, how to create and maintain positive PR, and how to survive the snake pit we call Albany.”
I nod. “Yes, and it’s stressful too. Joseph gets worked up sometimes, but I think he feeds off the energy, to be honest. My dad is a people-person, and he loves it. He’s a natural-born politician.”
Brad nods. “He’s very committed to his constituents.”
“Yes, definitely!” I exclaim. “My father’s worked like a dog ever since I was a little girl, and even more after he and my mom got divorced. I think Justine resented him a bit for his devotion to work, but their separation was complicated. It wasn’t just that he was in politics. It was also that my mom didn’t like the lifestyle, and preferred to stay home instead of being dragged off to a local hot dog eating contest or Kiwanis convention.”
Brad stops eating for a moment and throws me an intent look.
“Do you talk to your mom much?”
Frowning, I shake my head. “No, not really. Honestly, I really can’t remember the last time I spoke with Justine. She kind of disappeared after the divorce, and I don’t really know why. I guess my dad and I are just too annoying.”
Brad takes my hand in his, those blue eyes intent.
“You’re not annoying honey. You’re perfect.”
My heart grows and swells and to my horror, tears prick my eyes.
“Yeah, but it was difficult when my mom first left. I was only ten, so I was old enough to understand that she was gone, but not old enough to understand the why.”
Brad merely shakes his head, squeezing my hand again.
“It doesn’t matter,” he says in a rough voice. “Joseph did a wonderful job with you, and you’re a dynamic, compassionate, and beautiful young woman. Any parent would be lucky to have you.”
I sniff a little, but then dry my eyes.
“It’s okay. Honestly, the divorce was a good thing because my dad likes to ride his campaign bus all over New York while my mom isn’t even registered to vote. That’s how different they are. Last I heard, in fact, Justine was dating some eighty year old guy who has a ton of money, so I guess it worked out.”
Brad nods seriously.
“Everyone leads their own life, and Justine had to follow her own path. But again, she has you, and you are an incredible woman, sweetheart. You’d make your mother proud.”
I sniffle again.
“Thanks,” I say in a soft voice, staring at the remnants of my steak. “I guess sometimes it just doesn’t feel like it.” But then, I look up at him and smile blearily. “How about you? Have you considered leaving my dad and running for some form of office yourself?”
He looks surprised but then laughs.
“No,” he chuckles. “I’m a behind the scenes guy. No way could I press the flesh and kiss babies non-stop the way Joseph does. Not to mention his appetite! Your father ate an apple tart, a slice of fried apple pie, some cotton candy, and then a Philly cheesesteak all within an hour of one another when we were at the Oneida County Faire. It was impressive.”
