to make their point.
He’d be drawing on what little patience he had left just to get through the meeting with his father and the new campaign consultants. He had none to spare for his brothers—either of them. “It’s not half as interesting as the talking heads make it out to be.”
“But it’s still funny. Oh, and Lily wants me to remind you that at least she never made the handcuffed ‘walk of shame’ on the national news.”
Ethan’s fiancée had an extensive juvenile record that, for the most part, they’d managed to keep from becoming blog fodder. Not that Ethan cared one way or the other—not who knew about Lily’s past nor what trouble it might cause politically to have a former delinquent in the family. Lily was nice enough, and he was glad his brother was happy, but she’d caused more than one headache for him already. “Is there an actual purpose for your call, Ethan?”
“Not really.” Brady could almost hear Ethan’s shrug. “Just wanted to annoy you.”
“You succeeded.”
“So, out of curiosity, did you listen to her?”
“Sort of. I told her I’d try to get her a meeting with one of the staffers. She seemed happy enough with that until all this broke loose.”
“She’s tapped into something in the people’s psyche. You’re practically getting wall-to-wall coverage.”
Like he didn’t know that already. “People are frustrated with the system. What’s new about that? On an otherwise slow news day, a pretty girl riding Internet-fueled fame makes the headlines. This will pass.” Hopefully very soon.
“So you think she’s pretty?”
Sometimes Ethan could display stunning acts of immaturity strictly to try to get a rise out of him. Today was not a good day to take the bait. “Does it matter?”
“I wouldn’t have thought you’d go for the whole antiestablishment, counterculture type. She falls outside your norm—and you never fall outside your norm.”
The headache behind his eyes throbbed. “Must you be a complete idiot all the time?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Because you’re being an idiot.” The limo pulled to a stop at his father’s town house. “And I now have to go do damage control on this. Campaign staff should not be getting more air time than the candidate.”
“Uh-oh, sounds like the senator’s a little upset about this.” Ethan didn’t bother to cloak his bitterness. “Good.”
“Maybe for you, but not for me. I’d rather not be wasting time spinning ridiculous press. I’m the one who has to get him reelected.”
“It was your choice to work for him.”
“Yes. Because I can see beyond my own petty interests and childhood issues best worked out with a therapist.”
Ethan muttered something under his breath, but Brady wasn’t interested and hung up after a terse “goodbye.” Ethan couldn’t get past his own problems with their father to see the bigger picture. Douglas Marshall might be a lousy excuse for a father, but he was a damn good senator. Granddad’s legacy, oddly enough, was in good hands.
And that’s what was important, even though Ethan couldn’t see it. The mission that drove his family was coded into his DNA. Granddad had been a lion in the Senate, a forceful voice and advocate. Their father was carrying on that tradition, and as long as that was the case, Brady would fight to keep him in that seat.
Which meant he needed to turn the attention away from Aspyn Breedlove and back to the issues that really meant something.
He climbed the steps two at a time and let himself in. To his right, the door to his father’s study stood open, and he could hear voices inside. As he entered, he was surprised to see his father, Nathan and the new consultants already seated around the shiny conference table. And from the used coffee cups, open laptops and untidy stacks of paper, they’d been there for a while.
“Am I late?”
Jane, one of the consultants he’d brought on board only last week, had the good grace to look slightly abashed. Nathan just shrugged. His father, though, looked irritated, as always.
“Your little hippie friend has created quite the stir—”
“It will pass.”
“Possibly, but I’m sick of seeing her face—and yours—every time I turn on the news.” As if to prove his point, his father grabbed the remote and turned the sound up on the television. There, on one side of a split screen, was the video of Aspyn trotting beside him as they left the building and then being handcuffed to him. On the other side was a shot of an online bulletin board railing against the deafness of Congress and organizing itself into a full-fledged protest. The perky anchorwoman delivering the commentary called it a “grassroots uprising” and mentioned the Marshalls at least five times like it was somehow their fault.
The image then switched to Aspyn giving a makeshift press conference inside of what looked like a small bookstore. “I think the reaction we’re seeing just proves I’m not the only one frustrated with the disconnect our lawmakers have from the people they’re supposed to represent. Everyone deserves to be heard.” It wasn’t the first time he’d seen the clip, and, once again, he was impressed with how natural and articulate Aspyn was on camera. She might be a little out there, but she was smart and well-spoken and could hold her own with the press.
His father muted the sound again. “Because Miss Breedlove decided to handcuff herself to you, my office is now the center of this storm. Suddenly I’m the poster child for all that is wrong in Washington.”
Jane looked up from her computer as Brady joined them at the table. “And Mack Taylor is already keying in on it,” she added. “It’s about to become a campaign issue, and with the Marshall name prominently connected to the uprising, it doesn’t reflect very well on the senator.”
If I’d just let the elevator doors close in her face … Good manners didn’t always pay off, it seemed. But, then this was also what made campaigns exciting and challenging. This, too, just needed the right spin, and his brain was churning with the challenge already.
“Don’t get comfortable, Brady.” His father interrupted the thought. “You’re going on a little field trip.”
His brain screeched to a stop. That didn’t bode well. “Where and why?”
“I need to make Miss Breedlove my friend before Mack Taylor can make her my enemy and use her against me.”
“That’s always a good plan. In fact—”
“I’m glad you agree. You’re going to hire her.”
He couldn’t have heard that correctly. “Excuse me?”
“You are going to hire Miss Breedlove and make her a part of our campaign staff.”
That was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. “Doing what, exactly? Protesting?”
